“Batgirl!” Fiona from Shrek screams inside my head.
“Pick her!”
“Supergirl!”
Then the image of Shrek himself appears in my mind.
For some reason, the King makes me think of Raven, while the Queen reminds me of Starfire.
And then Donkey delivers the obvious answer.
“Harley Quinn.”
That ridiculous meme had been running through my head, filling the mental void while I had nothing more important to think about.
The question of sex is eternal in every world.
But in the DC Multiverse, where the concentration of objectively gorgeous women in latex per square mile exceeds every statistical norm imaginable…
Well, even my current existence as a cold-blooded undead creature hadn’t completely eliminated certain fantasies.
Maybe it had actually made them worse.
The recently acquired Happy Romantic Trait had clearly taken root in my subconscious, forcing my dead brain to generate completely inappropriate ideas at the worst possible moments.
“How long has it actually been since this whole circus at the arena started?
Six hours?
Seven?”
I forcibly interrupted my highly intellectual debate over whether blondes or redheads were more attractive.
Although the correct answer was always brunettes.
“Where the hell am I rushing to?”
I pushed the nonsense aside and focused on reality.
Another fork appeared ahead of me in the damp tunnel, which reeked of mold and methane.
My instincts, heavily amplified by the passive Scavenger Trait, insistently told me to take the passage on the right.
So I did.
My thoughts returned to their usual cold, rational state.
I’d think about girls after I actually met at least one of them.
Barbara, for example.
Judging by my recent indirect arguments with Batman, she was currently at the top of the list for testing my newfound “romantic” luck.
A rough topographical map of Gotham unfolded inside my mind, reconstructed from information I’d pulled from the internet back on the rooftop.
The city was a dark collection of several smaller landmasses, including Arkham Island, along with three major islands: Burnley, Somerset, and Old Gotham.
Ordinary residents, without the burden of cartographic snobbery, preferred simpler names.
Upper Gotham.
Central Gotham.
And, naturally, Old Gotham.
Right now, my boots were grinding through centuries of filth in the deep catacombs beneath Old Gotham.
Getting down to this historical layer had required me to locate abandoned subway stations boarded up decades ago, jump onto rusted tracks, and then systematically descend deeper and deeper beneath the city until I’d reached the labyrinth of dried-out brick sewers dating back to the nineteenth century.
I was looking for Wonder City.
And every few dozen meters, I regretted not having precise GPS coordinates for this hole in the ground.
I had to rely entirely on my Scavenger instincts, investigate every suspicious opening, and follow the golden rule of underground archaeology:
Always go down.
Fortunately, I’d accumulated enough experience mining and exploring underground dungeons to last several lifetimes.
And darkness?
Darkness had stopped frightening me a long time ago.
At this stage of my evolution, the darkness had more reason to fear what was hiding inside me.
I already had one crucial clue suggesting that the foundations of Wonder City were located beneath Old Gotham.
For someone in my line of work, that was ninety percent of the battle.
The remaining ten percent consisted of the possibility that Wonder City simply didn’t exist in this particular, distorted branch of the universe.
“But…
if the League of Assassins and Ra’s al Ghul exist in this world, then Wonder City has to exist too,” I reassured myself.
“That old fanatic isn’t exactly the type to leave a Lazarus Pit unattended.”
That was precisely why I’d started this underground expedition in the first place.
Well, that and farming Tickets, obviously.
Finding a hidden city erased from the maps was already enough to qualify as a Feat.
And actually taking a dip in the Lazarus Pit…
“That should be at least Gold.”
I jumped over a rotten pipe blocking the passage.
“But I’d even bet on Platinum.”
“Although my current Nightmare Knight physiology is guaranteed to clash with the concentrated life energy filling the Pit.”
“So I’ll have to…”
“Wait.”
I stopped.
“What the hell is that?”
My eyes caught a distorted shadow reflected across the damp brick wall ahead.
A human shadow.
I grinned, exposing my gums, and shot around the corner at inhuman speed.
The movement was completely silent.
A fraction of a second later, my heavy, pale hand clamped around the throat of a man who looked like he’d stepped straight out of some cheap manga.
A stereotypical Japanese ninja.
He was completely covered in dark tactical fabric, with a katana strapped across his back.
He didn’t even have time to make a sound before I lifted him off the ground.
For starters, I decided to be polite.
I released Aura of Terror at fifty percent power, suppressing any desire he might have had to resist.
“Trained members of the League of Assassins, with all their brainwashing, should be different from ordinary Arkham guards who piss themselves at the first sign of trouble.”
“At least in a more professional way.”
I was already preparing to interrogate the assassin quickly and efficiently.
I opened my mouth to begin the conversation.
And then…
CHWAK.
A dull, nauseating sound.
The assassin’s body suddenly convulsed in my grip.
Then his head literally exploded from the inside with a wet pop.
Some kind of micro-explosive had been implanted in his jaw or the base of his skull.
I was sprayed from head to toe with hot blood, chunks of flesh, and tiny fragments of bone.
The lifeless body collapsed onto the stones.
“Fucking fanatics.”
I shook the man’s brains from my fingers with disgust.
I probably should have realized that League operatives would be ideologically committed suicide machines with their brains thoroughly washed.
But this was extreme even for them.
He hadn’t hesitated for a second.
The moment he realized he’d been captured by a monster he couldn’t escape from, he activated the capsule.
My respect to their recruitment and brainwashing departments.
Feat Completed: Force another sentient being to brutally commit suicide.
Reward: 1 Silver Ticket.
“Well, at least your suicide was useful.”
I nodded approvingly at the empty air while wiping the man’s biological remains from my face.
“But the System was definitely being generous with the word ‘sentient.'”
I continued walking.
“At least there’s one positive.”
“I’m definitely heading in the right direction.”
Aside from the free Silver Ticket, the encounter had given me an excellent landmark.
If they had suicide soldiers stationed along the route, Wonder City had to be nearby.
I moved forward with greater confidence, sharpening my senses as much as possible.
Every little detail mattered.
Scratches on the stones.
Air currents.
Hidden mechanisms.
The subtle signs of traps.
My Scavenger Trait greedily absorbed every scrap of information, leading me along an invisible trail.
About ten minutes and one more League assassin later, I finally found what I was looking for.
An entrance.
An elevator.
It was an old, monumental vintage structure with a heavy steampunk aesthetic.
Copper pipes.
Gears.
Massive metal grating.
I didn’t waste time thinking about it.
I simply ripped the rusted doors and mechanism out of their frame, stepped into the dark shaft, and dropped.
The free fall lasted approximately five seconds.
“Almost one hundred and twenty meters deep.”
My internal calculator helpfully supplied the information.
Then I landed on the roof of the stalled elevator car with a deafening metallic crash.
My undead physiology and Epic ability absorbed the impact, converting the force into kinetic energy.
Directly in front of me was a narrow maintenance shaft.
Most likely, this was how the rats from the League of Assassins entered Wonder City, moving back and forth through the underground passages.
I jumped into the shaft, then kicked through another jammed door on the lower level.
Finally, I stepped outside.
And found myself standing inside a colossal open cavern disappearing into darkness.
“Well…”
I looked around critically.
“For something called Wonder City, this place really doesn’t live up to the name.”
Ruins stretched out before me.
It looked like the poorest, filthiest slums of Old Gotham, except someone had ripped the entire neighborhood out of the nineteenth century and buried it underground.
Low, squat residential buildings made of dark brick.
None of them stood more than three stories high.
Wrought-iron balconies.
Gas lamps that hadn’t seen a flame in decades.
Most of the buildings were in such terrible, rotten condition that even the most desperate homeless person on the surface wouldn’t risk sleeping inside for fear of being buried alive.
In terms of overall area, this underground necropolis was roughly equivalent to three or four large Gotham neighborhoods.
“There’s plenty of room to explore.”
I looked around.
“But considering the complete lack of architectural ambition and the absolutely terrible location, I’m not surprised Ra’s al Ghul considered restoring this city a hopeless project.”
Seriously.
Gotham itself had originally been built over an ancient Native American burial ground and cursed land.
For centuries, the city had practically fed on the energy of death, paranoia, pain, and human suffering.
And geographically speaking, Wonder City was closest to the source of that curse.
The rotten heart of Gotham.
“No wonder I feel so good here.”
I inhaled deeply, taking in the stale, dead air.
“Death and Darkness energy.”
“Perfect conditions for a Higher Undead.”
“It’s like I’ve come to a fucking resort.”
Feat Completed: Discover Hidden Location, Wonder City.
Reward: 1 Silver Ticket.
Now this was why living was worthwhile.
Only one more Silver Ticket until I reached a nice round number, allowing me to burn ten of them and synthesize a Gold.
“And look at that.”
I stopped and stared at the plaza ahead.
“An entire welcoming committee.”
A large group of League assassins stood in a semicircle across the square.
At least thirty of them.
Judging by the drawn katanas, kusarigamas, and fanatical gleam in their eyes, they intended to defend the approaches to the Lazarus Pit at the cost of their lives.
Unfortunately for them, they didn’t seem interested in running away or blowing their own heads off.
“Faceless extras.”
I snorted boredly.
I slowly extended one hand.
Space rippled.
The heavy, brutal handle of Dragon Slayer dropped into my palm.
The sword’s tip scraped loudly across the stone pavement.
Then I turned Aura of Terror all the way up.
Primitive fear spread across the square like black fog.
The air itself seemed to freeze.
“Ready to dance?”
I gave them a crooked smile and adjusted my grip on the sword.
Then I internally screamed at myself and nearly slapped my own face.
“Fuck.”
“Damn Eighth-Grader Syndrome!”
“Those over-the-top anime lines are coming out of my mouth again!”
“Now I’m killing every witness to this cringe purely on principle.”
Feat Completed: Destroy an Elite Enemy Squad, League of Assassins.
Reward: 1 Gold Ticket.
“Gold?”
I leaned against the sword’s handle and critically examined the bloody mess covering the underground plaza.
Slashed wounds.
Dismembered bodies.
Fountains of blood already beginning to soak into the ancient dust of Wonder City.
I didn’t feel any pity, emotional anguish, or sympathy for the dead.
Not even slightly.
Every one of these guys in black pajamas was a cold-blooded, trained killer.
Each had dozens, perhaps hundreds, of lives behind them, all sacrificed for the dubious ideals of an eco-terrorist.
These weren’t like the terrified Arkham guards working for a paycheck.
Nor were they government attack dogs from ARGUS simply following orders.
Those people, at least, I could understand on a human level.
These men were different.
“At least those other people were still human.”
“They had fears, emotions, mortgages, families, and lives.”
“Here?”
“Just empty puppets with their brains washed clean.”
“No free will.
No fear.
Nothing but fanaticism.”
“What I just did to them could easily be classified as humanitarian liberation.”
I philosophically concluded my thoughts while wiping blood from the blade.
With a mental command, I returned the enormous sword to my spatial inventory.
After confirming that every member of the welcoming committee was dead, I pulled out the Dread Glaive and absorbed several dozen of the assassins’ ghosts.
Then I continued toward the architectural center of this underground hellhole.
The Lazarus Pit was obviously somewhere there, at the heart of the ruins.
Walking in silence was boring.
So, along the way, I materialized the Gold Ticket I’d just earned and tore it in half.
Name: Sky Guardian
Type: Trait
Rarity: Elite
Description:
You belong to the heavens.
All abilities, skills, and attacks based on wind magic or air manipulation become significantly more effective, require less energy to use, and become instinctively easier to master.
Additionally, while airborne, you passively and rapidly regenerate all forms of energy.
“Ugh.”
“A Trait.”
I frowned unhappily.
My reaction was justified by the irritating red warning that immediately appeared beneath the description.
Warning!
Trait slot limit reached.
Maximum: 5
Choose one of the following options to resolve the System conflict:
1.
Burn an existing Trait and free a slot for the new one.
2.
Burn the new Trait, Sky Guardian, and receive compensation in the form of a lower-rarity Ticket, Silver.
3.
Fuse the new Trait with one of your existing Traits.
No Synergies available for this Trait.
I mentally reviewed my System profile as I continued walking.
Sky Guardian was objectively powerful and useful.
It wouldn’t have received an Elite rating otherwise.
Accelerated mana regeneration while airborne was completely broken.
And the Trait would probably synergize with a huge number of other Traits in the future.
Giving it up for a pathetic Silver Ticket would be a crime against common sense.
Which left only one option.
You have chosen to burn the Trait “Happy Romantic” (Uncommon).
This action is irreversible.
Please confirm your selection.
“Confirmed.”
I clicked the virtual confirmation with a heavy mental sigh.
“That’s because I’m currently undead, isn’t it?”
“The System is dropping hints.”
“Underneath this ash-gray, bloodless epidermis, there is still a heart…”
“Well, metaphorically speaking.”
“A heart that wants love, affection, warm embraces, and simple human happiness!”
My body was suddenly filled with a strange phantom sensation of lightness.
A faint breeze appeared around my shoulders, seemingly from nowhere.
A sign that Sky Guardian had activated and established itself within my soul matrix.
As for a harmonious romantic life and good luck with women…
I could now only dream about them philosophically.
“Sorry, Barbara.”
I mentally pictured the red-haired beauty and gave a crooked smile.
“But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
“Maybe the merciless Gacha decided I was too good for you.”
“Or you’re too good for me.”
I snorted at the damp emptiness of the tunnel and continued walking without slowing down.
The System’s total activation counter had now passed nineteen Tickets.
The twentieth activation would guarantee another Curse.
And I seriously doubted it would be something amusing like Eighth-Grader Syndrome.
All I could hope for was something whose negative effects could be neutralized simply by taking a bath in the Lazarus Pit.
Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by a physiological reaction.
My dead body itself began pulling me toward the right, almost as though I’d been caught by a magnet.
My undead instincts, the subconscious instincts of the Nightmare Knight, whispered, begged, screamed that the path on the right was quiet, peaceful, safe, and comfortable.
But the left…
The left contained something alien.
Something fundamentally wrong.
Something so scorching and blinding that my dark nature desperately wanted to crawl into the deepest corner of my mind and hide.
I forced my dead body to resist its instincts.
Then I deliberately turned left.
What could possibly be the most terrifying and disgusting thing for a Higher Undead in this cursed underground world?
The answer was obvious.
A concentrated, absolute manifestation of Life.
I walked another few dozen meters, turned around the corner of a ruined residential complex, and finally saw it.
A small natural pool surrounded by stone blackened by age.
Thick, viscous liquid filled the basin.
Its toxic green glow illuminated the cavern ceiling with emerald reflections.
The Lazarus Pit.
Feat Completed: Discover a Hidden Mythic Relic of the Universe, Lazarus Pit.
Reward: 1 Silver Ticket.
I stopped at the edge of the stone basin, staring at the translucent System window in disbelief.
“Only Silver?!”
“Gacha, are you fucking kidding me?”
“This is a MYTHIC LORE RELIC!”
“System, have you completely lost your damn mind?!”
Of course, logically, I understood the algorithm.
Simply discovering something was one thing.
Coming here, looking at it, and taking a sightseeing tour wasn’t exactly a heroic achievement.
Interacting with it, diving in, and breaking the fundamental concept of death?
That would be an entirely different level.
That deserved a much bigger reward.
Still…
It was annoying.
My inflated ego demanded fireworks.
“This System really doesn’t appreciate a beautiful, efficient, magnificent specimen like me.”
“I’ve spent the last few hours exceeding the productivity targets of an entire crisis-management team!”
“I played cat and mouse with the Joker.”
“I exposed Superman’s secret identity to the entire world.”
“I became Batman’s personal enemy.”
“I caused chaos in Arkham.”
“I cut the goddamn Killer Croc in half and showed him who sits at the top of the food chain.”
“And I even cracked open one of the League of Assassins’ biggest secrets.”
“I’m the hardest-working, most productive, hyperactive dimensional traveler in the history of the DC Multiverse.”
“And what do I get for all my heroic archaeology?”
“A consolation-prize Silver Ticket.”
I sighed dramatically.
“They really don’t appreciate talent upstairs.”
“All right.”
“Enough whining.”
“Combine!”
I gave the mental command.
The ten accumulated Silver Tickets in my inventory ignited with System fire.
They burned to ash and merged together into a single heavy Gold Ticket.
I immediately materialized it in my hand and tore it apart.
Exactly the twentieth activation.
My calculation had been perfect.
I’d obtain the unknown Curse right here, standing beside the Lazarus Pit.
If necessary, I could potentially wash it away immediately in the green waters.
The Ticket dissolved.
The System window appeared.
Name: Jagger-Fanta
Type: Item, Consumable
Rarity: Uncommon
Description:
A package containing ten 0.5-liter glass bottles of legendary Jagger-Fanta soda.
After consuming an entire bottle, you gain a temporary one-hour increase to physical durability, tissue regeneration, and pain tolerance.
Effects do not stack when multiple bottles are consumed consecutively.
Warning: consuming more than three bottles within twenty-four hours causes severe overdose, guaranteeing massive internal bleeding, stroke, and myocardial infarction.
Package Restock Timer: 24 hours.
“Wow.”
“They turned a perk from Call of Duty’s zombie mode into an energy drink.”
“Interesting.”
I evaluated the loot.
For me, as an undead creature, and especially one with Bane’s Venom Serum still circulating through my blood, this was practically useless.
But for potential allies, ordinary fighters, or cannon fodder that I needed to buff before throwing them into some massive battle?
This thing could be invaluable.
Give someone a bottle, and for the next hour they’d become a walking tank.
I mentally registered the box of soda appearing inside my inventory.
Then I focused on the next System notification, which was already unfolding in front of my eyes.
It pulsed with an ominous crimson glow.
There was the price of my productivity.
Warning!
Critical threshold reached: +10 Chaos Tickets activated.
Total: 20
Second Curse acquired!
The next Curse will be acquired after activating another 10 Tickets.