The Average DC Experience (COMPLETED)

Chapter 4: Baptism By Fire #4



"Whoops, excuse me..."

Gray disarmingly smiled, having "accidentally" bumped into a middle-aged man wearing a fancy blue suit and a brand wristwatch that matched his expensive getup.

"Are you alright?" he said, reaching to hold the middle-aged man's shoulder and wrist to stop him from falling with an apologetic expression.

The middle-aged man's eyes widened at the impact, only sighing in relief when Gray caught him before he could fall. He turned to Gray and immediately noticed his shabby outfit and the black baseball cap covering half of his, prompting him to scowl.

The middle-aged man's hands went to his pocket to check on his wallet, his expression only relaxing once he was sure it was still there.

"Watch it, punk! Do you know how expensive this suit is?!"

The middle-aged man scolded, sending Gray an annoyed glare, to which the latter merely smiled, raising his hands in surrender.

"Sorry about that. But you should keep an eye out, Mr," Gray remarked as he reached to adjust the middle-aged man's disheveled suit. "This place is crawling with pickpockets, you know?" he added and started walking without waiting for a reply, accidentally pumping into the middle-aged man's side as he moved forward.

The middle-aged man shook his head with a disgusted face and resumed his stride, putting the entire affair out of his mind, unaware of the wicked smile on Gray's face as the latter walked into the closest ally.

...

"Hm? Is that suit just for show?! What a fucking loser," I muttered in annoyance as I took the fifty-dollar bill from the middle-aged man's wallet and threw it aside.

"The watch is the real deal, at least..." I muttered, smiling as I turned to my inventory to inspect the middle-aged man's wristwatch.

...

[Bulova Surveyor Stainless Steel Ref. 96C125]

Brand: Bulova

Case Material: Stainless Steel

Case Diameter: 39mm

Crystal: Domed Mineral Crystal

Dial Feature: Luminous Hands

Water Resistance: 30M

Movement: Quartz

...

'I can get at least $100 if I take this to a fence.'

I smiled in satisfaction as I retrieved the watch from my inventory to take a better look. The original price for this watch should have been somewhere between $200-$250, but I could only sell it to a fence, so the drop in value is expected.

'System, show me my character screen.'

...

Name: Grayson Whitlock

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 17

Class: Thief (level 3)

....

Stats:

Body: 11

Mind: 11

Spirit: Locked

Stat Points: 9

.....

Skills:

[Crime (level 6)]

....

Perks:

[Dormant Metahuman]

...

Inventory: [Quarter Dollar Coin]

...

Quests: [Get Rich Or Die Trying (literally)]

Get Rich Or Die Trying (literally):

Money makes the world go round. You want it; you need it. Go for it.

Objective: Gather $1000 through any means.

Rewards: [random equipment] [+5 levels to the crime skill]

Progress: $913/$1000

...

'Nice.

I did the mental equivalents of a fist pump as I inspected the progress, unmindful of the system's peculiar wording. I've already grown used to the biting tone of the system, taking comfort in it instead.

As much as I wanted to say that I had a handle, that I was keeping a level head, and that I didn't feel any fear or uneasiness, I wasn't that thick-skinned.

It gnawed on my mind, hounding my every waking thought that I'd pump into Batman's rogue gallery. It was a real possibility that the Joker could decide to flood the apartment complex in Joker Venom while I slept or that a giant vine would suddenly emerge from the ground and crush me to death at any time, anywhere.

Even Batman himself was a constant source of worry for me. Hero or not, the man was batshit crazy (no pun intended), and he was likely to break my arms or throw me into Black Gate Penitentiary if he caught me stealing, for all I knew. But I digress.

The system's biting remarks and occasional reference or joke from my past life distracted me from my unease. It helped me stay focused and allowed me to cling to my sanity in this oh so insane world.

And now I only need to sell this watch and collect my pay to finish the quest and leave that hellhole excuse of an apartment and rent a place in a safer spot. And even though I could afford a month or two of rent with what I have right now, any money I spend will be deducted from the quest's progress. I know because I tried.

I've been doing this song and dance for a week now, roaming Gotham City's downtown area, carefully picking the softest and fattest targets I could find to pickpocket.

But even with my caution, my first attempt at pickpocketing had almost ended in a disaster. I had forgotten one essential detail. Even the most average Gotham city resident had likely a thief or three in their lifetimes, and their instinct upon pumping into someone is to check their pockets.

Luckily, and I'm ashamed to admit it, my first target was an elderly gentleman, and so I managed to run away in time when he realized his wallet was missing.

I was smart enough to learn from experience, so I started pumping into people without stealing anything to lower their guard and only emptying their pockets after.

Besides pickpocketing people, I've also been rigorously training myself by attempting Saitama's infamous training regime; 100 pushups, 100 situps, 100 air squats, and a 10-km run every day. And I emphasize the word "attempting" because that shit is just impossible for me right now.

I can barely do half of that before I'm on my knee panting for breath, so I started waking up early at 4 AM for a 5-km run in Gotham City's Park, resting for an hour, then going for 50 pushups, and repeating the cycle until it gets dark.

I wasn't idle during my resting time either. I'd head into the library and read about this world's history to stimulate my brain and study this world's history, something the old Gray didn't have the leisure to do.

My exercise and study had shown results relatively quickly, no doubt thanks to the system, despite the meager one-point increase in my mind and body attribute. But even then, it was too fast and parent of a development for a regular human.

"Whelp, time to take this to Old Jack and get rid of it..."

I muttered with a faint smile, a spring in my step as I headed towards Old Jack's pawn shop. He was a well-known fence in the area, and I've been selling my ill-gotten gains to him for the past week since he had the tact not to ask any questions, and didn't try to rip me off too much.

But my cheerful attitude didn't last long as a mad cackle reverberated from above.

I paled as I turned to the source and saw a man in a black full-body protective suit barreling in the air flying with a jetpack strapped to his back.

"Shine in glorious orange! Burn for me! BURN!"

The man, dementedly exclaimed as he spun in the air, dragging along a wave of searing flame that devoured everything in its path, which he unleashed with a flame thrower attached to his jetpack.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

He cackled like a madman as he randomly began throwing bombs with reckless abandon. His laugh grew louder and more demented at the panicked screams and pleas of the pedestrians in the street and the residents of the buildings he torched.

"The bastard is getting off of it..."

I muttered as I stood rooted in place while watching the hell The Firefly brought upon the unsuspecting civilians, my teeth chattering as I tried and failed to process the reality before me.

I knew it would happen. I knew I would encounter something like this sooner rather than later, yet I couldn't process it. It was one thing to see a psychopath setting fire to people while laughing in glee in a comic or a movie. But to see it with my own eyes was entirely different.

I watched in a daze as people caught fire and started rolling on the ground, running around like headless chickens, and only came to my senses when someone tackled me down.

"H-help me... P-pleas.."

He spoke, and I immediately felt my lunch shooting up my throat as I looked at the man's disfigured head. His burnt face looked melted. It was full of blisters and hideous burn scars, most of his hair gone, leaving only loose patches of hair on a disfigured bald head.

"GET OFF ME!" I exclaimed, getting back to my sense as I forced myself to push down my lunch, and shoved the man to stand up.

"I- I'm sorry."

I muttered with a grimace as I looked at the man who reached towards me with a shaking hand and started moving, turning away from the man's hideous imploring face that will no doubt haunt my dreams. I started sprinting, intent on running as far away as I could from this hellish scene.

I willfully turned away from the burning people, covering my ears in a lame attempt to filter out the screams, which miserably failed as I ran towards Gotham City's Park.


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