The Good Life: Recruitment (ch. 13) (Patreon)

"So, the Eight became the Four, huh?" I muttered, kicking my feet up as the reports rolled on in. "Homelander sure can get shit done when he wants to," I observed. Cinder's tip off had been a huge help. Honestly, it had probably saved my ass. I needed to thank her for that. Maybe send her a gift basket? Eh, she seemed more of the 'darkest secrets of her enemies' type of girl. The point being was that even with her tipping me off that Vought and the government were about to start making some moves, we still hadn't managed to get away clean. Carl Falcon got pinched, and so did… uhhh… what were their names… uhhh… the… leaders of the All-Americans, SSS, and Nightbloods. I think.

They reacted well enough. They scampered out like cornered rats, finding hidey holes throughout New York. Their gangs and criminal empires were raided by the FBI, leading to hundreds of arrests. Tens of millions in lost product. They did their best, but it just didn't matter in the face of Homelander.

"You really are incredible," I told Homelander, who was smiling for the cameras as he announced the successful operation. Not counting me, there were only three members left of the Eight. Little Nina, and… uh… probably the two that I didn’t mention before. Probably. I'm guessing that the FBI wouldn't be too keen on letting us recover either, especially with how fast they made the announcement -- they really wanted to look good for the cameras. Reassure the public that they were worth the taxes that funded them. A smile tugged at my lips as I watched the broadcast, finding myself deeply amused and feeling a thrill of excitement.

If I actually gave a shit about my organization, I'm sure I'd be really worried right now.

"Edgar, you didn't disappoint," I mused. This was a huge blow to my organization. As far as the world was concerned, this was a massive black eye. A sign that the government and Vought were certainly going to apprehend me eventually. The lie that they kept pedaling was being reinforced with hard evidence.

"This is a large set back for us, Law. I would appreciate it if you didn't sound so happy about it," Robin rebuked, sounding a little annoyed. That was a first. Her tone usually ranged from amused to indifferent.

"Sorry," I apologized, feeling a bit bad. I knew that Robin had some time and effort invested into unifying the Eight. I really didn't think it was necessary -- so long as they paid the kick up, I genuinely couldn't care less about any of them. But, Robin felt differently and she probably felt annoyed that her efforts had been wasted. I knew that feeling -- when you had a hobby that you realized wasn't worth the amount of effort you put into it.

"Do you intend to break them out of prison?" Robin asked me, the question catching me flat footed.

"No? Why would I?" I asked, genuinely curious on why I would bother with such a thing. What did it matter to me if they had been captured? "They're just criminals. I can always find more to take their place."

There was a small pause, "I was worried you might do something foolish, but it seems I didn't need to." Robin sounded relieved. Oi. I feel like she was pretty rude to me just now? Ah, well, I couldn't say that wasn't fair. "They know little about our aims, though the information they do possess about the inner workings of our organization could prove problematic. I was prepared for this eventuality, however -- I have a list of suitable candidates to replace them."

"If you feel like they're a good fit, then I'll trust you," I told her with a dismissive wave of my hand. I couldn't be bothered, really. Is this what being in upper management felt like? Just pawning off the work that you couldn't be arsed to do? Because it was an awesome feeling.

Robin chuckled, "I appreciate your faith, Law." She replied, and I think that sounded genuine. It was hard to tell with Robin. “I’ll ensure that it’s taken care of with minimal disruptions to the day to day operation. However, I do believe there is something that requires your… personal touch.” Robin continued, and she sounded almost regretful. She instantly had my full attention.

“I’m in,” I agreed easily, practically smelling the entertainment. Didn’t matter what it was. I was-

“Sage Grove,” Robin interjected, derailing my thoughts. Oh. That. “We’ve rescued a number of supes from the facility. As well as procured a number of records to sort through. However, those rescued are… restless. Seeing you would do a great deal to soothe them.” She voiced, and I heard what she was saying. I did. Having supes in the Eight would be awesome -- way cooler than having a bunch of lame ass human gang leaders in it. It would massively up our punching power and make us a greater threat than we already were.

However, I also knew myself. I was the very last person they should be talking to.

I was something of an asshole, and quite emotionally insensitive.

“... Send them to a licensed therapist. Or a not licensed therapist,” I deflected, turning my attention to the Tv. Oh, there was a whole speech going on in front of the station not that far away from us. Ahhh… should I go crash it?

“There is no therapy for what they endured. What was done to them was truly barbaric. What they need, however, is direction that I believe you can provide.” Robin replied, her tone smooth as she spoke through the speaker of a phone. I still didn’t want to do it. I was a real piece of shit. I was a Supervillain, so that was a given, but there was a pretty big difference between being a bad guy and being a bad guy. “Perhaps you would be interested in making a deal?”

Oh, she really knew how to wrap me around her little finger. “You know I would,” I replied, seeing a bunch of arresting officers stepping onto the stage alongside Homelander and Queen Maeve. They all seemed pretty proud of themselves as some guy -- I think the police commissioner, or at least someone important -- gave medals for the two heroes to pin on their chests. “What kind of deal?”

“An entertaining one. If you laugh, you’ll speak to the supes we rescued from Sage Grove Center,” Robin finessed me like a champ. I suppose watching me all hours of the day was paying off.

Still, a deal like that? “Alright, bet,” I decided, feeling confident. I shouldn’t have, in hindsight. I literally just got done thinking that she knew what made me tick, so it would only make sense that she would understand my sense of humor. I realized that mistake when I saw it happen on live TV.

Hands sprouted from the backs and shoulders of everyone on stage, with the exception of Homelander and Queen Maeve. My eyes widened in a split second, the cheering and speeches pausing as one. Making it dead silent so the cameras reporting on the ceremony could hear what happened next. The arms bent the police officers and the police commissioner in ways that the human body wasn’t meant to bend. The sounds of bones snapping and popping out of place made a symphony -- turns out, bones cracking and snapping didn’t sound like a celery stick being folded.

Everyone dropped into twitching heaps, unable to even scream at the suddenness of it. Homelander stood there with a dumbfounded expression on his face as the hands faded into flower pedals. It took a painfully long second for it to register for everyone else, and the screaming just began before the news station cut to the news anchor, who seemed absolutely shell-shocked.

I shouldn’t laugh. I couldn’t laugh. I knew it. I did. I gave it my best shot… but it was like those videos on the internet of little kids waddling around, heads completely devoid of a single thought, before they do something stupid and immediately eating shit because of it. It was wrong to laugh, and you knew that you shouldn’t, but that just made it harder to resist because it was hilarious. “Pfft.”

“I’m counting that,” Robin informed, and if that was the case then there was no point holding back. I threw my head back and laughed at the stammering news anchor that looked like she was desperately waiting for someone to cut to a commercial. I absolutely cackled, knowing that this was going to rub some dirt in so many eyes -- Vought? The police? The whole damn world that was in the middle of celebrating a major win, only to have it ripped away from them?

It was hilarious.

“They’ll heal in roughly six months,” Robin continued over my laughter, sounding amused with my amusement. “It seemed unnecessary to kill them. Though, perhaps it would have been more effective, seeing as I have revealed myself in earnest.” She continued while I struggled to breath. It was just too good. Oh, I couldn’t even imagine the faces of Edgar. Of everyone in Congress or the Senate or whatever, who had been patting themselves on the back for a job well done.

It was like seeing those guys celebrating too early in a race or something, only to get passed by at the last second. It was perfection. I loved it.

"You're the best, Robin," I chuckled.

"Naturally. I know you would have done something excessive otherwise," she remarked, and she was probably right about that, though what she did blew my half formed plans right out of the water. However, what she said did catch my attention.

"Is that why you're speaking through the phone?" I asked her, deciding that I had to uphold my end of the bargain. I put on a pair of pants, and shrugged on a jacket before putting on a backpack that had some goodies in case it became a fight -- grenades, bananas, smelling salts and so on.

To that, Robin went silent for a long moment, seemingly realizing what she had passively admitted to. That she had a range. I always knew that to be the case -- it had to be, otherwise there would be nothing stopping her from snapping a neck on the other side of the planet. It was just a question of what her range was, and until now, I had assumed it to be the entirety of New York City. But, if she had prepared the phone, then that probably meant her range was smaller than I initially thought.

"And if it is?" She questioned, her guard all the way up as I headed to the elevator.

"Nothing. I just feel like you're starting to trust me a little. Makes me happy," I told her, the phone in my ear. There was a pause on the other end…

And I wasn't particularly surprised when she hung up.

Robin was a shy one.

…

Staten Island. The asshole of New York, in the opinion of the locals, but it was a pretty good place to act as a hide out. Or so I imagined as I sailed there on a ferry, everyone abuzz with what Robin did. The panic had set in and now people were starting to wonder what was stopping Robin from snapping their necks at any moment? It was amusing to watch, but my attention was drawn to other things.

My powers, namely.

My Rooms could be improved in a lot of ways. Physical weight didn't really seem to matter, but some people felt heavier than others. It was their ego, I think. Or willpower. Or it could be their experience, which would explain why Homelander had felt so heavy. It wasn't quite a muscle that I could train with deadlifts. Instead, it was something I had to learn fine control over. My range had surged during the fight against the Seven and Mirko, but my control hadn't.

Which left me practicing on the way over. Making Rooms and training myself to look beyond the surface level. I was aware of everything in a Room, but it was too vague. A person there, or a phone there. I was trying to see the details -- what color underwear were they wearing? Did they have any notable scars or birthmarks? What about what was on the phone?

I improved my awareness of the things that I couldn't see -- like sound waves. At first, I couldn't manipulate them at all, but now I was getting a pretty good grasp on how to bend them to reach my ears.

"I'm not good with my powers, yet," I mused to myself, looking out at the dock while I leaned on the railing. I was getting there. Slowly. But, I didn't think I could be called good. It was still difficult for me to physically manipulate something within a Room -- I proved that by struggling to lift a latch that kept the passengers from falling off the boat. I had to raise a finger, as if I was physically lifting the latch to do the trick, making a couple of stupid teenagers fall into the water. That's what the 'Do Not Lean' sign was for. Idiots.

Getting off the boat, I had to close the Room because I couldn't physically move it. Another kink I was trying to work out because it'd be hella convenient to be able to carry a Room with me.

I had so many ideas for my powers kicking around in my head. I didn't know if they were possible or not -- could I touch people's emotions? Could I touch their memories? Could I touch data on a computer? Could I extract the taste of the chocolate scone I had bought along the way and put it into the coffee I got with it? I’d tried exactly that, but failed. Was it a skill issue? Or was it just not possible?

Instead of taste, I pushed the warmth of the coffee into the scone to warm it up a bit and took another bite, finding the chocolate slightly melted.

"I have a long road ahead of me if I want to take my shot at the big leagues," I decided, scarfing down my scone when I saw the meet up point. I didn't bring enough to share with everyone. And that's how I liked it. Both not sharing, and the fact that I had a long road ahead of me.

It'd be fucking boring if I had already mastered my powers to the utmost level.

Finishing off my coffee, I approached the low set building that looked like it was an abandoned deli shop. Yoruichi was sitting in the window, watching me approach, and I tossed the empty cup into an overfull trashcan. It bounced off the top.

"Littering. You fiend," Youruichi remarked, and I don't think I was ever going to get used to how crazy deep his voice was.

"I am a Supervillain," I returned, holding out a hand. "Room," I intoned, the Room spreading out. I became aware of the people in the basement -- four of them, ironically enough. Two women, two men. All of them seemed nervous, but I couldn't tell much more beyond that. "Is that all of them?"

"The ones that agreed to meet you. The rest are in… protective custody, I guess you could call it. They possessed powers that hurt them, or were too mentally unstable. It was decided that they would go into hiding," Yoruichi reported and I nodded. Didn't have a problem with that. Then my weeb cat pushed forward a manilla folder, nearly knocking it off of a dusty table. "This is what we gathered from the asylum."

I couldn't read what was inside of the folders, annoyingly, forcing me to pick it up and open it like some kind of peasant. Inside were some medical records and mumbo jumbo that I couldn't make heads or tails of. The bits I could understand stood out to me, though -- names, dates of acquisition, powers… and…

Kimiko Miyashiro. A member of the Shining Light Liberation Army. Blah, blah, blah -- important part was that she wasn't created in that asylum. She was brought in.

"A Supervillain," I muttered under my breath, something standing out to me now. "When I met Homelander… he said already. He wasn't surprised by me," I thought aloud, not quite sure what that meant. I hadn't thought about that reaction until now, but in light of this information -- it seemed someone was trying to create supes, and one of the success stories was a member of a terrorist organization…

I didn't know what that meant. "Did you find anything else?" I asked, flipping through the files, giving them a passing glance in case anything else stood out to me.

"Nothing of note. No one within the facility knew who they were working for -- though we did manage to get intel that whoever it is, has a supe. Female, white, mid twenties, black hair and blue eyes. Lightning based power set," Youruichi rattled off, sounding like he had practiced giving reports. "Paper trail is coming up with nothing. Whoever was behind Sage Grove Center did a good job of covering their tracks. But, it didn't change that we do know of their existence, now."

A glass half full point of view. I loved the optimism. "They're making Supervillains," I mused, not entirely sure how I felt about that. They were making supes. Felt even less certain how I felt about that.

It kind of undermined my entire point. Just a little bit. The whole 'there aren't enough heroes to save everyone' thing. Not to mention it was a total fucking dick move to start creating supervillians right when I got a chance to live out my childhood dream. So, for that reason alone, I had to put an end to this. I was going to be the world's greatest supervillian and I would ruthlessly root out any competition like I was a venture capitalist protecting an illegal monopoly. Like Disney.

Regardless, the blue stuff could make capes. With shitty powers, for the most part, but not everyone could be a winner.

"Jealous?" Youruichi questioned, sounding amused.

"Very. But now I'm thinking that it'd be really cool if I could make a bunch of super villain supes to work for me. Or round up and subdue a bunch of terrorist supes for the same result," I admitted. That could be entertaining. Very entertaining. "Anything else worth mentioning?" I asked, closing the folder.

"Your mole has proven reliable. She really is only loyal to herself, so that's a risk, but a minor one so long as she feels like you're the winning side," Youruichi began, licking a paw. "She and Starlight are engaged in a master slave relationship, but you knew that already. The Deep is every bit as stupid as he seemed…"

I got my hopes up, "And Mirko?"

"She's a real hero. I doubt she'd ever work with you if there's a better choice," Youruichi replied.

That so? "Good. I'm glad at least someone lives up to the title," I said, heading down to the basement underneath the deli. Which I can only assume  was a mob haunt or something back in the day, because the entrance was hidden behind a fridge. Homelander was the goal. The one that I had to beat. The rest of the Seven had been a pretty big disappointment so far, but it was nice that I would be going up against another real, genuine, hero.

"Most wouldn't be so happy to have a powerful enemy," Youruichi chuckled as I affixed the mask to my face and descended down into the basement.

The four looked like hell warmed over, I quickly noted, looking for all the things that I had missed with my Room awareness. They were wearing new but ill fitted clothing to replace the scrubs they had been wearing. Kimiko wore an 'I Heart New York' shirt as she squatted in the corner, watching me a lot like a cornered rat. The other girl had a shaved head and pasty white skin, like she hadn't seen the sun in years. And she probably hadn't.

With her, I felt something in the Room. A force that told me she was ready to crush me the moment she decided to.

One guy was standing up, fidgeting where he stood. He was a tall lanky fella that could best be described as awkward. The other guy was sitting on the ground, barely having noticed my presence as he picked at a scab.

Kimiko. Cindy. Tony. Alex.

Regeneration. Pressure manipulation. Sound wave generation. Mimicking the properties of things he ate.

"Hello, I'm Heartless. And, what you people need is a metric shit ton of therapy," I began, coming to a stop before pointing at Kimiko. "Especially you. Insides are supposed to stay inside." To that, her lips curled back into a snarl.

"In a better world, you people would get what you need to unfuck your heads. Or, better yet, what was done to you wouldn't have been done in the first place. Seeing as you're all here, and at least a little crazy, we do not live in that better world," I began, glancing at everyone. Cindy was clearly debating killing me. Tony looked like he was about to start crying. Alex was eating pebbles. "We live in this one. Now, I can't give you the help that you all clearly need. I don't have it in me to give you any pity either. Everyone's life sucks, and yours just so happened to be an illegal human experimentation flavor of suck."

I didn't have it in me to hold anyone's hand and let them have a good cry on my shoulder. I don't particularly care about their mental health beyond the fact that it would end up being my problem to deal with if they went fucking ballistic.

"What I can give you is a shot at revenge," I said, and that caught all of their attention. Kimiko had a hungry look in her eyes. Cindy was snarling where she stood, her hands clenching into fists. Even Tony clenched his jaw and stood a little straighter. Alex just ate another rock. "And resources to make sure that shot sticks. However, this isn't a charity. To get, you gotta give. What I want is your powers and your help when I ask for it. I don't particularly care what you get up to beyond that -- wanna rob a bank? Go ahead. Hold up a liquor store? Knock yourself out. Kill some supes? Be my guest."

I held up a hand, "Rules are lame, so you can consider this a request. Don't lead any trouble to my doorstep and when I ask you to do something or join me on a job, you do it. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. That seems fair, right?" I questioned looking around to see a bunch of blank looks.

Oddly enough, Alex was the first to nod as he ate some dirt. Oh, he had made it into a little mud pie. Good for him. Cindy unclenched her fists, the anger bleeding out of her to be relaxed with a vengeful look in her eyes. I'm seeing red mist in my near future. Interesting.

Kimiko stood up, approaching me cautiously, like a cat. Then she started waving her hands around.

"I don't know sign language, and I don't care enough to learn," I told her bluntly.

To that, her lips thinned. She clearly understood English. She seemed to war with herself for a few seconds, as if trying to figure out how to ask or say whatever she was trying to. However, she seemed to give up on it because she offered a curt nod.

Tony, being an absolute wallflower, just nodded in agreement, after seeing the others do so.

Right.

None of them were particularly talkative, but I'm sure that would change when they warmed up to me.

"Cool. Let's get you set up," I said, starting to head back up the stairs before I paused. "Oh, wait, forgot something -- Welcome to the Eight! Happy to have ya'!" I told them, ascending up the stairs, and giving them a chance to talk amongst themselves.

Yoruichi chuckled in my wake, "You do have a fascinating way of doing things."

"Crazy knows how to speak to crazy," I replied flippantly. I had four reasonably powerful supes replacing the lame ass humans that I used to have in the Eight. Four supes that were powerful and completely off their fucking rocker, whom I just gave free range to do whatever the hell they wanted at probably the darkest point of their lives.

Being a Supervillain was so much fun.