Risk It All: Risky Bets (ch. 4) (Patreon)

With Gotham's crime rate being what it was, you'd think you wouldn't be able to walk down the street without being mugged a dozen times over. And that was just the stuff that got reported. The stuff that didn't?

Gotham always felt like a powderkeg that was just looking for an excuse to blow. It didn't need a spark. It barely needed a reason. It was just how the city was -- a barely functioning dumpster fire, that probably should have been sawed off the mainland and pushed into the ocean to become the second Atlantis. Worse, people always said that Gotham was a hundred times better now that Batman was cleaning up the streets. I can't even imagine how awful the city must have been before.

But, for all of Gotham's supposed crime, I was coming up empty on finding any.

I swallowed a sigh, shifting my face mask so it would sit more comfortably. It was a convenient mask to help hide my identity. A yellow hoodie and a pair of jeans covered the rest of me, the hood flipped up while my hands were in my hoodie pocket. It was hot. Uncomfortably so, but I needed to protect my identity. The problem was made worse the more I walked around -- my body wasn't exactly all there yet, and it seemed I got tired faster than I would like.

"Maybe I'm in the wrong part of the city?" I asked myself, looking up at the sky. Not a star in sight because of the light pollution. That was a shame. I've seen pictures of how many stars you could see in remote locations, but I've never seen them in person before. I sighed at the thought, unable to keep it at bay. Looking back down at the streets, I saw flashes of neon and Chinese words.

I had wanted to stay nearby to the new apartment, so I stayed in Chinatown in Gotham's Little Asia. It was just a block of the city that I had more or less circled around and darted into every dark alley with nothing to show for it. And after a measly hour, I was already feeling winded and my legs ached with effort.

"Maybe I should head back?" I asked myself, coming to a stop on the sidewalk. This was dangerous. I was going out looking for a mugging or something to stop. Physically. Were five Prestige points really worth it? There had to be a better, safer way to earn Prestige, right? Maybe I could become a Metuber, or I could write a book or something. Something that would let me sit in my room and not be in danger of getting shot in the head for a third time.

There were. That much I could recognize. But…

I knew myself. Tomorrow morning, I would wake up and I would check the news, curious about how many crimes had been reported. A morbid curiosity to know how close I had been to danger… and the moment I saw the reports, I was going to feel like shit because I turned around and went home. I would look at every mugging and assault and think to myself… I could have been there.

If there was a rape or a murder? If it happened nearby? Right when I decided to shrug my shoulders and go home?

I would hate myself.

Now wasn't the time to throw in the towel. If I was going to do this, then I was going to commit. If I wasn't finding anything nearby? Then I should go beyond a block from my home. I… should head to Koreatown -- I spoke a little of the language and I always heard that it was the rough part of Little Asia. Though, I'm pretty sure that was because all Asian cultures kinda hated each other.

Gathering my courage, I reached the end of the block, and instead of looping around it again, I walked across the street that brought me to the block known  as Koreatown. To the untrained eye, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but as a native, it was easy to see. The language on the signs changed, as did the language spoken by the people milling about.

I saw gang colors, but that didn't really feel like a valid reason to walk up and punch someone.

Koreatown had a different feel to it, but I'm guessing that was due to growing up in Chinatown. There was a small park located at the edge of the block, and the playground had been more or less taken over by vendors selling food and items. Most of them had packed it up for the night, but there were still a few out, knowing that there was an after-hours market to cater to.

As I neared, I pieced out the words of Korean that I knew, and idly wondered if I should try picking up the language, and something to eat, when I saw a small form dart between the stalls. I heard a shout chase after the figure, the food stall vendor going to leap over the stall, but by the time he started, the dine and dasher was halfway across the park. Small, thin legs, an oversized hoodie, and about four feet tall -- a bag clutched in their hands that had three wooden skewers poking out.

A kid.

I stepped out of the way, letting the kid pass me by without so much as a look. My gaze lingered on their back for a moment, watching them quickly cross the street and head into the more diverse part of Little Asia.

So… I was an hour in, and I already let a thief go.

"I'm so bad at this," I remarked, not feeling guilty for letting the kid go. The vendor looked thoroughly irritated, so I did feel a bit guilty for screwing him over. To make it right, I headed over to the stall, the guy giving me the stink eye the entire way. "Two Odeng and whatever she stole," I said, fetching out my wallet, and I could see the guy near-instantly shift into a much better mood. Luckily, I had brought some money with me. An old habit from my gambling days, to keep a hundred in my wallet at all times as a just-in-case fund.

I was passed two fishcake skewers in response, and after offering a polite bow, I turned away after tucking the change into my pocket. They were a bit overcooked, and the sauce had soaked the fishcake, but you couldn’t beat street food. Chewing thoughtfully, I started to… patrol, for a lack of a better word, searching for a crime to bust. Nothing really happened, but I did feel a bit better with some food in my stomach-

Before I could dig into the second skewer, I felt a hand grab me by the shoulder before I was suddenly thrown to the side. I nearly fell flat on my face, not expecting to get pushed so suddenly. I might have if I hadn't felt someone grab me by the back of my hoodie and slinging me into a wall inside an alley. The breath was knocked out of me, my mask falling from the ear I had it hooked on, and I just barely managed to hold onto my skewer.

"Empty your pockets," I heard in the distance as I looked at who had thrown me into the alley. He was a bit shorter than me, but much more solidly built -- Asain, short black hair, and a face mask similar to the one I wore. However, I barely noticed any of it when I saw the gun pointed at my chest. "Now!" He snapped, jerking the gun at me.

I was getting mugged. By a guy with a gun.

"I…" I couldn't look away from the gun. It was a different one than I had been shot with before -- Black Mask had shot me with some kind of revolver and the one pointed at my chest was some kind of Glock. I didn't know much about guns other than you tended to die when one was pointed at you. My heart started to pound in my chest, my head going completely blank.

I thought I could handle this. The idea was simple in theory -- use my ability to go out, beat a few people up to open the market, and take it from there. Going after Black Mask, dismantling his operations… I never took into account one simple fact. A fact that I hadn't been aware of until this very moment.

Guns scared the shit out of me. A pull of the trigger and I was dead. A tiny projectile launched at speeds I couldn't hope to follow with my eyes or dodge… all it needed to do was hit me in the right place, and that was it. I knew my luck was quantifiably shit. I had a stat to prove it, and I used up a lifetime of good karma surviving the two I already got to the head.

A lump formed in my throat that I failed to swallow. My heart felt like it was about to burst through my ribs if it pounded at them any harder.

"O-okay," I hated the stutter in the word. I hated the fear in it as my hands fumbled to my wallet to hand it over. I hated just how afraid I suddenly was the moment a gun was pointed at me. Above all else, I hated that I had been stupid enough to think I became the second coming of Batman just because I could throw a punch.

My hands felt numb as I handed over my wallet, my skewer falling to the ground. I managed to fish it out with some difficulty -- at the very least I didn't have any credit cards or my ID inside. It was the one safety precaution I made. The mugger snatched the wallet out of my hand before he opened it up, the gun moving away from me for a split second to pull out the bills I had inside. And… I let the moment go.

The mugger robbed me of all I was worth before he tossed the wallet back at me. I failed to catch it so it just impacted my chest before falling to the ground. The mugger tucked the gun in his pants line before he started jogging away, heading for the other end of the alley. I looked to him, watching his back as he fled from the scene of the crime.

Damn. I let a thief go and I got mugged on day one of trying to be a hero. Honestly, how pathetic could I be?

"I'm so lame," I muttered to myself. My heart stopped pounding at my ribs to settle in my chest like a stone. All my talk was just delusions of grandeur. I wasn't some badass that could stare down a criminal. I… wasn't Batman. I wasn't even close. I…

I was so damn helpless I wanted to scream.

My jaw clenched so hard that I thought my teeth would shatter from the pressure, while my knuckles went white as I curled them into fists. I was just as helpless as I was with Black Mask when he shot me. As I was now... if he decided to come after me again what did I have? How could I stop him? I was pissing myself over a mugger. I- I was completely at his mercy and I hated it.

My circumstances wouldn't change. Not unless I made them change.

I forcibly swallowed the lump in my throat as I pushed myself off the wall of the alley. Dipping down to snatch up my wallet, I stuffed it into my pocket as I watched the mugger walk towards the end of the alley. He knew I was so scared of a gun that he wasn't even bothering to run the rest of the way. He knew he didn't need to.

My feet moved before I could stop myself and think my way out of it. I had plenty of experience walking silently thanks to sneaking out plenty of times before in an apartment that seemed to be made out of squeaky floorboards. I moved forward, closing this distance between us as I eyed the center of the mugger’s back -- my mind completely blank except for a singular thought that drove me forward.

I couldn't afford to be helpless anymore. I couldn't afford to be pathetic. Too much was on the line.

The mugger nearly reached the end of the alley by the time I reached him, only a small gap between us. He looked over his shoulder, probably to check to see if I was still loitering around the other end. I saw his eyes widen a fraction as he started to turn around, one of his hands dipping to his gun. I darted forward, raising a fist as I closed the distance between us in a single step.

He brought his gun out, but before he could take aim at me, I lashed out with my fist. It slammed into his forearm with a loud bang and, for a split second, I distantly worried that he had taken the shot. That thought was quickly put to rest when I felt his forearm shift under my knuckles, the bones breaking. The mugger let out a pained cry as he dropped to the ground, cradling his broken arm.

I stood above him, hesitating with another fist raised uncertainly -- was that it?

"Fuck! You broke my arm!" He shouted, cradling the arm that was bent at an unnatural angle. The gun fell from his limp grip while tears of pain dripped down his cheeks. My stomach clenched at the sight and I lowered my fist, the image of his broken bones straining against his skin searing itself into my mind.

"I… you robbed me!" I shouted back at him before I heard some muttering. Looking up, I saw a few people standing at the alley entrance, watching the scene play out. It clicked instantly what this must look like, so I jabbed a finger at the mugger. "He robbed me," I explained.

"This psycho attacked me!" The guy shouted back and I had the urge to hit him again. My stomach clenched at the idea, my guts tying themselves into knots.

I shook my head before I kicked the gun away. "See? He had a gun. He mugged me! I just…" I trailed off when I saw someone take out their phone to call the cops. Shit… that… shit, I couldn't get picked up by the cops. I'm guessing they would have questions about why a teen that was in a coma for half a year until two weeks ago was getting into fights in dark alleys in the middle of the night. I didn't need that kind of attention. "Just… give me my money back," I snapped at the guy, digging through his pockets to get my money back.

God, it totally looks like I'm mugging this guy.

I pulled out a wad of bills, more than what I had on me. I wasn't this guy's first victim tonight. I peeled off the ones I knew were mine, stuffing them in my pocket before I held up the rest. "See? None of this is mine," I pointed out, presenting the wad of a few hundred dollars as evidence that I wasn't mugging the guy. After all, if I was, then I would just take it and run, right?

"Help! Someone call the cops! He's stealing my niece’s birthday money!" The mugger shouted from the ground, making me sputter.

I shook my head, looking to the handful of people watching the scene with growing expressions of concern. Fuck me.

"No, no! That's not true! Well, maybe it’s true, I don't know the guy -- but the money is stolen! I swear. He mugged me, so he's probably mugged other people. So, I'm just going to leave this here for the cops so they can return it to its proper owners," I informed, setting the wad of bills on a dumpster. A crumbled twenty fell off, so I had to put it back on the stack. Then I used a soda can to make sure it stayed there. After waiting for a second to make sure that it stayed, I nodded, satisfied before I turned to the crowd to see a handful of cameras aimed my way.

"...Bye," I finished before I turned around and started running away, all the while the mugger shouted for someone to stop me from getting away. No one seemed to take him up on it so I could only hope that meant that they believed me over him. I made my way down the alley and turned to head home, my face burning with humiliation the entire way.

A window popped up confirming my five Prestige points, but all of a sudden they didn't seem worth it. For so many reasons.

I tore off my hoodie as I neared my apartment building and I started heading up. I had worked up a bit of a sweat, and my face mask wasn't helping, so I took it off too as I headed to my floor, then the apartment that we had moved into. The hallways were fairly long, but each only had a few doors, so it was easy enough to find my way back. Sliding in the key, I opened the apartment to total darkness.

Closing the door behind me, I tiptoed into the apartment, heading to my room. I half expected the lights to suddenly switch on, but they didn't as I made my way inside -- my mom slept like a log. Once she was out, she wouldn't wake up.

I tossed my hoodie on the floor of my room before I threw myself into my bed. Closing my eyes, I tried to will my brain to shut off and just go to sleep, but the events played in my head like a loop. The adrenaline in my veins didn't help either.

Rolling onto my back, I raised one hand -- the hand that I used to break that guy's arm. It had been easy. Too easy. A single blow snapped his arm like a toothpick. The Soul-Crushing Blow had more than earned its name. And that… there hadn't been any satisfaction there. I didn't feel proud or anything like that. I just felt a deeply unsettling feeling come over me as I looked up at my hand.

It was so easy to hurt other people.

If I had tried to punch him in the face? Like the guy that killed Alice? If instead of punching him in the jaw, I aimed a bit higher? Or punched him in the nose?

How close did I come to killing a person then? How close did I come to killing a person now?

“I think I’m going to keep Thou Shall Not Kill,” I muttered to myself as I let my arm drop onto my face, covering my eyes to try to get to sleep.

People were too fragile for anything else.

…

At some point, I had managed to fall asleep. Not really sure when, but I only realized I had when I came to and found that my shirt was slowly strangling me, since I tended to toss and turn when I slept. Peeling my eyes open, I swallowed a groan as I reached out to my phone to check the time. Six in the morning, so I got about… sixish hours.

Pushing myself out of bed, I cracked my neck as swung my feet over, taking a moment to rub the sleep from them. The moment I opened them again, I came face to face with a screen.

Congratulations! You now have the Rank: Minor Character!

The Market is now available!

I blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time. Then my eyes narrowed into slits because that didn't make a lick of sense. Even with the five Prestige, I got for completing the quest, I should only have like seventy-something. I needed another twenty Prestige to rank up. How much did I have?

You have: 250 Prestige.

How? I didn't complete any quests, and I didn't get a bonus, did I? So how did I more than double my Prestige?

A pit formed in my gut as I reached out to my phone and opened up an app. For a moment, I hesitated to type anything before I decided to bite the bullet and enter Gotham and Crime. I didn't see anything -- the page was filled with videos of Batman's villains. However, when I switched to newest, I saw… I saw myself standing above a fallen man. The title? Mugging a mugger.

It had about ten thousand views. The comments… each and every single one of them made me want to die a little. They could best be summed up as 'Lol, what a loser.'

"At least I got Prestige for it," I said, my face heating up. God, did I really sound like that? I sounded like an idiot. I shut off my phone and tossed it to the side. I could die of humiliation later. For now, I should reap the rewards for looking like a massive moron in front of ten thousand people. And it was good to establish that I could get Prestige through videos posted online, but I was a bit puzzled how exactly that worked.

Could I have like a hundred different channels of me posting stuff to cast the widest possible net? Did it really matter if people didn't know it was me behind them all? Or did it just matter that some extension or face of myself became well known? It was something to consider.

But, for now, I should focus on what was important. The Market.

Welcome to the Market!

Current Rank: Minor Character

Prestige: 250

Below was a front-page that wouldn't look out of place on a website -- a list of items that were for sale, and a tab to sort them by categories. Honestly, it looked like the format was ripped from Amazon. The categories caught my eye -- there was the basic stuff like hardware, electronics, vehicles, and so on, but most notably, there were tabs for weapons. And Skills.

Pressing the list, a window appeared, filled with skills that could be further narrowed down to categories like mechanical skills, combat, medical, conversational… there was even a category for romance. Just about every skill imaginable, I had available at my fingertips. There was just one small problem.

"Why is everything so expensive?" I muttered, eyeing the pricetags. The cheapest skill I could find was for 5,000 with most averaging closer to 10,000 Prestige, and some closer to 15,000. "And why is everything so low tier?"

Market Tutorial: With the Rank: Minor Character, only Tier 1 Rank 1 skills and equipment are available to purchase. Additionally, each Rank has a limit to how many rolls can be purchased. With your current Rank, you can have up to 10.

Huh. So, I guess that I was a bit spoiled in that case. The two skills I had were Tier 3 Rank 5 -- both of which sold for garbage rates, I found. It seemed my ability was taking a video game stance -- items cost an arm and a leg to buy, and you would be lucky to see a fraction of that back if you tried to sell it. Still, it did help me learn the value of the points that I had -- and, simply put, I had the equivalent of pocket change.

My entire system was based around the points. I could invest them into my stats, which would improve my body. I could also invest them in my Skills. If I bought a Skill at 10k, it would be 1k to rank it up. Increasing it a Tier would cost about 5k. Meaning that, at the very least, I couldn't invest that 10k into my stats. It was an either-or situation, I couldn't do both. More than that, the more Skills that I had, the worse off I was because I couldn't invest in them all.

The more I broke it down, the more I saw that the ability I had focused on specialization. Skills had Stat requirements to be used as well. Most of which I was in the ballpark of, but I could only see the lowest tier and rank. Who knew what the highest tier would look like.

"This is where the gambling comes in," I muttered, clicking away and bringing up another tab.

I could buy rolls. Mini-games that I could bet prestige points on, gain skills, and then sell them. I could probably make bank flipping skills like that. In theory, at least -- the idea was somewhat limited by the fact I only had 10 rolls available per Rank.

The roll’s cost seemed to be determined by Rank -- with Minor Character being 100 Prestige to buy a roll. Higher ranks would offer better rewards, which in turn made them cost more.

After a moment of consideration, I bought a roll for a hundred points. Simply put, the points that I had right now weren't worth crap. I couldn't buy any skills with them. I could barely buy any items. I needed more, and a skill to sell would help immensely.

In response, an arcade machine appeared before me -- pinball. So, I had a variety to mini-games to deal with. The field of play was left blank -- just walls and tunnels with two levers to bounce the metal ball up. The reward was determined by the score I received -- 25 thousand for Tier 1, 50 thousand for Tier 2, and 100 thousand for Tier 3 -- which seemed to be the highest tier that was available to me. What's more, I could bet on which milestone I would reach.

I pressed the levers to test their responsiveness with a frown on my face -- Pinball was more hand-eye coordination than anything. That, and controlling the force and angle of the ball. In theory, it should be an easy win. However, I couldn't remember the last time I had played pinball.

And that was the danger of betting and risking it all. To get the best possible Skill, you had to risk everything. If I screwed up this game, I could buy another roll and try to make it big with it if it was more my speed. This ability of mine… it rewarded risk.

My memory flashed back to staring down the barrel of a gun… then breaking that man's arm like it was nothing.

The stakes were too high to not take risks… but a bad risk could ruin me just as surely as being too careful.

I bet the rest of the 150 points, Risking It All… on the first milestone. It was the safest bet I could take -- I could double my money, and it was a target I could hit with certainty. Anything higher decreased my chances. With my bet made, I began to play by pulling the plunger and launching the ball into the maze of bumpers and tunnels and flashing lights.

It was pretty easy to puzzle out the tricks Pinball used to throw you off your game -- flashing lights, and dark and bright colors serving as a background to make the ball hard to see. Tunnels that could spit the ball out at high speeds, bumpers that knocked it across the board a half dozen times before flinging the metal ball at the levers… once you focus solely on the ball, it was pretty easy to rank up your high score.

I probably could have hit the fifty thousand threshold, but if I did then I would have lost my points so I sunk the ball.

Congratulations! You have 300 Prestige! Your reward is…

Flash Step

Tier 1 Rank 5

The Lightning Step Stance's foundation is rooted in explosive movement to advance or retreat from an enemy’s position. To the untrained eye, the user will move in a blur -- however, the technique is limited to only being able to move frontwards and backwards.

Rank Up: 5000

Sell: 1000

That was a useful skill, wasn't it? It was a bit limited, sure, but it gave me mobility. I eyed the sell button for a moment before I closed the window -- for now, I would keep it. It was another combat Skill that I could possibly use. I could always sell it later, and I still had nine rolls to buy at my current Rank. If I thought I could snag something better, then I would sell it and roll with the points I got.

"Ren?" I heard Mom call out. "Breakfast," she informed, prompting me to get up. I eyed my door for a moment, before I decided to test out my new Skill. I settled in a stance -- my back foot flat, toes pointed the way I wanted to go, my front foot arched, as if I were about to take a step. Then I moved -- the technique was rooted in the ankles… and it worked.

I moved in a blur of movement, one moment I was standing near my bed, and the next my hand was on the door. I looked down at my feet, then at the bed -- it wasn't some huge distance, but I had crossed it instantaneously.

I could work with that.

Stepping out of my room and into the kitchen, I saw that Dad had shown up at some point. He sat at the table, a traditional Chinese breakfast before him as he looked at his phone, reading the news and checking the stock market to learn where things had moved in the premarket. Mom was cooking away, but I saw that my plate had already been made.

"Morning," I greeted, pulling out a chair. Mom turned around and aimed a warm smile at me.

"Morning, Ren," she returned, a bit too happy, but… I guess it was my first morning back with them.

"Morning, Ren," Dad returned, looking up at me as I took my seat. "Sleep well?" He asked me, and I'm absolutely certain that he knew I snuck out last night.

I offered a shrug before I grabbed my chopsticks, "I think I got used to that hospital bed. It feels strange sleeping in mine now," I hedged, wondering if he would press the issue. I didn't want to admit to anything if he didn't know. Though, I doubt he would assume that I had gone out picking fights with muggers.

Dad gave me a lingering look, his dark eyes almost cold as he looked at me for an incredibly long moment. He absolutely knew I had gone out last night. "I'm sure you'll get used to it," Dad said, choosing not to comment on it. That was… surprising.

I chewed on some rice. "So… now that I'm out of the hospital… do you think I could officially thank my uncle?" I questioned -- I had been met with excuses about why I couldn't speak to the guy, or meet him when I had asked about him. The only thing I knew about the guy was that he was my dad's brother -- adopted, older, or younger, I had no clue -- and that the guy was apparently loaded.

However, you'd think I had just told my parents that I was an alien with how they looked at me. There was a beat of tense silence that lasted just long enough for me to realize that I had jumped headfirst into the mother of all landmines.

Dad responded first by tucking his phone in his pocket and standing up. "I'll pass your gratitude to him," Dad informed me, his voice firm. The kind of way that he only sounded when there would be no arguing with him. He offered a quiet thanks to Mom for breakfast before he promptly turned on his heel and marched out the door.

I frowned at it for a moment, before turning my attention back to my meal.

Looks like I wasn't the only one with secrets.