DCU: Blacklist

[Petrox]

Crime Alley citizen will be asked that their shit and any bio trash be used for compost Any use of disposable plastic is prohibited. Customers would need to bring their own containers to shop at supermarket.

 

[ChaosRuneSmith]

Taking the file, the first thing that caught his eyes was the pink hair.

"I wonder what he is doing here?"

Click to shrink...

Manchester Black? Don't know of anyone else who might fit the description of male with pink hair. But I am admittedly not the most knowledgeable on DC characters.

 

[Bev]

Manchester Black? Don't know of anyone else who might fit the description of male with pink hair. But I am admittedly not the most knowledgeable on DC characters.

Click to shrink...

If it is, I look forwards to see him being humbled by Miles.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Thanks for the chapter

 

[Mesa_Ex_Machina]

Manchester Black? Don't know of anyone else who might fit the description of male with pink hair. But I am admittedly not the most knowledgeable on DC characters.

Click to shrink...

Look it up Manchester's hair is mostly shown as a purplish color.

 

[RamiroGalletti]

Male & pink hair, i am guessing is not the transgender niece of talia al ghul, nor Jonathan kent's boyfriend...
Eduardo flamingo? (Cannibal supervillain with acrobatics abilities that got hired by clue master)

 

[Samael61]

Hello there,

If you enjoy my stories you can read advanced chapters in my patreon page

Her Eternal Excellency, a Genshin Impact and ASOIAF crossover, Raiden Ei Reborn as Argella Durrandon, is 15 chapters ahead

DCU:Blacklist, a Raymond Reddington inspired OC SI using his knowledge for his own advantage, as well as the rest of the world, is 15 chapters ahead,

Geek's Guide to Thriving in a Low End Fantasy World, a Robert Baratheon OC SI in an AU, is 15 chapters ahead,

Commander Shepard, The Greatest to Ever Live, a Mass Effect story where Shepard is greater than ever, is 15 chapters ahead,

Loki: The God of Magic , an OC-SI into Loki who is not aware of the MCU, is 7 chapters ahead.

You can also check my original story, Arrival, on my Patreon page, AO3, Royal Road, SpaceBattles, and Webnovel.

By supporting me, you can read advanced and special chapters, as well as vote on how you want the fanfiction to proceed.


Note: Apple store payments will be refunded, because of the company's 75 day hold policy.

—
​

Metropolis

"We need to stop taking on any more new projects for now, unless we expand our operations. With the Thanagarians, the work on Gotham, cleaning the pollution, the weather control device, and Victor's research, we are taxed to the brim." Mary requested her boss to stop after careful consideration.

Expanding the scope of their business was certainly possible, but it would take time, and she could not be in two places at once.

"I'll leave that to your judgment. If you believe expanding is good now, do it; if not, I'll stop bringing new projects."

"Thank you."

—
​

"Sir, we are circulating Roland Dagget's fortune through the financial system now. It should be at your service in a week, though, in smaller amounts first." Not as rich as Batman, but definitely richer than Black Mask, Roland's wealth was quickly whisked away.

"Well done, Saul. Have the money wired to the account I am sending you." It was the account EnviroCorps used to fund the rebuilding efforts in Crime Alley.

"Poetic justice at its finest. We take Roland's wealth and use it to repair the damage he did to Gotham."

"All the while Roland himself has no idea how his empire came crashing down." Miles smiled. Roland had claimed he did not remember anything after the attack except the face of a monster.

The judge had not found it funny.

—
​

"Take a seat."

"Thank you."

"Caesar Polansky, 28, a metahuman whose power is magnetism, kind of?" James, the head of HR in the EnviroCorps, read the CV in his hands. The man before him did not seem entirely sure of his powers, which did not look good for his prospects.

His suit was shabby, which meant Caesar Polansky was in a financially difficult period in his life.

"Can you demonstrate it for us, please?" Mary, who had decided to partake in today's interviews, requested, taking out several metal balls from the display cabinet behind her.

"Of course." Caesar easily lifted the metal balls, twirling them around the room.

"Can you differentiate the metals?" Because half of the balls were non-magnetic, and as the expert in metahuman powers, Paul did come across several cases where the metahuman did not know the full extent of their powers.

Caesar pointed to James. "Yes, I can even tell that he has metal in his hip, but I'm not sure what it is, though; definitely not iron or gold."

"Gold is not magnetic, and neither is the platinum in my hip replacement. I think this is what you meant by kind of." So not only magnetism, but also control over non-magnetic metals as well.

"I never could use my powers because of fear and didn't really know what to call it."

"Well, how about we start you in recycling first while testing the extent of your powers? If you can detect rare metals like gold, platinum, and more, then we can move you to a higher-paying position. For now, your salary will be two thousand dollars a month, plus a bonus equal to five percent of the valuable metals you recycle. Upon promotion, your salary will be renegotiated." Depending on the tests, if Caesar Polansky's detection range over the metals was large enough, he could potentially detect metal deposits without the usual expensive tests.

Caesar would have to go through a probation period and fill up a certain quota if he was accepted, but for now, the job was his.

—
​

"Caitlyn Vinstor, metahuman power is color control." Not the most impressive power they had seen today, but not the plainest one either.

"I can change the color of almost anything and make solid objects invisible."

"Invisible?"

"Like this." To demonstrate, Caitlyn took the pen on the desk, and it shimmered in her hands before disappearing. Taking the now invisible pen by feeling it, Mary began to think of the possibilities.

"Have you considered the fashion industry?" Their new employees could not be entrusted with much more secretive and lucrative projects before proving they were loyal, but if Caitlyn's powers could be replicated, it could open the way for a new kind of stealth.

"I did, but people are terrified of my abilities, so here I am." Her case wasn't the only one, which went to prove that hiring metahumans was a brilliant idea.

"I think we can start you in the fashion industry, and perhaps in more technological areas later on."

"At this point, I'll sign up to entertain children." Caitlyn said, and they began to discuss salary.

—
​

"Steven Kenberg, metahuman power: Acid Generation."

"Michelle Deborah, metahuman power: Accelerated Healing."

"Robert Manel, metahuman power: Earth Manipulation."

"Sarah Deshawn, metahuman power: Dream Projection."

"Thomas Strong, metahuman power: Super Strength."

"Manchester Black, metahuman power: telekinesis. He has a previous criminal record."

—
​

"Miles, I believe it is for the best that you handle this yourself." Mary-Anne handed him one of the dossiers. Something about it had bothered her, and she thought it best if someone more capable handled it.

Taking the file, the first thing that caught his eye was the purple hair.

"I wonder what he is doing here?"

—
​

"Manchester Black, color me surprised that you of all people would apply for an office job." Manchester Black, a potent telepath and telekinetic, is a traumatized, cynical powerhouse hellbent on enforcing his vision of justice.

Though, this one looked really young, so perhaps he hadn't decided to become a big-time vigilante.

With a trench coat, a shirt with the British flag on it, and the signature purple hair, this man was a rather dangerous metahuman.

"I need money, mate, and it doesn't grow on trees. Though, how the bloody hell do you know me?" His stance became more aggressive, and Claire lowered her hands to her sides.

Miles had informed her that this British guy was a pretty strong telepath and to not hold back if he turned antagonistic.

"I know a variety of people worth keeping an eye on." Manchester gazed at Miles really intensely, and he felt a tingle on his forehead.

"Don't bother; you can't read my mind." Madame Xanadu's charm was heating up beneath his shirt, doing its job to protect him and Claire from telepathy.

Manchester leaned back on his chair, raising his guard. This had just become more than a simple job interview. "Bollocks."

"I'll admit, I actually was considering finding a telepath, and I believe you might just be the man for the job." Torturing people for information was inefficient in a world of metahumans who could read minds.

"What kind of a job?" Manchester knew something shady was going on, but he couldn't read the guy's mind, and other high-ranking workers stayed out of his way.

"A job where you help me put villains behind bars."

"Wonderful. Another superhero in tights." Manchester crossed his arms, cursing his luck.

"Now, now, tights aren't my style. But I wager I can pay you enough for you to put your hatred aside." Manchester was here for money, and money Miles could give.

A lot of it, in fact.

"I am listening."

"Two hundred fifty thousand dollars a year, with another two hundred and fifty thousand right now as a signing bonus. I need someone that can extract information from the criminals, not madmen like Joker, but actual criminals who do not flaunt their deeds in open daylight." With his abusive parents and cynical look at justice, merely helping the law enforcement imprison criminals was not something that would have interested Manchester.

The quarter of a million dollars, on the other hand, did.

"However, no going around enforcing your brand of justice; I can't have you thrown in jail by the Justice League. Work with me, and you'll get to make all the difference you want, without being branded as a villain." Perhaps Manchester could be converted to his side, perhaps not, but if his need for cash was urgent enough, he would apply to EnviroCorps, and then he could be bought.

"Alright, mate, I'll take it, but I need help with something." Manchester looked anxious now, a man capable of uncovering the deepest, darkest secrets of a person, yet he was incapable of hiding his feelings.

Manchester did not have many people or matters to care for, so this must be about one of the few things he did. "If it's within my power."

"My sister, she was in an accident. She needs urgent care." Ah, Vera Black, perhaps the only person Manchester cared for.

How that happened, Miles was curious.

"Not an issue. May I ask how it happened?"

"No." The telepath closed up, and Miles did not press further.

He would learn it through other means.

"Welcome aboard, Manchester." Miles held out his hand to seal the deal, and Manchester took it but didn't let go before warning him.

"Right then, but I am watching you, mate."

—
​

"Ma'am, is it just me, or is the management offering salaries that are way outside the norms?" These new employees would definitely be earning more than James, not that he was complaining.

"That's because we are buying loyalty, and if this works according to the projections? The returns could be exponential."

What was spending a couple million dollars a year when it could earn them billions?

—
​

The first responses to the hiring mania of EnviroCorps were not positive. It looked too good to be true, as if it were a jar of honey laced with poison, but metahumans desperate for a job applied without a second thought.

News spread, and suddenly, applications came pouring in, requiring multiple teams to interview the potential employees after their background was checked.

—
​

Manchester had been stealing money left and right to fund his sister's hospital expenses, but the United States health system was taking what he managed to find like a black hole tearing a planet apart.

He bought a private hospital, because you can never go wrong with having one, and had Vera Black moved there, ensuring that the doctors gave her round-the-clock care.

"Here, an apartment just across from the hospital, and your papers. As I said before, keep your head down, and don't use your powers unless it's a matter of life or death."

"Bloody hell, I get it."

—
​

"I tracked that girl's trail, and it turns out Ronald Daggett's convoy injured her while running from you. Her hospital expenses are pretty high."

"Thank you, Zalika."

"So it's your fault in a way." Claire grinned at Miles.

It was for the best if Manchester did not learn this.

"Merely an unseen bump on the road."

—
​

Baraka was in the hospital.

Why?

He had seen several shady individuals trying to convince an acquaintance to use something and intervened.

Turns out, they were selling drugs and had beaten up Baraka for showing his nose where it didn't belong.

Their words, not his.

A bleeding nose, several bruises, and a small fracture in his arm from protecting his ribs had landed Baraka in the hospital, with Zalika fussing over him like a mother hen.

Having moved him to the private hospital he had just bought, Miles had just found those gentlemen who attacked his charge for a small chat.

"Please, stop, no more." One of the goons begged as the mercenary dressed in black from head to toe continued to beat him with a baseball bat.

The other three were already unconscious, tied to the beams at the ceiling by their hands.

"That's enough."

"Yes, sir."

"Selling drugs? Don't you know it's illegal?" Miles asked, and the man whimpered, blood dripping to the ground under him.

"Who are you selling it for?" He might as well deal with this matter entirely.

The dealer spat out the blood in his mouth before speaking. "For ourselves."

"My scientists tell me it's synthetic and nothing like anything else on the market. You don't strike me as scientifically gifted enough to make it."

He had seen their stash and found the drugs' vibrant red color interesting enough to order a test.

This might just be getting into deeper waters.

"Ah well, time for my new employee to start his shift."

—
​

"Why the bloody hell did I have to wear this?" Manchester, who had been brought in to extract whatever the dealers knew, was forced to dress in a helmet and armor to hide his identity.

"You are a young British man with purple hair and rather distinctive features. Do you want criminals to know who you are and investigate you?" Had he been alone, Miles would not have seen these precautions as necessary.

The boxes in the depot started floating and were crushed by an invisible force. "Let them try."

Holding his hand out for the men to stand down, Miles put his hand around Manchester's neck, bringing him closer.

"And you, sister? Do you want to put her at risk?"

"Git." The telepath scoffed, and Miles let go.

He understood the point now.

"They are selling the drugs for a guy, Cedric Anler, down in the docks. Blonde, blue eyes, looks like your classic goody little two shoes."

The name wasn't familiar to Miles, which meant either he was someone too bland to be included in the grand fight against evil or he just worked for an individual who was.

—
​

Amusingly enough, Cedric was the counselor for a small Alcoholics Anonymous group.

A simple message from the dealers, saying that their stash was sold and the money was ready, had Cedric meet them in a predetermined location.

Rather than a small fortune, he had found several guns aimed at his head.

"Cedric Anler. I have to say, the hypocrisy of your act is impressive. Tell me, do you convince the alcoholics to stop drinking by having them start on drugs?" Miles asked, and Cedric just seemed angry at being caught.

"Fuck off, you don't know who you are messing with." Either he was posturing, or he actually had proper backing to threaten him.

Miles opened his arms to the side, as if inviting Cedric to speak. "Here is your sole chance to enlighten me voluntarily."

When no words came from him, Miles snapped his fingers. "No? Very well."

The last thing Cedric saw was the stock of an assault rifle.

—
​

"Who the hell is Morgan Edge?" Claire asked after Manchester relayed to them everything inside Cedric's head.

He was taking the drug from a friend of his, who was working directly for one Morgan Edge, to sell and bring back the profit, taking a small cut along the way.

"The CEO of Galaxy Communications and the leader of Intergang." Even the British present knew the Intergang and cursed.

"Those guys with alien tech?"

"Yes, this just became a problem." The Intergang did partake in selling drugs, and if the tendril of this filth reached Vincent, then it was a legitimate threat.

Claire raised her hands, ready to burn down the stash of drugs, totaling at least a couple of million dollars. "Let's go and do what you do best: bring bastards like him down."

"And preferably take a good chunk of the Intergang out." He had not planned to cross paths with them this early, but it was best to strangle them at birth.

—
​

Notes: In the preview part of Chapter 43, I made a mistake, writing "pink" rather than "purple" regarding the hair color. I fixed that part now, and I apologize for the confusion.

In the next chapter:

The red, synthetic product Miles had discovered was a new drug meant to activate latent metahuman genes, but it had fatal side effects, and several users had already died.

How did he figure that out, you might ask.

One of the consumers, a man in his thirties, had suddenly gained the ability to grow spikes all over his body before the drug overloaded his system, and the recently acquired meta powers turned him into a pincushion.

That could have been a random event, but another had blown up like a balloon before his insides covered the pavement, and the less said about the woman who gained the pyrokinesis, the better.

Burning the stash found with Cedric Anler had slowed the distribution of the crimson dust, but it was not enough.



Curious about the next chapter? Please consider supporting me on Patreon.

 

[FTR2017]

You see kids? Cool guys don't do drugs, those that do get power surged to death!

 

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[Saethyr]

You see kids? Cool guys don't do drugs, those that do get power surged to death!

Click to shrink...

Snowflame.

 

[FTR2017]

Snowflame.

Click to shrink...

Snowflame is as far from cool as one can get.

What he is, however? He's an epic memetic character!

 

[chaiMat]

Snowflame is as far from cool as one can get.

What he is, however? He's an epic memetic character!

Click to shrink...

Behold, the comic book author's self-insert:

 

[Samael61]

Hello there,

If you enjoy my stories, you can read advanced chapters on my patreon page

Her Eternal Excellency, a Genshin Impact and ASOIAF crossover, Raiden Ei Reborn as Argella Durrandon, is 15 chapters ahead

DCU:Blacklist, a Raymond Reddington-inspired OC SI using his knowledge for his own advantage, as well as the rest of the world, is 15 chapters ahead,

Geek's Guide to Thriving in a Low-End Fantasy World, a Robert Baratheon OC SI in an AU, is 15 chapters ahead,

Commander Shepard, The Greatest to Ever Live, a Mass Effect story where Shepard is greater than ever, is 15 chapters ahead,

Loki: The God of Magic , an OC-SI into Loki who is not aware of the MCU, is 8 chapters ahead.

If you enjoy sci-fi, action, politics, romance with an overpowered protagonist, you can check Arrival, my original story on my Patreon or my pages on the fanfiction sites. I intend to make this a long term project, if you wish to be with me in this journey from the very start, now is the time. Your review and likes are appreciated to keep up with the algorithm.

By supporting me, you can read advanced and special chapters, as well as vote on how you want the fanfiction to proceed.


Note: Apple store payments will be refunded because of the company's 75-day hold policy.

—
​

Metropolis

The red, synthetic product Miles had discovered was a new drug meant to activate latent metahuman genes, but it had fatal side effects, and several users had already died.

How did he figure that out, you might ask.

One of the consumers, a man in his thirties, had suddenly gained the ability to grow spikes all over his body before the drug overloaded his system, and the recently acquired meta powers turned him into a pincushion.

That could have been a random event, but another had blown up like a balloon before his insides covered the pavement, and the less said about the woman who gained the pyrokinesis, the better.

Burning the stash found with Cedric Anler had slowed the distribution of the crimson dust, but it was not enough.

Catching Morgan Edge red-handed to stop this drug before it hits the market in full force would not only prune a branch of financial gain that Intergang could have but also put a damper on their metahuman trafficking business.

Additionally, there was a good chance his media empire could be up for grabs.

But that was for later.

Morgan was extremely cautious, which is why he had not been caught yet, and it would not be easy for Miles to catch someone more entrenched in Metropolis than him committing a crime.

Which is why he had called in the cavalry.

"Question, welcome." The detective that he had quite the interesting adventure with had returned after Miles managed to get a message to him, claiming to have information on one of the most dangerous conspiracies in the world.

Stepping inside the warehouse where they had met, Question took the seat. "Miles. I'll admit, I didn't expect you to call me."

"What do you know about Morgan Edge?" The name alone was enough for Question to realize this was big.

"Billionaire, CEO of Galaxy Communications. Possible leader of Intergang," he summarized Morgan's status in the corporate and crime world, "power hungry, no limits, manipulative." And added his own knowledge on the CEO's personality.

"Why?" Was it related to Intergang? They were active in Metropolis and all over the world.

"He is the leader of Intergang. They are selling a new drug on the streets, meant to activate dormant metahuman genes to find targets for trafficking." Either to send the metahumans to Darkseid's minions for experiments or to weaponize them.

A metahuman trafficking operation? Last time the two had stumbled on a human trafficking case, it did not end well. "To where?"

"Apokolips, the world of Darkseid, the God of Tyranny. He is evil personified."

"You are joking, right?" The question dealt with humans, with their schemes, cults, plans, and behind-the-scenes acts.

Not some evil god in a world he had never heard of before.

Miles waved his concerns away. "I called you, not to fight Darkseid, but to catch Morgan Edge in the act and strike a blow to Intergang, one they cannot recover from, before bringing the proverbial boot down on them."

Which was the exact kind of thing Question strived to do. "That, I can do."

"I knew this matter would interest you."

"What is the plan?" This time, Miles had the initiative, but it wasn't aimed at him.

So there's no need to worry about a potential retaliation for Vic's little trick in getting Miles arrested.

For now, anyway.

"Morgan is holding a charity event for his facade. Getting inside his home is a simple matter of money." Invitations to the event could be bought with a phone call.

Considering all he knew of Morgan Edge, Question knew they wouldn't find any evidence linking the media mogul to Intergang. "There is unlikely to be any evidence in his home. Morgan is not that stupid."

"Which is why we are going to kidnap and interrogate him for everything related to Intergang."

—
​

Question was skeptical, but as the plan was detailed, he did agree to it. They would kidnap Morgan after the event was over, using the opportunity to scout out his defenses. His home's size was proportional to his wealth, which meant they had to be very thorough to avoid detection.

Miles and Claire, after a bit of makeup, would go in as a couple, with Raven as their adopted child, who would open a portal inside the house later.

He was Orlando Larson, a high-level executive in a Hong Kong-based investment firm, and Claire was his yoga instructor wife, Katheryn Larson.

Question would infiltrate the kitchen as part of the catering company hired for the occasion, disguised as a random civilian that landed the job recently.

—
​

Convincing the manager of the catering to hire Victor a couple days before the great event was child's play. The woman was in a bitter legal battle over the custody of her son with the father, and seeing as her ex-husband only wanted the custody to hurt her, Miles did not feel a shred of regret at releasing those rather explicit photos, ruining a life.

Jean was grateful enough to hire Victor on the spot, knowing it would be in her best interest to not ask why a man with Miles' connections would bother going to these lengths just so she could hire another man.

Question took to his role like a duck to water, and soon enough, it was time for action.

—
​

Edge Manor

"Invitation letter, please." The concierge at the gates requested it, and Miles handed over the piece of paper he had spent a considerable sum to acquire, which all would be directed to charity.

Sure.

"Welcome, please enjoy yourselves, Mr. Larson, and your wife and daughter too."

"I am sure we will."

After a quick scan for weapons or other banned items, they were allowed in. The party was in full swing, with several notable figures mingling together.

"In position. Cameras at every corner. Motion and heat sensors near the doors, deactivated for the party. Upstairs is a no-go. Armed guards, too much security. The security room is there, at the end of the hallway." Question's voice rang clear through the special comms.

"Noted." Miles whispered to his communicator. Question was putting them to shame, and he needed to up his game.

Morgan Edge, their host, came down the stairs from the second floor. Everything about him screamed perfection, not that he was perfect, but that he was trying so hard to obtain it. His hair, clothes, and even smile were all the result of several hours of work, yet Morgan's very nature as a sleazy scumbag shadowed it all.

If you were observant enough to see it.

"Welcome, distinguished guests, to the Edge family's annual charity function. It is my pleasure to host you once more. We have old faces who have been supporting this charity drive for years and new faces that I hope will be old ones in time. Without taking any more of your time, enjoy yourselves." Morgan greeted the guests before coming down to speak to some fund manager.

There was a light, refined applause, and the banquet continued.

"You know, you look like a drug dealer in that disguise." Claire nudged Miles, mentioning his blonde goatee, meant to cover his clean-shaven face.

"What?"

"Yeah, as if you are about to go to your secret lab to cook drugs." Miles blinked.

Had Claire just made a Breaking Bad reference in a universe where the show didn't exist?

Huh.

"I am more prone to cooking justice."

"Dad, I need to use the bathroom…" Raven spoke, breaking the two out of their banter.

It was her code for being ready to infiltrate the security room, plant the remote access port, and return.

Camera, lights, action.

"Dear, can you take her, please?"

Claire held her adopted daughter's hand, following the signs to the bathroom. "Come on, Rachel, I think it was this way."

"What a bright night. You can see all the stars." Miles muttered to himself, rubbing his chin in appreciation.

For anyone watching him, he was just enjoying the night sky, while in truth, he had discreetly informed Question that Raven was on her way.

A voice, belonging to a man Miles would no doubt meet, called out to him. "Mr. Larson, right? It is rare to see someone from Hong Kong join our little get-together."

Miles took Morgan's hand, playing the perfect guest. "Thank you, Mr. Edge, and please, call me Orlando. My daughter wished to see the city of tomorrow, and I had a business meeting. When I heard the news of your charity banquet, I thought I could do some good for the world before leaving this wonderful city."

His words had Morgan in smiles, but unknown to Darkseid's little minion, Miles knew he was lying.

Morgan, while naturally suspicious of anyone new, did not enjoy the same advantage.

"A man after my heart. Where are your daughter and wife, if I may ask?" Morgan made a show of looking around, but Miles pointed at the hallway to the bathrooms.

"Just went to the bathroom. You know how children are, no impulse control at all."

Handing Miles a drink from the table, Morgan raised his champagne. "It is such a pleasure to meet you, and I hope you will join us next year. And before I forget, please, call me Morgan."

"The pleasure's all mine." Miles touched his glass to Morgan's and sipped half the glass before his target left.

Ugh, he would need to eat something to get this taste out of his mouth.

—
​

Several minutes later, too long to be a bathroom break unless there was an emergency, Claire and Rave returned. "There you two are. Was there a problem?" He asked, playing the concerned husband and father.

"Nothing, dear, I was just fixing my makeup." Meaning there was trouble.

Miles showed the two the food on his plate. "Come on, I found this delicious poached shrimp."

"What happened?" Miles asked as the three of them filled their plates, backs to the cameras, front and sides blocked by the food.

Raven, still focused ahead, reported. "There was a woman in the security room. Red-haired, glowing eyes, dressed in a cape and one-piece bodysuit. Looked like a vampire, actually."

There was one female in Intergang that fit the description perfectly. "Bloody Mary. Did she detect you?"

"No, but she must have felt something was wrong." The damn woman came eerily close to the shadows Raven was hiding in, sniffing like a bloodhound, but eventually left when called elsewhere.

Taking a napkin, Miles wiped his lips thoroughly. "Morgan has an enforcer. Red-haired femme fatale, be extremely cautious; she is from Apokolips, part of an elite unit." He whispered into the comms.

"I saw her before. I'll be careful."

"The port is in place. What about on your end?" Question's sole job wasn't to just infiltrate the manor after all.

"I left your little surprise in the electric panel and disabled the emergency generator." Detective or not, Question must have had training from ninjas.

"Then let's just play our parts, make a donation, and get the hell out."

Of course, things could never be that simple.

—
​

Everything was moving according to the plan, and the guests had started making their donations when the Metropolis Police Department paid a visit to the charity event.

With an arrest warrant for one of Morgan's men, on the charges of assault on a police officer. Even with his influence and wealth, the cops were not placated when it was one of their own taken to the ER.

It soured the otherwise excellent party.

Morgan gave a speech, apologizing but not truly, and continued the event by doubling his original donation to give the guests something new to think about.

"There is a problem. That woman is sniffing around the kitchen."

"Get yourself out of there. Act like you are bringing me something."

"One piña colada coming up."

Question did not break his pace, as it would draw too much attention, and brought Miles his drink.

"Here is your drink, sir."

Reaching for the glass without looking, Miles knocked it over, right on the poor server's pristine suit, and shattered the glass.

It wasn't loud enough to draw any attention, but they were watched nonetheless. Apologizing furiously for his clumsiness, Orlando helped the server clean the broken glass pieces before Bennet left for the company vehicles outside to change his suit.

Bloody Mary, having changed her clothes to blend in, seemed to be searching for someone as she entered the main hall.

Good thing Question was already out.

"Orlando, my good man, what will be your donation tonight?"

"There are so many generous people here that I could not help but be moved. Two million dollars."

—
​

His donation was serious but not extreme. Good enough to blend in, but not enough to draw undue attention.

Orlando Larson was just one more face in the crowd to Morgan now.

The farewell speech was longer than the welcome speech their host had given, but two hours before midnight, the guests began to leave.

The Larson family wasn't the first, but they weren't the last ones to leave either. Their limo was at the ready, with Question at the wheel, and they left the scene without being discovered.

—
​

"This went better than I expected." Question said. That red-haired woman had an unnatural ability to track them, and he knew any longer inside the mansion, she would have done something.

Miles couldn't agree more. Even with the unexpected visit from the MPD, the plan had gone almost flawlessly. "Yes, now we just need to nab Morgan and learn everything he knows."

"How are you going to make him talk?" If he were such a zealot, Morgan would rather die than talk.

Question wouldn't be sad over it, but Intergang would still exist without him.

"I have a telepath." Victor would deduce it anyway; there's no need to hide Manchester's existence.

"Who?"

The telepath's identity, on the other hand, was not for him to reveal. "Ask him if you want to know."

"A telepath is a good idea, but it won't hold in court. We need tangible evidence." Claire stopped, confused at her words.

Since when did she care about the courts?

"I am sure we can find something inside Morgan's head that would lead us to enough evidence."

—
​

His next step was to inform the Justice League, specifically Superman, about his plan to reveal Morgan Edge's crimes and the possible retaliation from Intergang.

Last time, he had not informed them until the last second, not believing it was necessary, only for over a thousand people to die.

Miles had learned his lesson.

Superman had decided to increase his patrols while the operation against Intergang continued. Thankfully, with his adopted cousin there to help him, Superman's work had become much easier.

The rest of the League were on standby, with the androids and the Martian Manhunter monitoring the known channels to be ready in case Intergang decided to come out in force.

Regardless of all the possibilities, the plan was moving forward without a hiccup.

—
​

In the next chapter:

"What the hell are you getting me into?" Reading memories did not evoke any feelings in Manchester, but what he had just seen sent shivers down his spine.

"What happened?"

The telepath took the helmet off, not in the mood for any secrecy, and began to massage his scalp. "Big guy, dark, red eyes, scary as hell. Bollocks, just seeing the memory is bad enough."



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[Petrox]

"Apokolips, the world of Darkseid, the God of Tyranny. He is evil personified."

"You are joking, right?" The question dealt with humans, with their schemes, cults, plans, and behind-the-scenes acts.

Not some evil god in a world he had never heard of before.

Click to shrink...

He already saw Trigon. It should become just a tuesday, eventually.

Dealing with Intergang should be treated like global terrorist threat and any illegal means to capture them should be permitted.

 

[FTR2017]

So, Morgan Edge is a true sellout to Darkseid.

Methinks having his legacy tarnished by breaking his neck falling down the stairs like that Amazo SI did to his Luthor would befit this mangy bastard.

 

[Lillie Jones]

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