A Week Later
Just like the sands of time, a week slipped by unnoticed.
Dexoys now found himself in a quaint, two-story house, inhabited by a man who had lost his wife in an accident involving one of Batman's infamous rogues. The man, devastated and broken, spent most of his days drowning in alcohol and depression.
When Dexoys first entered the house, he found him unconscious, surrounded by empty bottles and the pungent stench of stale liquor. A quick probe into his memories revealed the source of his grief. Dexoys, calculating and unbothered, decided he would help the man—if only to secure a place to stay.
With little resistance, Dexoys manipulated the man's mind, altering his memories. The pain of losing his wife was wiped away, replaced with false recollections of an old friendship with Dexoys. In this fabricated history, the man was simply offering his long-time friend a place to stay, free of rent, to repay a long-forgotten debt.
Once the mental reconfiguration was complete, Dexoys set about cleaning the house, accepting it as his new home. Halfway through, he turned on the television, only to see coverage of his battle with Superman.
'It's quite shocking and frightening how fast stuff spreads among the human populace,' he mused.
The broadcast reported that the Justice League had officially branded him a villain and urged the public to call their hotline if he was spotted. What surprised him was how quickly social media had latched onto that label. After all, the only thing he'd done was knock the Man of Steel unconscious.
It confirmed what he had already suspected—Earth was a world quick to judge, slow to understand. The chances of becoming a hero here had dropped dramatically. And yet, Dexoys wasn't interested in being a hero or a villain.
Let them call him what they wanted. He would still save lives—when it truly mattered. Petty crimes like muggings were beneath him. But in situations of life or death, where he could act without drawing attention, he would intervene.
Bank robberies? Let the city's costumed defenders handle those. Unless the world itself was in danger, Dexoys saw no reason to play the hero. That wasn't his burden.
Power—that was his path. If he could become a crime boss, controlling Gotham's underworld, money and influence would be his forever. Such a rise would take time, but he could start small, learning the ins and outs of the criminal world.
He sat up in bed, shaking off his thoughts. The TV stirred in the background as he headed to the bathroom. Even though his body produced no odor, he still enjoyed the calming sensation of a hot shower.
As steam filled the room, a breaking news alert caught his attention.
"Last night," the anchorwoman said, her tone grim, "after the Joker broke out of prison, he went to Commissioner Gordon's home and shot his daughter, Barbara Gordon. Leaving the girl for dead, he kidnapped the commissioner. Only a Joker card was left at the scene."
The story stirred something in him. It felt familiar, like a scene from a dream—or perhaps a memory from his past life. However, confirming that now was impossible.
What also caught his attention wasn't the tragedy itself, but the implications. Batman would be consumed by the hunt for Joker, reducing the risk of Dexoys being discovered. It was a rare window of opportunity.
'Should I use this time to explore the underworld of Gotham?' he thought. 'It might be my best chance if I want to avoid being noticed by Batman…'
He didn't fear the Dark Knight like others in Gotham. But he knew that if Batman identified him, the League would follow. For now, the best strategy was to avoid the spotlight entirely.
He considered finding a job in the underworld—something lucrative, something that could help him build connections. Big names like Black Mask came to mind, but something about him felt… off. Dangerous in a way Dexoys didn't like.
Then there was Penguin.
Oswald Cobblepot, the Penguin, had built an empire of crime in Gotham. Every crook and lowlife passed through his club, either looking for work or information. The best part? Batman couldn't touch him. The Penguin was too careful, too smart to leave a trail.
That fact alone irritated the Dark Knight to no end. But for Dexoys, it presented an opportunity—a foothold into Gotham's underworld.
Why waste away in hiding when the city was ripe for the taking?
Stepping out of the shower, he dried off, dressed, and prepared to leave. As he exited the house and walked toward Penguin's known base of operations, one final thought crossed his mind.
'I wonder how long it'll take the heroes to find out about me…'
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Sorry for the short chapter. I just finished my final exam for the year so I decided to make a quick chapter to show everyone that I'm still here. Right now I'm still a little busy with things but starting next month at the latest I should be back to my regular schedule.
I hope everyone can be patient as I navigate a new chapter of my life. Hope to see you guy's in the next chapter!
Power stones?