126 Chance Encounter #126

At the end of the day, even if no one likes to admit it, superheroes are also humans. They can't be everywhere, and now it's up to us to save ourselves and change Gotham for the Better."

#Not_All_Heroes_Wear_Capes

'Imagine being the first to say that...' I smiled, letting out a chuckle as I read through the latest trending hashtag on social media; not all heroes wear capes.

It was just something I said at the top of my head without much thought. But I never expected to be the first to say it or that it would turn into this inspiring quote instead of being the meme you'd occasionally find on a YouTube video.

It tremendously helped me with public opinion and earned praise almost everywhere, so I wasn't complaining, merely expressing my surprise at a pleasant, unexpected turn of events.

Forget about the trial; even the investigation hadn't concluded yet, and things were already going so smoothly, which meant I could finally stop worrying about public opinion and focus on getting condemning evidence.

I imagine the trial will take months, maybe more than a year, and I intended to prolong it as much as possible because staying in the spotlight had multiple advantages, which I intended to milk dry.

It would keep those lurking in the shadows away since all eyes would be on me, and I'd get a chance to advertise my company once I was ready to take it to the public.

I planned on starting with software since that was what I excelled in at the moment, slowly branch out to machinery, and ultimately end up with a robotics company while elevating Gotham from a sorry excuse of a city into a tolerable living space.

It will take effort, a shit ton of money, and bring me countless headaches, failures, and frustrations, but I'm hanging on to straws here; I needed to do this, to make a difference somehow. Otherwise, I'd feel useless.

This world was one big dumpster fire, and the way I saw it, I could passively watch as everyone burned, sprinkled fuel into the flames, or put the fuck out of it.

Sitting on my ass and doing nothing did not sit right with me because what was the point of having all this power I've worked so hard to get if I wasn't going to do something meaningful with it other than covering my ass?

Spreading chaos and helping the world to its flaming end was another automatic no. Selfish as I might be, a fucking psychopath I was not. There's a big difference, you know?

So yeah, I was only left with one option, which was the best for my sake and that of other people, and I'll see it through to the end, one way or the other, no matter how long it takes.

But enough of that, I still had work to do, and I was drawing closer to breaking into the Task Force X database with every passing hour, even if my pre-programmed software was doing most of the work.

It had already detected multiple weak points, to which I attached various sleeper malware already. Now I'm only waiting for my software to find every weakness to start my attack and cause as much chaos as possible while I swiped the data I needed with no one being the wiser.

I was confident in my hacking abilities, but it never hurt to be too careful, especially with how secure the database proved to be so far and how difficult it was to trace and scan it.

'Oh... and here comes another one...' I mused as I received a notification that my software had discovered a new vulnerability, and I immediately went to work, activating my personal computer power.

...

"And that's that..." I remarked to no one in particular, sighing as I got off my couch.

Unsurprisingly, Waller's people have already begun improving their previously impressive security measures, making it even more of a pain in the ass to work around.

It took considerably longer to inject my malware, and I also took the time to hide what I injected before a bit more deeply, just in case. I had a lot riding on this, and failure was not an option, so I was more than happy to invest the extra time.

'Looks like I've got some time to kill...' I mused, scratching my head as I found myself with nothing to keep myself busy and feeling bored.

'Might as well check on Mark and the guys in the warehouse...' I mused, my shoulders slumping at the idea of the explanations I'd have to give once I reached the warehouse.

...

Bell Reve

Amanda Waller's office

"Did you take out Deadshot and the others, Multiplex?" Amanda asked as she looked at the three identical men carrying files into and out of her office as they moved in perfect synch.

"Nope. Every copy I send to Blackgate and Arkham keeps getting killed by the inmates before I even see their faces," one of the men said as he turned Waller, shaking his head. "It's like the inmates are actively trying to protect them," he added with an annoyed sigh.

"You know this would have been a lot easier if Nightshade just opened a portal directly to their cells..." he added, giving the Task Force Director a hard stare from all three of his copies.

"Nightshade is... unavailable for now... we will find an alternative soon, but until then, you are to keep trying, convict," Waller said, not pulling any punches as she reminded the villain of his place with a firm glare of her own.

"Whatever you say, boss lady. But I'd keep a tight grip on that leash if I were you," Multiplex said with a smile full of meaning, like a shark smelling blood in the water.

"Noted. Now get out of my sight," Waller Blankly said, keeping her eyes on Multiplex as he wordlessly exited the office after conceitedly shrugging his shoulders and scoffing.

Waller sighed as the door closed with a loud bang, reaching into her drawer to retrieve a framed family picture of her entire family, including those that the streets took from her.

Her shoulders slumped as she caressed the picture with her thumb, sighing at the memories of her late husband and children flashing through her mind.

Waller put away the picture and firmed her shaken resolve as she took a deep breath. She did everything for the sake of her children, to create a world where she wouldn't have to be worried sick for their safety whenever they left her sight.

No price too great, no line too broad, and no life too precious. She'd pay any cost, cross every line, and shed rivers of blood as long she could give her remaining children the future they deserved.

...

East End

"Looks like he's doing just fine..." I muttered, smiling as I patted Little Soot's head, poking out of my jacket. "What do you think?" I asked, and the little feline meowed for no apparent reason, but I took it as agreement as any cat person would.

I didn't approach Mark because any contact with me from now on would complicate his life needlessly. I just dropped by to see how he was doing physically since I already knew what I needed to know from public records, and it was all good news.

His daughter was already recovering and would get back to school in one or two weeks, which seemed enough to bring back the same old smile to his face.

"How about we go to say hi to Patrick and his buddies now?" I said, tightening the zipper to prevent Little Soot from falling as I turned my bike's throttle and sped away.

...

Cassandra smiled as she approached the warehouse, opening her bag and double-checking its content, nodding to herself in satisfaction as the smell of street burgers drifted in the air.

Though the tournament was suddenly paused and postponed, denying her the prize money she planned to use in re-homing Patrick and her other benefactors in the warehouse, it didn't shake her resolve.

She'd already found a secluded, relatively safe spot to take them to in case the warehouse was sold, forcing Patrick and the others to evict the building, and it's only a matter of time before the tournament resumes.

However, she did regret not being able to meet a specific contestant, whom she felt very curious about, despite not having any interaction with him.

The first time she met him was on the first day of the tournament when she was stuffing her mouth with the free food, and even though he merely glanced at her briefly without saying a word, she still understood him clearly.

Though unable to speak, Cassandra could understand others, sometimes even more than they understood themselves. All it took was one look. Their body language would do the rest, telling her everything she needed to know about the person.

Cassandra was understandably surprised and curious when all she could glimpse from that person's body language was goodwill and deep sympathy as if he knew everything she's been through all her life.

Still, her surprise at the time was nothing compared to what she felt in the present as she watched the same person awkwardly staring at her with a small, black cat poking out of his jacket and slapping at his face rapidly.

...

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