Novels2Search

Chapter 1: Into the Shadows.

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"Don't even fucking try to be a hero, just give me the money!" He growled out, flashing a knife at the terrified gas station attendant.

He didn't feel great about it, but in the kind of situation he was in, what else was he to do? He'd scavenged up a ski mask that didn't stink too badly from a dumpster near his run down apartment, and grabbed a kitchen knife to use as a weapon - the basic starter kit for mugging someone or committing a robbery.

He always grabbed something new every time, keeping the same gear or outfit was just a good way to get caught or reported as someone specific. Random low level crime didn't even get investigated half the time, as long as you didn't make yourself stand out above the norm.

It was not the most intimidating get up, but it hid his face, and the weapon was less likely to get him killed, like he was more likely to face if he waved around a gun. Being a six foot five black guy was enough of an intimidation factor on its own usually, that the knife probably wasn't even needed.

The pimple-covered young attendant was shaking in fear, cowering away from him even as she scrambled to do as she'd been asked, her fingers failing thrice to open up the cash register before she finally managed she was shaking that badly.

Really picked the wrong career in Brockton Bay if she was this terrified of a simple robbery, he thought, slightly disgusted at himself for even thinking it, but thats how much Brockton Bay changes you…

He immediately pushed her out of the way, ignoring her whimpering, waving at her to get out, barely paying attention to her running away as he grabbed the money and shoved it into his backpack. He didn't linger long, moving through the back of the gas station, kicking down the door to the back area, finding the small manager's office and taking the few seconds to absolutely ruin the CCTV set up. Never knew what someone could pull off that shit, even though it was unlikely some thinker would be given footage of a small-time robbery.

With the likes of Coil and Tattletale in the bay though, he wasn't taking any chances.

Within three minutes of grabbing the cash, he was out the backdoor and walking down the street, ski mask and knife hidden away inside his backpack to be disposed of in a dumpster far enough away it wouldn't be connected. Over his t-shirt he was now wearing a shabby gray hoodie he hadn't worn for the robbery - having been kept in his backpack - covering him now and making him look different enough to any casual observer. He'd ensured to stay out of Empire territory, hitting a station near the docks, because the odds of a member of Brockton Bay's finest stopping him in the docks was almost nonexistent.

Whereas if he'd pulled this shit near Empire territory, he'd face being stopped even if he was helping elderly women cross the street. In his experience, half the BBPD force in that area was either Nazi sympathizers or outright racists and not afraid to show it to any minority walking around.

He couldn't even blame most of the people that lived under their yoke. Arguably, they were safer and more well taken care off then almost any civilian in the Bay, so it was easy to fall into the propaganda.

He sighed quietly, peering out from under his hoodie, always paying attention to his surroundings with a wary eye. The ABB weren't much better about things then the Empire. Just slightly less likely to want to fuck you up. His size helped there on occasion, but the ABB usually moved in packs, making him wary to be out this late either way.

All it would take was the guys being bored to start an altercation.

The take he took home with his activities were worse in this area, even the small businesses were shabby and half-derelict - and lacking in cash. Not surprisingly being low on cash for exactly the reason he'd just proven - desperate people habitually knocked them over. Yet if he'd move to more affluent areas for his needs, he'd face the risk of Empire retaliation, or actual Protectorate or New Wave heroes jumping him.

He'd prefer the Empire. At least they were honest in how terrible they were. You could say a lot about the bunch of horrible racists, but at least they admitted what they were.

The heroes talked a good talk, but weren't different from most criminals… Only difference was in how they let crime go instead of propagating it, hypocrites the whole bunch, willing to let anything go as long as they looked good in the news.

His fists clenched harshly as he lowered his head, looking away, walking by several ABB goons cornering a young girl near an alley. He hoped for her sanity that they were only out for a spot of fun - and wouldn't be taking her to a brothel. The ABB's ways of breaking their girls was something out of nightmares. He'd unfortunately gotten the whole story there once.

His blood was still boiling every time he saw the punks. But he couldn't afford to make them pay, he had more to think of then himself. If it was only him, he'd be satisfied to go down in a blaze of glory to save the girl, but he couldn't afford to…

He silently said a small prayer for the young girl, closing his eyes in pain as he heard her cry out. I'm lower than fucking dirt. He thought with disgust as he walked away.

Just a normal day in Brockton Bay. Every time he walked by a situation like this, more of him withered and died inside. Every time he mugged some poor bastard, knocked over a gas station or small local business - he felt himself give up just that tiny bit more.

But what could he do? He had no papers, no existence, the heroes had shown their disregard already, he had no avenue forward that would help.

His name was Jordan Michaels, he had no papers for it, but his name was what he'd kept, even through everything. Yeah, three guesses who his father had chosen to name him after… Guess he wasn't going to play for the Bulls anytime soon with professional sports practically eradicated.

He wasn't from around here, and he didn't mean just Brockton Bay… This all had been nothing but a story, fiction, just… Not real. Until Jordan had found himself here, his old world was left behind somehow. He half suspected a Simurgh plot, because why else had this happened? The Travelers had been brought over too right?

Except Jordan wasn't from Aleph like they had been, and he was fairly certain none of the alternate earths had made up stories about Endbringers and Scion and a bug controlling fucked up girl fighting it all.

He walked up to the tenement building where he'd gotten himself an apartment through part time work as muscle for the landlord whenever someone hadn't paid up their rent. In this area papers weren't really something too difficult to get around when it came to living. Most of the shit around here was paid in cash, and Jordan doubted the tax man, let alone any other government official, even dared to show up to the docks - unless they were speaking of the ABB taxman of course.

The problem with papers materialized when it came to getting honest work. When it came to getting medical help, insurance, all the legal shit Jordan just couldn't get.

Hence Jordan ending up being either muscle, or a common robber. He sighed as he noticed the light wasn't working again in the stairwell, some tweaker probably shot them out again. He climbed up steadily trying to not think of the past, his anger, desperation and shame threatening to overwhelm him if he did.

Coming up on his floor, he ignored the tarnished piss yellow wallpaper and the paper thin walls that ensured not much was secret between neighbors, he stomped up to his shithole apartment, fishing for his keys, the door opening just as he finally found them.

Mai, (no last name, don't fucking ask), leaned against the door, clad in a loose tank top and dirty jeans shorts, she gave him a quick once over looking for injuries, pursing her lips, "I guess you didn't fuck up today, huh?"

Jordan's shoulders slumped, one time, one time I show up with a knife in my gut, and I never get to hear the end of it… "Thanks as usual, Mai." He rumbled, letting out a deep sigh as he fished a couple bills out of his backpack, paying his neighbor for her help.

It was necessary and he didn't begrudge her the money, because god, did he ever need her help… But with having to pay protection money, the other half of his rent not covered by his muscle work, medicine and food - he'd need to pull more gigs just to keep his head over water with how things were going.

Mai was 15 going on 60, in a situation almost like his, she was only able to afford staying in her apartment through a 'deal' with the landlord. Jordan studiosly did his best not to think about it too much, because he couldn't afford to lose this place. Which he would if he murdered his landlord.

Unfortunately in this world, fifteen year olds selling themselves for rent wasn't even worth a blip on the radar for law enforcement. Not with the parahuman gangs and other bullshitery going on.

A fifteen year old turning into a lizard, mucho important, a hundred kids selling themselves to be able to eat - nothing to worry about. Fuck he hated this world…

Mai always said she was lucky all in all. The young girl had escaped Lung's brothels alive, having been there since a horrific thirteen years of age, literally sold by her parents so they'd be able to afford protection money for years. A client had ended up scarring her face so badly that she'd been let go, partly for her beauty being marred, but mostly to not risk her around the other girls from what she'd been told, risking them fearing clients enough to try and escape, her injury saving her life and sanity.

The client had lost a lot more for harming Lungs 'product'.

That's what people were in most areas of Brockton Bay. Products… Things… None of us were worthy of help from the shiny heroes.

Jordan met Mai's eyes, the jade green cold eyes that looked so out of place on such a young, slim girl. The chill in them turned her features harsher, especially as she usually wore a scowl to add to the harshness. She was exotically beautiful, except for the whole right side of her face being a mess of criss-crossing scars and burns. Sometimes she'd say with dark humor that she'd have an easier life if the client had scarred both sides of her face, detracting fully from her beauty.

Jordan hated that she was actually right in such dark thoughts. Although on the flip side, maybe she would be homeless instead in that case… They had only bad choices to pick from in the end.

"I really mean it Mai, thank you." Jordan said, not letting his gaze slip from her eyes as he handed her a couple 20s. He always imagined he saw some softening in her eyes at times, but it was so brief it could be imagined or wishful thinking.

Mai snorted, taking the money and slipping it into the waistband of her shorts, slipping out of the door, brushing up against him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss the bottom of his jaw. "You're too fucking nice for this place." She said harshly, slipping away down the hallway, that sentiment was also one she oft repeated. Mai following the principle of everyone was a no good bastard. Which begged the question of why she ever bothered helping him out.

He didn't pay nearly enough for what she did. Couldn't afford to.

"You had chicken in your shitty fridge, and I was bored, so I made you some chicken karaage, fucking eat it, you'll help no one starving yourself." She called out, before she disappeared into her own apartment.

Jordan knew it was almost time for her rent payment, the 1st of the month coming up, knew what he'd have to hear through the thin walls.

Jordan breathed in heavily, shaking his head, the lingering touch of the kiss just reminding him of a better world, a soft feeling he couldn't afford, not in this hell. Without further thought on his neighbor - because only rage and death laid that way, he entered his shitty apartment - the smell of the Japanese fried chicken actually beating out the smell of mold and decay, which was a nice change to come home to.

"I'm home." He said softly, even knowing it was basically pointless. He ignored the food Mai had prepared, heading straight for the bedroom.

On the bed, laid his 10 year old sister Jana. They'd recently celebrated their one year anniversary of arriving here… Not that there was anything to celebrate.

He didn't know how they'd arrived in this world, how they were both here, why they were. But he cursed it all the same, like he did everyday, as he sat down heavily next to the bed, his large hand gently grasping her unmoving one.

They'd arrived in the worst kind of circumstance, both of them having been sleeping peacefully at home, on their world - only to wake up to their house, a different house, crushing them, suddenly on Earth Bet - caught in the middle of the Protectorate fighting Lung.

He'd triggered then and there. He snorted to himself, anger flaring briefly, how useless, he thought. As far as he could tell, he'd received no actual power, he hadn't found any no matter what he did since. He even remembered the fucking alien bullshit from his trigger event somehow, that's how he knew it happened, but he had nothing to show for it.

He'd had to dig his sister out of the rubble once his mind recovered from the confusion, the so-called heroes continuing their fight, no one coming to help. Panic, fear, desperation, ruling him as his fingers bled as he dug and tore at the ruins to save Jana.

Hearing her cries the entire time, her desperate pleas for her big brother, failing to reach her on time, hearing her cries go weaker… He shut his eyes firmly, tears are useless, he thought to himself. He'd been too weak, if he had a power it had been useless!

In the end, he hadn't been enough. She'd been paralyzed and suffered brain damage from a lack of oxygen and blood loss. By the time the heroes had arrived to clean up their mess, and had rushed them to the hospital, his sister was too damaged for anything below Panacea.

Jordan had to breathe in and out harshly as he focused on his breathing exercises so he wouldn't hurt Jana's hand by accident in his sudden rage.

Panacea had fixed the physical ailments, but in a dismissive and unfeeling way, declared that there was nothing more she could do, that Jana was for all purposes never going to have the brain function to move again.

And Jordan knew she was lying! Panacea could do brains, she just didn't want to. Not unless it was to rape her own fucking sister. She left his then 9 year old sister as a vegetable, because she was fine with her suffering, as long as she got to keep her own delusions it didn't matter.

Because how she looked like as a hero was more important than helping people!

Jordan had almost done something unwise that day. Only the fact he couldn't abandon Jana on her own had prevented him from attacking the bitch that had bluntly told him to give up on his sister, that there was nothing that could be done.

Considering her sick fascination in her own sister, that had been beyond the pale to voice, and he'd trembled so hard the nurse thought he was having a seizure as he held himself back from strangling the fucking 'hero'.

This fucking useless hellhole of a world, he'd fucking triggered, seeing his sister swept away in rubble before him, forcibly transmigrated to another world… Why the hell hadn't he gotten a healing power? Or any power? What was the point of this hellish world if he couldn't do anything to help Jana?

Having no papers, being underage at 16, faced with his sister needing practically full time care that he couldn't afford, he'd had no choice but to commit crimes to get by. Even then, if not for Mai being willing to look after Jana when he did, he wouldn't even have been able to do that.

Would have had to sit at her bedside and watch her wither, helpless.

The heroes he held nothing but contempt for. They could kill Lung right now, all it would take was Miss Militia and a sniper rifle ventilating his head and his corona from a distance - without him having ramped up at all. Instead they faced him head on and with Jana's life as collateral damage, just so they could play a game of cops and robbers. And Panacea… A hero when it suited her, healing the minimum she could get away with, avoiding the rest unless it benefited herself, only pushing further when she could get what she wanted.

The heroes were indistinguishable from the villains.

The chicken Karaage grew cold in the small dingy dining area, as Jordan softly began rereading Jana's favorite fairy tales out loud, his fingers constantly stroking her hand, reassuring himself that her pulse was strong, that there was body heat, she was still there. There was still a chance that somehow, someday, he could fix this.

No matter what he'd have to do for it. This world was hell anyway, there wasn't any way to get forward by playing nice. And he doubted he'd survive Golden Morning either way. Which is why he needed to find a way back, for both him and Jana, a way to heal her, and then a way back to their old world.

Fuck everyone else.

At least he once again had the money for her medicine this month. Even if it meant he'd have to cut down on the amount he ate again.

Hold on, Jana. Your brother will find a way…

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A couple days later,

The harsh pounding on his door woke him up from his nap in the chair next to his sister's bed. He was instantly alert, his eyes first flickering over his sister, ensuring everything was normal there, before he rose gingerly, stretching his muscles, "Don't knock the fucking door down, asshole!" He called out, leaving the bedroom, feeling beyond irritated.

Just in case, he grabbed the baseball bat he kept next to the bedroom door, holding it loosely in one hand as he looked through the peephole. Fuck. He thought, hand clenching around the bat reflexively.

He opened the door halfway, hiding the arm holding the bat behind the door, his expression blank, "What can I do for the ABB today, boys?" He asked, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, while still ensuring he didn't come off as an easy mark.

The trio of ABB goons standing in front of his door wore the typical red and green, although they weren't visibly armed. He'd seen them around the area, these guys more couriers and lookouts then muscle, which gave him some sense of safety in the situation. They wouldn't send these guys if they were here to do anything violent.

The one in front, his head half shaved, half spiked up and colored red, spoke up, a crooked grin on his young face. "You've been hitting places around here, Michaels…" He hinted, rubbing two fingers together leadingly.

Jordan shifted slightly, ensuring he still had a good grip on the bat, his eyebrows raised in faked confusion, "Here and there, sure, but I made sure they weren't protected first, didn't want to step on the wrong toes..."

It had certainly made his life of crime more complicated, having to research what businesses paid Lung for protection, because hitting one of those would not end well for him. He was sure that the gas station he'd hit wasn't one of Lung's, he'd double and triple checked, and it had been on the very edge of the docks, practically not in the area at all.

"That gas station recently changed owners." The ABB goon said, his two friends both chuckling in dark amusement behind him.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck! Jordan thought, "How recently?" He asked, thrown off balance, his one hand clenching around the siding of his entranceway, making the weak wood creak.

"About right before you robbed the place, I'd say, right Jin?" One of the chucklefucks in the back asked the leader of this particular trio.

"Heh, that sounds right. Which doesn't make for a good look when you come in, robbing the place right after, you get me?" Jin said menacingly, a mocking smirk on his narrow face.

Jordan sighed, he was in-between a rock and a hard place here, if they were telling the truth he was fucked if he didn't pay reparations, if they were lying just to scam money from him… He was still fucked if he didn't pay reparations. "I obviously would never do anything to hurt the Azn Bad Boys." He grit out, "I will of course give you all the money back…" Please just take it, you fucking shitheads.

Jin laughed, which set off the two guys behind him. Jordan felt his heart sink, so it's like that. He thought glumly. He'd finally become too active to ignore, it seemed. God dammit!

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"The money is peanuts to the great Lung, no, we require recompense for your deviant actions against the righteous rulers of the docks." Jin said with a shit eating grin on his face, his thumbs hooked into his belt. "You'll be doing a little job, prove that you respect your betters." He needled.

Jordan wanted to bash his head in with his baseball bat. But the brief pleasure would only lead to trouble. Lung didn't give a shit about him, didn't know he existed, but if he bashed in the heads of his people, and managed to evade his normal goons, Lung would definitely send Oni Lee to make an example - he did not tolerate disrespect. Jordan held no illusions about any ability to survive that kind of retaliation.

"Of course I'll do the job, I have a debt I need to clear up, I am available whenever you need me." He said politely, forcing himself to show no hint of his anger. He had Jana to think of, he couldn't go to war with the ABB.

Jin nodded affably, obviously used to getting exactly this reaction from anyone he threatened within ABB territory. "Tonight, behind the Jade Goose." He poked a finger into Jordans muscled chest, "Ten, don't be late, just do us this little favor, and you'll be in the clear, for now."

Jordan nodded his agreement silently, watching the goons walk off after some more posturing, knowing that something like this never ended in just one favor. And as he wasn't Asian, he was obviously being used as expendable muscle. "Fuck." He muttered indecisively, looking back into the apartment.

Before he could decide on what to do, Mai left her apartment, having obviously been listening in. She marched straight up to him, her brow furrowed, and poked him in the chest harshly, "You have no choice, you must kill them!" She hissed. Her hair, normally up in a bun held together with sewing needles, was a mess, falling down her face like a curtain.

They'd obviously woken her up. Jordan never saw her with her hair down, it softened her features somewhat, not that he'd be stupid enough to tell her anything of the sort..

"If I kill them, they'll come for me, and…" He trailed off with a sigh. On his own, he could at least attempt to just leave, try his luck elsewhere. With Jana, that wasn't an option.

Mai shook her head stubbornly, poking him again, "Those idiots are so below the dragon that he likely has never heard of them, this job, they will not have told anyone you'll be coming with, this is their own private amusement - end them, and it ends there."

Jordan hesitated, making the young woman in front of him stomp her foot in frustration, poking him again, "Ow, woman! Stop that!" He growled, swatting at her hand. "I get what you're saying, but if you're wrong, it's all over."

Mai gave him a melancholy smile, "And if you don't kill them, it's over anyway, is it not?"

Jordan winced, because she wasn't wrong. He was either killed on this 'job' or he would be eventually as they continued to make use of him, holding the threat of him robbing a ABB protected business over his head until he died - or he killed them and he had at least the chance that this was a solo effort by the trio, giving him some hope.

"Can you watch Jana for me, Mai." He asked softly, already fishing in his pockets for money. He'd have to do it, his only chance was to end this thing before more people knew about it.

He was surprised that anyone at all knew about the robbery, but it wasn't entirely impossible that some Asian kid had seen him and told the trio someone his size had hit the place. There weren't many around the area of his size unfortunately, so it made sense.

Mai scoffed, grasping his wrist, stopping him, her gaze undecipherable, "Pay me when you get back." She ordered, smacking his abs until he stepped out of the way, the tiny girl sweeping into his apartment like she owned it, "I'll watch the girl…"

She always made it sound like such a chore, but he knew she spent time singing to his sister, painting her nails, and other similar activities that he hadn't paid her to do - she had a definite soft spot for Jana. His sister had always had that ability to win over anyone she met. He breathed out harshly through his nose, he needed to protect that, until he could give her the chance to meet Mai properly.

His focus shifted, the meeting tonight…

Jordan needed to scout out the area, only tangentially aware of the Jade Goose restaurant and its surroundings, it was deeper into the docks than he usually went. He also needed to find himself a proper weapon, prepare himself for total annihilation tonight, so he allowed Mai to take over his apartment without a word of protest, just thankful for her help. "Mai… If I don't come back…" He was lost for words, not sure if he could ask, not sure if he could actually force himself to say the words.

Mai nodded stiffly, "If you don't come back within two days. I will do what must be done."

Jordan swallowed loudly, but managed a heavy nod, before he walked off to the bedroom to get fully dressed, and to say goodbye to Jana, just in case.

This day he had feared for the entirety of the last year, that the gangs would notice him enough to either push him in, or try and push him out, permanently.

Power… If you exist, now would be a really good time to fucking lend a hand. He thought angrily.

Mai watched him with a dead gaze, already half writing him off, cynical as she was.

He kissed Jana's forehead as he finished dressing. "Love you." He mumbled, steeling himself for a new first.

He'd never killed before. But as he looked down at his helpless sister. Who depended on him for everything.

His eyes hardened,

He didn't expect he'd have much difficulty in doing the deed.

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When you spend a year on the lawless side of town, you learn of places where you can get guns, where you can get drugs, exotic shit that is beyond anything you can find legally, you pick up where you can launder money, all of the little tidbits that help criminals along. He'd never used the information, because frankly wasting his money on a weapon that could just be used as evidence against him felt stupid.

His size and a knife - or even a rusty metal pipe - was enough most of the time.

This time however… This time he couldn't take any chances. He was familiar with guns for all that he hadn't shot one in this world yet, and facing three ABB goons who'd probably be packing… He couldn't risk going in with just a knife this time.

Most of the guns in town came through the gangs, they had the safehouse and storage areas to keep large amounts of weapons around, and the capes to defend their stashes as well. Coupled with how rarely the PRT and Protectorate tried to really push hard against them - they practically had a monopoly.

But there were a few places. A few vendors that were more low key, more hidden. People that never got bothered by the heroes because they were small potatoes. And because they hid much more effectively then in some warehouses with a dozen obvious goons patrolling around outside it.

Jordan pushed an empty cart through Shoaling's grocery mart, a decently sized, locally owned grocery store, mostly selling Asian ingredients to the varied immigrants that had settled in Brockton Bay during the years of Endbringer destruction in Asia.

This particular store had a very large back area with industrial sized freezers, nominally because they shipped in so much of their stock from further away then most local grocers did. The shipping industry wasn't dead as he had briefly assumed on reading the story this world was based on, but it was severely diminished as not many companies could afford the insane insurance prices, and they lacked safe ports in many places in the world due to Parahuman warlords.

Jordan however knew that only one of the freezers was actually used for its intended purpose in this grocery store. The second belonged to a South Korean immigrant who used it as a weapon's store for all the Asian immigrants in the area.

Jordan walked by the large employee only swinging doors that led to the back rooms, because right next to those, was a beaten up door with words that were just barely visible, spelling out; electrical room - high voltage - keep out. Glancing around, he saw that the corner he was in was covered from casual sight from within the store by several shelves of products. He knocked on the door in a particular pattern, waiting a moment before knocking again.

The door opened slightly, a short elderly Asian man peering out at him suspiciously, having to crane his neck pretty far to look up at him. "What do you want?" He grumbled pushing the door open just enough to allow Jordan to slip inside.

"I'm here to buy." Jordan said, slightly perturbed at the welcome, eyeing the area he'd entered, shelves lined up against the wall carrying a multitude of weapons, including some not so common, such as shuriken and katanas. "You get many buyers for that stuff?" He said somewhat bemusedly, nodding towards the Katanas.

The old man snorted, slowly moving towards a workbench where a young woman was tinkering with something. Not in the superhero way he assumed, because that wouldn't be shown so clearly to strangers. This place was after all fairly well known in the Asian underworld community, Mai had given him the deets ages ago.

"That for posers. Is good money." The old man said, before poking the young woman in the shoulders with one gnarled finger, "Wake up, have customer, you run store now, no making me do all work."

"Hai, hai, gramps" She sighed, still fiddling with some sort of rotor, her overalls covered in grease, her hair cut short like a boys. She looked back over her shoulder uninterestedly, expressive hazel eyes meeting Jordans. "Look around, pick something, bother me when it's time to pay." She muttered, going back to what she was doing.

"Alright then." Jordan said, slightly thrown at the request, but he knew the place had a good reputation and while they paid their dues to Lung, they weren't actually part of the ABB. Well, all Asians belonged to ABB and all that nonsense - but these people weren't gang members, and that was good enough for Jordan.

"Lazy granddaughter, good for nothing." The old man muttered, the girl just rolling her eyes, obviously used to this song and dance routine.

Jordan walked around, keeping a slight eye on the other two as he looked, not willing to completely trust anyone other than Mai with his back. The place dealt almost exclusively in small arms and the curiosities that 'posers' looked for, as the old man so perfectly put it. Either way it wasn't like he could afford anything more than a small piece anyway, and he'd have to waste his entire take from the last robbery too.

He stiffened as another knock rang out, watching out of the corner of his eyes as the old stooped Korean man shuffled off to greet another customer. He wasn't exactly pleased to be sharing this space with more unknowns, especially as he intended to use his purchase to kill people tonight, the less people that could tie him and a gun together the better.

He almost choked on his tongue as the door opened and Assault walked in. The girl at the workbench visibly perked up, jumping off her seat to run over, "Mad-... Assault! It's been forever since you've been over!" She yelled, practically squealing.

Jordan didn't miss that slip, his eyes narrowing at the hero, he knew he'd been a villain before, but keeping his contacts even as a hero? That didn't seem very legal. Just another sign of hypocrisy, he thought bitterly, turning away from them all, focusing on the weapons.

The Protectorate hero ruffled the girl's hair, chuckling lightly, "Sorry, sorry, I've been busy, Sun Hee. I'm just coming by to check that you guys aren't being hassled."

The old man scoffed, "If we hassled, it's because people like you draw attention, go away." He grumbled grouchily, his granddaughter slapping his shoulder lightly with grease-covered hands, "Gramps!" She complained.

Assault just laughed lightly, raising his hands in mock defense, "I'm not here to cause you trouble old man, just here for old times sake, making sure little Sun here is growing up alright."

"I'm not so little anymore, I'll totally kick your ass any day." Sun Hee said fiercely, preening in front of the villain turned hero. The girl looked no older then Mai, and if she was over five feet, it was by technicality, Jordan would definitely qualify her as little, still.

Then to Jordans visible consternation, the hero turned his way, smiling pleasantly, "Not to worry, I'm not here to bother you, I'm not as black and white as most heroes, I know the little guys need a way to defend themselves in this part of town."

Jordan grunted as an answer, hoping to be able to leave it at that, keeping his eyes turned towards the shelves now, hoping the hero would leave soon. The last thing he needed was to be in any way connected with the Brockton Bay hypocrites.

"Looking for anything in particular?" Assault said pleasantly, stepping up next to him, Sun Hee stepping up next to him as well, both hands firmly holding Assaults left hand.

"Privacy." Jordan grunted out, refusing to meet the man's eyes, staring down at the guns on the shelf in front of him. He was literally planning murder tonight, he did not need this right now, buying a murder weapon with a hero standing by.

"Fair enough, I just thought I recognized you from somewhere, wanted to see if I could jog my memory." Assault said, having an easy going attitude and pleasant manner to deal with things, but it didn't ease Jordan's natural suspicions, if he was here to see these two, why was he bothering Jordan?

Jordan couldn't help the curl of his lips as a sneer came into being, Assault bringing up the memories of being buried in rubble while the heroes had more important things to deal with. "I'm sure you do…" He rumbled dangerously.

Assault hummed thoughtfully, Sun Hee looking around him to glare at Jordan, defending her hero with her expression alone, "Did I arrest you at some point?" The hero said, chuckling slightly.

Jordan growled under his breath, the fuck is your problem, hero? He thought, already stressed out with everything going on, he didn't need this fucker on his ass too. "Leave it alone." He said clippedly.

Sun Hee looked indignant on Assaults behalf, "Hey, this is my shop, you want anything from me you can't talk to Madc- I mean Assault, like that!"

Assault ruffled her hair again, crooning slightly, "So cute, you're still like five." He teased, getting the girl to puff out her cheeks in annoyance, a slight blush on her face. "Look," he said to Jordan, turning slightly serious for the first time since he entered, "If I arrested you or something, don't worry, I'm not here to hassle little Sun's customers."

Jordan clenched his teeth to keep himself from exploding on the other man, "Leave it." He ground out, turning to leave, he could get a gun in some other way, this had been a mistake.

"Hey, take it easy." Assault said, one hand on his shoulder. Sun Hee muttering next to him about asshole Gajins.

Jordan couldn't hold it in any longer, smacking Assaults hand away angrily, "Take it easy? That's what you do, right?" He bit out, his blood hot now, "Just play some games with the villains right? Don't matter what collateral damage happens around you, as long as the game is played right?" He met Assaults frowning visage with his own fired up and disgusted expression, "If you remember me I'm honestly surprised… You must have met a lot of people who's sister you and your friends crushed under a ton of cement and debris as you played cops and robbers with Lung - after all that's how you do it, isn't it?"

"Ah." Assault said, looking apologetic, "My apologies, I shouldn't have pushed." He looked honestly contrite, which just pissed Jordan off more.

"Sorry about pushing me right? But not sorry for what you did to my sister, because that's just business as usual?" He pushed away from Assault, before he did something stupid, he couldn't afford to spend the night in lockup. "You could clean this town up in minutes if you took it seriously, but you're more interested in playing games, don't fucking talk to me, you heroes are worse then Lung. At least he's fucking honest about how much of an asshole he is."

God, his power must be a bad luck generator or something, what are the odds he'd run into Assault visiting some old Madcap contacts on the one day he himself needed a gun. The old man who'd kept quiet through much of the argument, gave him a silent nod as he made to leave, probably experienced enough to see exactly what Jordan was talking about. The enforced game that only played into the villains and the gangs hands.

"You can't talk to him like that!" Sun Hee ran in front of Jordan suddenly, staring up at him, eyes flashing with indignation, her short stature making her look even younger as she blocked his way, cheeks puffed out in anger.

"Sun Hee." Assault sighed, stepping over to pull at her shoulder, "Leave him be, he has a right to feel that way."

"Just wait, girl." Jordan said tiredly, stepping around her, "If you got Assault visiting here, it's only a matter of time before Lung's people come for you or your gramps, and the heroes won't lift a finger, because the game doesn't allow them to punish Lung for what he'd do to you."

"You're lying!" Sun Hee said petulantly, being held back by Assault who did not say a word in his defense.

Jordan opened the door, sighing, suddenly feeling exhausted, "I really wish I was." He muttered, stepping out.

He didn't know what Assault was doing visiting in uniform like that, plain hubris? Too used to his new heroic life to realize what it looked like? To realize the consequences to Sun Hee and her grandfather if anyone reported this to the ABB.

According to Mai this little spot was left alone because they were practically harmless to the ABB and paid a substantial fee to keep operating. They wouldn't be so harmless anymore if they were believed to be connected to a Protectorate hero.

And now he still needed a gun, he couldn't go back there, not while knowing Assault was involved, that the girl would remember him all too clearly, and like a typical teenager, would hold a petty grudge against him for far too long. Not something he could afford if his gun was tied back to this place from the future trio of bodies of ABB goons. That's why he'd wanted a gun from a more unofficial locale, because it made it harder to track. Not so if that locale was tied to a fucking hero of all things.

Especially if he brought the ABBs attention to the place right around the time a trio of goons were shot.

He didn't know any other illegal vendors that he could use, and he certainly didn't want to go to a legal vendor, couldn't either, he didn't have an I.D that would pass muster there. So now he had to either get a gun from the gangs supplies, or straight from a gang member.

He couldn't go after an ABB goon, he couldn't afford to draw anymore attention in the docks, last thing he needed was anyone seeing him take one down to steal his gun - compounding the issue he already had of ABB goons knowing about his activities.

Empire was just… Beyond risky. While he'd gladly take down a racist any time of the day, there were too many people around during the day. A large black man taking down a white man in Empire territory, he'd have to be luckier then lady luck herself to pull that off without half a dozen sympathizers calling the rest of the Empire down on him.

That left one good target. The Merchants. They were hardly even a gang in reality, only the capes existing to beat back the BBPD made them anything other than a bunch of homeless junkies. They were also perfectly acceptable targets, neither the ABB or the Empire gave two shits about some junkies getting beaten up, it was their favorite pastime in fact.

The only issue was finding someone with a working firearm, as most of the Merchants were homeless drug addicts who owned nothing more then the clothes on their bodies.

He'd have to go after a dealer, those would be armed, although it also ran the risk he'd run into more than he could handle if he wasn't careful. He'd have to be careful, find a dealer that didn't have too much backup nearby.

The largest issue would be finding a dealer in the day, when they weren't as prolific. It wasn't as easy as just walking up to a street corner in the homeless section of the industrial park near the edges of the docks.

He sighed as he walked away from the grocery store, at least he'd started early, so he had plenty of time before the meet behind the Jade Goose, and he should easily be able to wrestle with a weak ass junkie.

He'd just have to keep an eye out. Meeting Assault this morning had his hackles raised. He didn't want to somehow find himself running into Skidmark while hunting for some low level dealer. As much as the newly revealed cape and his druggie gang was a joke to most in Brockton Bay, Jordan knew his power wasn't weak. Especially against a normal like himself.

His paranoia level was at an all time high as he walked carefully towards the absolutely broken part of Brockton Bay.

He saw capes in every reflection now, tensed up at the sight of every person he crossed paths with, wondering if they were a cape in civilian clothes.

Fucking Assault, he had him going nuts on the day he needed to keep his cool most of all.

God he hated parahumans.

Director Piggot had it right. They were all a bunch of unreliable weirdos.

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Finding a Merchant drug dealer shouldn't be this difficult, Jordan thought with annoyance, moving through the areas around the trainyard.

He ran into plenty of homeless people, but not one dealer, everyone sluggish or sleeping during the day it seemed.

Fucking junkies. He couldn't afford to stop and interrogate every homeless guy around. For one, it would take forever until he got anything worth his time… Secondly, that shit was memorable and he really didn't need the Merchants - as much of a joke as a gang that they were - to come after the guy nosying about.

Weak as they were. They still had capes. Jordan did not need that kind of heat after him. While Skidmark and Squealer were kind of a joke, they still didn't get taken down by the Protectorate whenever they ran into a patrol. Call it a fighting retreat if you will - they still fucking won if they got away.

Now if the Protectorate sent their heavy hitters all together, then yeah, Skidmark was fucked, but the heroes just didn't work that way. And with how jailtime worked for Parahumans, Skidmark would be out in a few weeks at most anyway, he was hardly Birdcage material at this point.

His thoughts were interrupted as a prostitute stepped into the street ahead of him, having come out of one of the many alleys that dotted this area. "Looking for a good time, honey?" She asked flirtatiously.

Jordan grimaced, taking in the obvious needle marks and the emaciated frame of the woman, thankfully she at least was an adult, and not like so many in the sex trade in town - painfully young.

He was about to wave her off, when he had another thought, stopping in front of her, giving a jerky nod, "Sure…" He said feeling stupid and awkward as all hell.

The brunette smiled tiredly, "Big boy like you, I bet we can have all types of fun." She said leadingly as she led him back into the alley she'd come from.

He grimaced at the dirty mattress behind a dumpster, although he wasn't exactly surprised this stuff happened even out in the open. He hadn't been kidding with calling Brockton Bay a hellscape. He raised a hand, palm up, to stop her before she could do something mentally scarring, like remove her few scraps of clothes. "I just need information, I'll pay for it, it's got nothing to do with the gangs, I just need a lead on a piece."

He might have been intending to rob a gun off a drug dealer, but honestly, he wasn't having much luck and he still wanted to spend some time casing out the area around the Jade Goose. If the prostitute could point him to a gun without all the extra complications, he'd take it.

She pursed her lips in thought, eyeing him up, "How much would you pay for a gun?" She asked, a shine in her eyes telling him he'd definitely lucked out.

"I got enough, few hundred definitely." Jordan said, not wanting to give a definitive answer, because he knew people like this, and if he said he had five hundred - she'd say the price was five hundred, even if it was worth half that.

She scratched her hair, hemming and hawing for a few minutes, looking unsure. Jordan standing silently and waiting, not wanting to spook her into refusing to sell him the information.

"I have a gun." She admitted after a few minutes, "For my protection, see…"

"Is it in working order?" Jordan asked, suddenly laser focused on the prostitute.

"Show me the money first!" She demanded, chewing on her lower lip.

Jordan brought out two hundred, not all he had, but enough to show he had cash on him.

"Alright… 300 and it's yours." She said, walking over to the dumpster slowly, before reaching in, being obvious with her motions as she took a gun and a holster out of the dumpster.

Jordan wasn't a gun expert in any way, he'd fired some at a gun range with his dad in his home world, so he was comfortable firing one, but he couldn't tell what brand or anything a gun was.

It was a decent piece, not too small or big, perfectly ordinary looking. And despite being somewhat covered in garbage, it didn't look like it was damaged, just filthy.

"Alright. 300 dollars for the gun and holster." Jordan agreed, pulling some more money out of his pockets, holding one hand out with the money, the other reaching out for the gun. "Same time, alright?"

The woman nodded, eyes greedily locked onto the money, and soon Jordan was holding his new gun, checking it over, finding that it was indeed in good shape.

It was also entirely without ammo. He sighed, looking over at the smug woman who'd already made the money disappear somewhere. "What about ammo?" He asked, chagrined. What was the point of keeping a gun for protection with no ammo inside anyway?

She smiled. "Another 300 for ammo." She said sweetly.

Jordan really wished he was the kind of guy that could beat a hooker up, because now this was just highway robbery right here.

Begrudgingly he paid, and got the hell out before she could find another way to stiff him.

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Jordan 'arrived' to the alley behind the Jade Goose just a minute before his supposed meeting time at ten.

In reality, he'd already spent three hours in the area, looking for good hiding places or escape routes, and of course looking out for a potential trap - finding nothing that hinted at Jin and his chucklefucks luring him here just to outright kill him. The job was likely legit then, even if it was likely as expendable muscle.

How expandable would tell him at what point to enact his plan to kill the three. At least the Goose was closed, he'd watched all the staff leave already, so if he needed to kill the trio immediately, there wouldn't be witnesses.

If only he could trust them about this being a one time thing, then he could just do the job and walk away. But he knew the gangs, knew how they worked, and it was never just one thing. They'd demand more and more, using him up until he either died or got caught and jailed.

He didn't bother hiding his gun, letting the holster show, knowing he would be expected to be armed anyway, it would only invite questions if he tried to hide that he was packing. It would make Jin suspicious and that's not something he wanted to deal with - things would be difficult enough with three people arrayed against him without him making it more difficult for himself.

Jin was smoking as Jordan arrived, his two pals sitting on the restaurants backstep, one of them murmuring something to Jin as he saw Jordan approaching. It was the tall gangly one of the trio that had spoken, the one that looked like he wasn't anywhere near 18 yet.

An unfortunate reality around here, not many Asian kids had the luxury to stay out of the ABB.

"Ah, punctual." Jin said with a grin, flicking his cigarette away, the dark alley almost filled to the brim with garbage bags, a small path carved out in-between the garbage to the backdoor of the restaurant. "Eager to get to work, eh?"

Jordan noted immediately that all of them were packing as well, as he'd thought. This was obviously going to be a bit more then just the regular protection rackets, as he'd suspected.

"So what's the biz? This late at night? We shaking someone down? Hitting a Merchant stash house?" Jordan asked impatiently, purposefully showing himself a little ill at ease, like the trio would expect.

Too confident and he'd have the trio second guessing how long to keep him alive, too ill at ease, and they might just kill him rather then risk him fucking up what they're doing or they'd expect him to try to pull a runner.

"Nah, we're doing something special, just for you." Jin said grinning ominously, his bleached teeth blinding in the almost pitch black filthy alley.

"Do I get to know what it is?" Jordan asked, not liking the matching grins on the trio of ABB goons. He'd known this entire job was out to get him in a way, but he'd hoped it wouldn't be a blatant thing. They'd be more on their guard with something more difficult, like whatever this is. Either way it's probably not good for him.

"My good friend here," Jin punctuated the statement by punching the shoulder of the shorter one of his friends, "Heard some juicy intel on an Empire affiliated punk selling his shit right near our territory, you're going to take care of it for us."

Jordan grimaced, Empire, fucking of course… Sending a black man against Empire goons was literally asking him to commit suicide if even a whisper of the act got out afterwards. "This guy alone?" He asked gruffly, I'll have to take these jokers out before the job then, too risky to go up against the Empire with these goons at my back…

Jin smirked, swaggering up to Jordan following the small path through the garbage, "Only two more guys guarding him, so three in total, not a hard job for a guy your size, eh?" He joked, playfully using his knuckles to tap his chest a couple of times, "We'll hang back and eh… Supervise, heh."

So you can shoot me in the back, more likely… Jordan thought disparagingly.

Jordan saw his opportunity however in how close Jin had gotten to him, grabbing Jin with one arm around his thin torso, while reaching for his gun with the other hand, pulling Jin taut to his body to use him as a human shield.

He ignored Jin's sudden cursing, his thick arm easily able to hold the small man and not allowing him the leverage to get to his gun, his own gun was out of his holster and aimed at the first of the goons, the shorter one, even as they were starting to jump into action. His heart was beating wildly as he thought, I can do this, I got this!

Of course, that's when his human shield slipped down and out of his arm like so much dead weight, a crossbow bolt in his chest, Jordan's heart had been pounding so loudly throughout his veins that he hadn't even heard the bolt being fired.

He definitely noticed however as fucking Shadow Stalker materialized out of shadow behind one of the goons, having come down from the rooftop, even as he pulled the trigger, his sight still aimed at the shorter ABB man.

The guy had his gun half raised in his direction when Jordan's shot hit him dead centre, followed by a crossbow bolt hitting his neck just a millisecond later.

Shit, shit, shit! What the fuck is my luck today?? Jordan thought frantically, aiming his gun towards the other goon, but holding his fire, unsure of his next action, with Shadow Stalker playfully swirling around the goon anytime he tried to hit her, playing with her food like some sort of sadistic cat - he wasn't sure what to do.

She kept going into her breaker state as soon as the goon turned to shoot, appearing behind him, purposefully making noise to make him swirl around panicked, before she did it again as his sight aimed her way.

The shadow state in this dimly lit alley only looking that more intimidating as she blended in with the darkness.

Jordan was in deep shit here. Shadow Stalker might be in her Wards uniform instead of the vigilante gear, but he knew she was carrying lethal bolts. Jin could attest to that, dead at his feet as he was. He wasn't even aware that she was a Ward yet, last he had heard she was a vigilante in a hockey mask, and they were still months away from Canon.

She must be newly inducted to the Wards, going out for a fun spin in her new threads. And it just so happened to be when Jordan was around, and she was just the right kind of hero to not let him go using the excuse that these guys were threatening him.

Considering she shot the hostage, he didn't hold much hope for this situation. I can't go down like this! He thought wildly, gun hesitating on which target to pick, Shadow Stalker giving him a brief glance before discarding him upon seeing his hesitation.

She'd immediately disregarded him despite his size and the weapon in his hand, not something Jordan was used to, but she was a parahuman, they played by different rules. Maybe she saw his hesitation and assumed he wouldn't be able to fire again?

Was that why she was leaving him alone? Or was she just saving him for last to terrorize?

With the way she was sadistically playing with the ABB guy… He didn't hold out much hope she'd just let him run away.

Maybe… Maybe if he took him down, she'd thank him for the assist? Maybe she'd let him go? She wasn't really a hero, she might be good with the whole strongest win type of mentality. It fit her whole predator style, right?

Mind made up, he waited for Shadow Stalker to go into her breaker state, before he aimed and pulled the trigger several times, aiming for center mass on the taller goon.

Suddenly his head split with immense pain, worse then anything he's had before, enough that he almost thought Stalker had shot him in the head with a crossbow bolt. But even as the pain hit, he could see what was happening, almost like it was in slow motion. A horrific sight of unintended consequences.

The back of Shadow Stalkers head exploded in gore, her limp body slumping to the ground as if a puppet who's strings just got cut, the other three shots he'd fired hitting the ABB goon, killing him as well.

Shadow Stalker had gone into her breaker state again, the goon had turned already anticipating her jump scare, Jordan had fired, anticipating her jump scare on the other side of the goon, and Stalker had returned to corporeal form, right where she'd already been standing, obviously to fuck with the goons mind even more. Which had her right in the way of Jordans shots, not able to react quickly enough to go back into her breaker state before the first bullet hit.

Fuck. He'd just killed a Ward. Sure, she might have done the same to him, but also… She might not have. And he just killed a kid. She's what? 14? 15? Fuck!

Hesitating only for a moment, he went into action, cleaning off his gun, before placing it in Jin's hand, firing off another shot with it to ensure there was gun residue on his hand.

Now it looked like Shadow Stalker had come upon a trio of criminals, swooping in, taking one out with a crossbow bolt, Jin firing all panicked and also hitting that goon, Shadow Stalker then firing against Jin, hitting him in the chest with a crossbow bolt before turning to deal with the last goon - but Jin managed to fire off several shots before dying, taking out Shadow Stalker and accidentally his last friend too.

Yes… Yes this could work. They'd find Shadow Stalker having used lethal ammunition and the PRT would bury all this anyway, not wanting it out, especially if she was just made a Ward.

He was alone now in an alley with four dead bodies…

He needed to get out of here right now! As he thought that he suddenly had a funny feeling, and he shot back ten feet, without touching the ground. He stared down at himself. His shadowy incorporeal state.

Shadow Stalker's power.

He gulped in dread…

I think I know what my power is now…

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