Chapter 10: Solo Hunt Build-Up
The Evergreen alleys were a labyrinth of decay, their damp concrete walls slick with rain and grime, the air heavy with the sour tang of mildew and forgotten garbage. Jax Reed crouched behind a defunct laundromat, its faded mural of a cartoon butterfly—eerily reminiscent of the Butterfly Remnant's sigil—peeling under the weak, gray morning light. His tactical jacket clung to his shoulders, damp from the drizzle, and he twirled his steel tactical knife, its blade a silver blur that steadied his racing pulse. The Gotham dossier, tucked in his pocket, crinkled with every move, its rift graffiti and smuggling routes a puzzle that gnawed at him. The solitude was a weight, but it was necessary—he needed to prove he could hunt alone, without the Peacemaker team's chatter or the system's summons pulling him along.
"Sarcasm levels rising, but this alley's a mood killer," he muttered, his hazel eyes scanning the shadows. "Blood's red paint, and I'm painting solo today."
He pulled out a small, leather-bound sketchbook, a relic from his pre-transmigration life, its pages worn but comforting. Flipping it open, he began sketching the stolen Butterfly tech's schematic—a jagged blueprint of circuits and Vought's cryptic symbols—alongside a rough map of Evergreen's underbelly. In the corner, he doodled a glowering Batman, the cowl exaggerated into a cartoonish scowl, a flicker of homesickness surfacing as his pencil scratched. "Miss the old world's boring problems. Taxes. Traffic. Not interdimensional parasites," he thought, the ache in his chest sharp but fleeting.
The system pinged, its cold voice cutting through the quiet.
[SYSTEM: QUEST ALERT.]
[SCOUT EVERGREEN FOR BUTTERFLY REMNANT SIGNS.]
[CUMULATE SUMMONS: 2.]
[OBJECTIVE: GATHER INTEL FOR SOLO HUNT.]
Jax's gaze caught a three-fingered scratch mark on a dumpster, its edges faintly shimmering with Vought's residual tech—a remnant sign. Nearby, a glint of fused asphalt revealed a low-grade component, its surface pulsing with a sickly green glow. "These freaks are everywhere," he thought, his knife twirling faster as he logged the findings in his sketchbook.
[SYSTEM: CUMULATE INCREASED TO 3.]
[DAILY LIMIT FOR RANDOM SUMMON HOLDING.]
The solitude sharpened his focus, his Willpower 2 humming like a taut wire, amplifying his senses. The drizzle pattered on his jacket, and he wiped his face, grimacing at the gritty dampness. He pulled a crumpled taco from his pocket, its wrapper stained with grease, and took a bite, the cheap beef and stale corn shell grounding him in the mundane. The taco binge was his ritual, a small rebellion against the system's chaos.
"Entry-level villainy's got nothing on this culinary masterpiece," he said, smirking as he tossed the wrapper into the dumpster. The act felt defiant, a reclaiming of control in a world that kept slipping away.
A prickle of unease hit—the sensation of eyes on his back, a shadow moving too slowly to be a stray cat or drunk. The tailing figure was closer than he liked, but not close enough to act. "Not worth their time yet. Let's change that," he thought, his smirk fading as he stood, stretching his legs until his knees popped.
The Butterfly tech's trail led to a cluster of warehouses five blocks away, marked with an 'X' on the pickpocket's map from the dossier. Jax's pulse quickened, the system's max cumulate a ticking bomb in his mind. He needed petty fights to hone his edge before the big hunt.
Under an underpass, the air thick with urine and old smoke, Jax found his quarry: three pickpockets, barely out of their teens, harassing an elderly woman for her purse. One brandished a Butterfly-enhanced taser, its electric buzz cutting through the woman's panicked pleas. Jax moved like a shadow, his Willpower 2 sharpening his focus to a razor's edge.
The taser-wielder didn't see him coming. Jax's kick snapped the kid's wrist, sending the taser skittering across the pavement with a metallic clatter. The punk whined, a high-pitched yelp that made Jax chuckle.
"Membership revoked for entry-level villainy," he said, twirling his knife as the other two turned, cursing.
"What the f—!? Who are you, man?"
"Just the guy giving you a discount: keep your teeth, I keep the loot. Deal?" Jax's smirk was all confidence, his body loose but ready.
The third thug, his glove pulsing with Butterfly tech, lunged. Jax anticipated the move, his Willpower 2 slowing the world just enough to block the punch and slam an elbow into the kid's ribs, the crack echoing. The other two fell quickly—one to a knee strike, the other to a swift jab—leaving them whimpering on the concrete.
Jax looted their gear: two cheap Butterfly comms, a taser pack, and a wallet with a hand-drawn warehouse map, its 'X' matching the dossier's. The system chimed, its tone triumphant.
[SYSTEM: PETTY VILLAIN DEFEATS SUCCESSFUL.]
[+10 SP ADDED. CURRENT SP: 115.]
[CUMULATE HOLDS AT 3.]
The tailing figure vanished during the brawl, their absence a quiet insult. "Guess I'm not big game yet," Jax thought, pocketing the loot. The warehouse was next—a cavernous space of rust and shadows, perfect for practice.
Inside, the air was thick with old oil and dust, motes dancing in the gray light filtering through grimy windows. Jax propped three rag-stuffed shipping bags as dummies, attaching the stolen comms to simulate targets. He paced, his boots scuffing the concrete, and began his drill, shouting commands as if summoning.
"Okay, Maeve, pin the big one! Homelander, flank with heat vision! Bind: Crush recruiters!" His voice echoed, the absurdity of yelling at bags making him grin. "I'm a lunatic yelling at sacks, but it's progress," he thought, testing syntax and timing.
The system hummed, a distant buzz of power building in his veins, the echo buildup of past summons—Maeve's strength, Homelander's invulnerability, Cate's will—merging into a taut potential. Dust clung to his jacket, and he wiped his nose, muttering,
"Seriously, how does a place get this dusty? It's like fighting in a villain's dandruff collection."
[SYSTEM: CUMULATE AT 3. MAX CAPACITY REACHED.]
[SUMMON PROTOCOL READY: MULTI-SUMMON (2-3) POSSIBLE.]
The map's 'X' burned in his mind—the Butterfly Alpha's lair. Jax pocketed his knife, the weight of the coming hunt settling like a storm cloud. He spotted the Alpha lead, the warehouse a staging ground for a larger threat. "Time to stop playing small," he thought, his smirk returning as he headed out, ready for the main event.
[SYSTEM: RANDOM FLAVOR: TAILING SHADOW DETECTED.]
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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