I pulled the IVs out, switched off the monitors, and unplugged the last cord from my chest before sitting up.
Idle Transfiguration.
The technique echoed in my mind. It had turned man to woman, old to new. Human… to sorcerer.
Was that where Shelim came from? Where I came from?
Was I born a sorcerer—or did Tyler, my father, change me?
I already knew the answer.
The system was the farthest thing from organic. And I knew exactly why he gave it to me.
It was because of her… the sorcerer my father made.
She was wrong. I'd felt it in his memories, in his words, in the way his demeanor changed.
In the first memory, he was already beginning to fear her.
And she likely killed him.
Cursed energy burst out of me—malevolent, thick, oppressive.
Notifications flashed in the corner of my vision, but I ignored them.
I wanted to sit in the rage. Stew in it.
The comments Batman, Gordon, and Robin made were nothing compared to the memories, but they carried a similar weight.
Was that what they really thought of me?
A fallen hero?
Even Robin mourned me like he knew me. Like he liked me.
Batman was no different.
But I knew the truth.
They used me… just like I planned to use them.
But somewhere along the way, I let them infect me with their philosophy.
Let my hands be tied.
Let my dreams take a backseat to their idealistic vision for the city.
But this crusade was never about Gotham.
I wasn't a hero. Or a villain.
This was always about Black Mask.
Weakening him.
Killing him.
Avenging Eddie.
They got what they wanted.
It was time I got mine.
I stood, cursed energy stabilizing, and opened my status.
+4 Strength
+4 Agility
+2 Endurance
+4 Perception
+10 Vitality
+8 Cursed Energy
You've reached Level 10
+1 to all stats
+2 free points
You've reached Level 11
+8 free points
+5 to Cursed Energy
Congratulations! You've learned:
Binding Vow Lv 1
Reverse Cursed Technique Lv 1
Inverse has reached Lv 4
Swordsmanship has reached Lv 4
Cursed Energy Reinforcement has reached Lv 5
Cursed Energy Manipulation has reached Lv 5
Curtain has reached Lv 5
Hand-to-Hand Combat has reached Lv 5
New Title Unlocked: Julius the Immortal
Survive an attack that should have killed you and live to brag about it. +20% to all regeneration.
Class: Sorcerer – Level 11 (2nd Grade)
Titles: Touched by the Sparks of Black
Techniques: Inverse Lv 4
Health: 670 / 670
Cursed Energy: 760 / 760
Stamina: 560 / 560
Stats:
STR: 50 AGI: 54
PER: 54 VIT: 67
END: 56 CP: 76
Skills:
Cursed Inventory Lv 7
Hand-to-Hand Combat Lv 5
Cursed Energy Manipulation Lv 5
Cursed Energy Reinforcement Lv 5
- Current Boost: 170%
- Passive Boost: 50%
- Drain: 1.8 CE/s
Overcharge:
Temporarily increase reinforcement to specific body parts by drawing cursed energy from others, leaving them vulnerable.
- Current Boost: +80%
- Effect: -80% global reinforcement effectiveness
- Cost: 17 CE per Overcharge
Stealth Lv 5
Curtain Lv 5
Gun Mastery Lv 5
Acrobatics Lv 4
Swordsmanship Lv 4
Binding Vow Lv 1
A high-risk, high-reward pact with Jujutsu that creates conditions for oneself or forms agreements with others.
Reverse Cursed Technique Lv 1
Precisely multiply cursed energy to create positive energy. Can be used to regenerate the human body in all respects.
- Current Output: Low
- Cost: 50 CE per second of healing
Free Points: 10
I took a deep breath and rolled my neck.
I felt like a million bucks.
Getting out of the hospital was easy under Curtain's protection. So was retrieving what was left of my clothes. My boots survived. So did my black shirt.
No sign of my sword.
Shame.
But I couldn't exactly expect Batman to leave it lying around.
The trek from the hospital was smoother than expected. I dodged cameras, spotted them miles away, and blended into the shadows, reappearing long enough to steal a bike.
I gunned it toward Black Mask's mansion.
Black Mask wasn't a hard man to find.
He was either at his business or at home—and since it was the middle of the night, his mansion was a safe bet.
What I didn't expect was the explosion that rocked the mansion as I reached the front gates.
Glass shattered from the third-story window, and bodies flew out.
Bloodied men hit the ground, their bodies cleaved down the middle like butchered meat.
I slipped on a wooden mask and black gloves, then leapt the fence in one bound.
I landed next to a corpse and scanned it—half-curious, half-concerned.
Things just got a lot more complicated.
I summoned my knuckle dusters and sprinted through the manicured garden on the property.
Kicking the double door open, I found a room full of masked men, guns pointed at the stairwell leading up to the second floor, shivering.
A beat passed.
Then a gun finally swiveled toward me.
I threw a knife into the gunman's forearm before he could aim at me. A burst of cursed energy carried me across the room—I shattered his mask with a punch, knocking him out cold.
Before he even hit the ground, I grabbed his body and swung it into another group as they opened fire.
I charged the other men in the room, returning fire with my own pistol.
I winged some, kneecapped others, then dropped the stragglers with punches, before turning to the recovering group and repeating the same pattern.
The massacre continued as I darted upstairs. Some fought, but most screamed and fled, more afraid of whatever was on the third floor than the masked fighter ripping through their boss's mansion.
"Get out of the way!" one yelled, swinging a machete.
I caught his arm, swept his leg, and slammed him into the floor.
He coughed blood. "Y-You need to run. The rumors... they're true. He has a demon protecting him!"
"Who?" I dragged him close, already fearing the answer.
"Black Mask," he whispered, pale as snow.
I released him and he scrambled away, leaving his machete behind. I hefted it, less sure of myself than I'd been on the first floor.
The air shifted as I broached the stairwell leading to the third floor. I tasted the blood before I saw it. The stairwell was painted in gore. Shattered, bisected corpses lay scattered, eyes wide with terror.
The air buzzed with a visceral, almost inhuman flavor of cursed energy.
For a moment, I hesitated.
I knew what was waiting for me.
Some warped creation of my father or the pink-haired woman.
I swallowed, my grip on the machete tightening.
I'd just woken up. Just hit Second Grade.
The smarter move was to back off. Regroup. Grow.
But the thought of delaying Black Mask's death—letting him keep hunting me and my family—snapped growing fear in half.
I advanced up the bloody stairwell and arrived at a decimated hallway.
Scratch marks tore through wood and plaster. Bodies stacked like meat.
And at the end of the hall…
Sionas stood there.
Mask in hand, purple cursed energy wafting off it.
A cursed tool of some kind?
Behind him loomed a shadowed monster, seven feet tall with bladed arms and a mask identical to Sionas's.
Strangely, Sionas had almost no discernible cursed energy.
But the creature behind him...
It was strong.
Stronger than anything I'd ever faced. It had nearly twice as much cursed energy as I did, but I wasn't afraid.
Not with my inventory full of grenades and other deadly surprises.
I spun the machete in my grip.
Sionas smiled.
"To think... one phone call two months ago would bring us here," he said, grinning. "I'm glad you survived, Negative. I paid Deathstroke a million to blow your brains out, but he delivered you to me instead. I guess I'm getting my money's worth, one way or the other."
"That cursed spirit can't protect you," I said, my voice hard as steel. "I'm going to rip you limb from limb." I'd waited a long time for this.
"You can see it?" Sionas asked, grin faltering. Then it returned and twisted.
He laughed. "So that's why she gave me the Mask. I always thought the deal was a bit too good..."
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