Bain walked through the supermarket, examining the various food on display. It was tempting to buy the more delicious looking stuff, especially when it had names like Major Crunch and Meatalicious. Regardless, the slight fee Nahma charged for protection when entering the tunnels from level two and down wasn't nearly consistent enough to buy anything big, so he carefully grabbed salt and pepper, then made his way to the checkout.
While waiting in line, he glanced at the magazines near him and almost did a double-take. One of them proclaimed proudly on the front, "EVERYWHERE'S REAL NAME REVEALED! Read more on page six!"
He knew it was bait. He knew it was bait - so why was he so curious? In spite of himself, he reached out and began reading, the old lady in front of him filing through her bag of coupons, the harried cashier trying not to look directly at Bain.
Flipping to page six, he found the article.
"One day fourteen years ago, crimes began to solve themselves and robberies were stopped while in progress. All across Centropolis were do-gooders arriving at the scene to find the situation already resolved. And at all of the sites, a small card was found. A calling card, to be exact. And on these cards was written the now-famous phrase, 'Courtesy of Everywhere'. Neither the criminals nor the cameras taping any of the cases ever revealed who the mysterious hero was, and he never came forward, though many impostors tried to take credit. We may never know just who he really was."
He sighed, annoyed. It was bait.
"Next!"
Bain, still a little frustrated at the fact that he'd been duped, placed the salt and pepper on the counter and growled, "Just run it through."
The cashier, hands trembling despite his outwardly calm expression, aimed the checkout scanner at the tags and it bleeped pleasantly.
"Thank you." Reaching into a small nook next to his neck, Bain withdrew a small pouch from which he pulled the two dollars and eleven cents that were required. He placed them on the counter without much refrain and left with his prize.
Unlike at the Tower, almost everyone avoided him studiously, without actually making it too obvious. It wasn't that no one looked at him - plenty of people were doing that. It was more that conversations died around him and that a noticeable gap formed near him that was filled the moment he walked far enough away.
The sidewalk had been widened and improved multiple times over the years to better accommodate the powers of heroes and villains alike. For example, over in Hot Rod's zone, you would find reinforced railings to protect against the bursts of wind produced by the speedy hero's wake. In Deadman's area, the sidewalk had been entirely converted into a full-on cage walk with barbed wire and steel gates. Not exactly welcoming, but it was better than being bitten by the villain's army of undead, though he'd agreed to stay within his limits after getting beaten by a group of heroes. Now that was a story worth telling.
Here, in Blockhead's zone (he'd tried to have his hero name changed several times, but it had caught on thoroughly) it was a simple cement sidewalk, with no unusual differences. The hero wasn't famous by any means but was both a proficient fighter and an excellent rescuer, both of which were important for a hero. For Bain, it just meant he didn't have to worry about being forced off the sidewalk by an insistent group of humanists.
Their club had been around for years and showed no signs of slowing down. If anything the movement was growing every month, as more and more monsters appeared around Centropolis. Even though the vast majority of them were peaceful, and good workers to have in conditions that were dangerous for others. Unfortunately, for every dozen passive monsters there was a psycho that thought it could defeat the system and rise to the top. Naturally, they always were crushed entirely by the small army of heroes, though there had been that one exception...
Finally, Bain made it to the heavily reinforced subway entrance, the two guards armed with assault rifles lounging near the gateway. One of them snapped to attention, trying to unholster his weapon, while the other simply sighed. "Hello, Bain. Do you mind asking Nahma to stop leaving rat corpses near the bottom of the stairs? It's starting to smell."
Bain shrugged. "Sorry about that, Jim. He leaves them for me to eat. I don't think he means to disturb you, but I can ask him to start leaving them on the second layer instead."
The other guard seemed to realize that Bain wasn't a threat and slowly swung his rifle onto his back, asking, "Eh - are you are a frequent visitor?"
Jim chuckled. "Right, you're new. Bain here lives down in the tunnels. Him and the centipede take care of the more violent critters, and they'll even protect you for a decent fee - provided you're stupid enough to go down there, anyway."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Swinging the gate open, Jim gestured in with one hand. "Go right on in." Bain nodded and ducked under the sign above the entrance, which was clearly marked 'DO NOT ENTER - HAZARD'.
Early on in the tunnel system's origin, Nahma had dug almost a hundred layers of exponentially increasing depth and hadn't bothered mining any of the ores or materials exposed by his work. As a result, they usually had one or two eager treasure hunters go in trying to make a quick fortune. Needless to say, they tended to quit by the third layer, where the rats were bigger than dogs. It was at that point that they could be escorted back to the surface, albeit for a slightly larger fee. Most people paid the price, literally speaking, and they hadn't had a death yet.
As he reached the bottom, Bain inhaled the smell of freshly rotting rat and grinned. Salt and pepper would go quite well with that.
Picking it up with an arm, he slung the cat-sized rat over his shoulder and stepped onto the cool dirt of his home. Nowhere in Centropolis could you find a better-insulated place than the tunnels. It was fresh in summer and warm in winter, and it wasn't uncommon for the homeless to try and live there. There was actually a small settlement on the second level where Nahma had politely carved out a massive cave, and last Bain had checked, there were almost thirty people living in it. Taking a turn to the right, Bain tensed and shot away like an arrow from a bow.
The passage Bain was taking had been excavated relatively recently (at least relative to Nahma), and an entrance had been placed there and been called the subway. It was honestly a rather accurate title, as his tunnels were indeed underground and were a method of getting around. Several entries had been placed around Centropolis and were frequently used by supers on both sides to get around quickly and anonymously. Again, Nahma charged to use it, though only a small amount. There had been more than one incident where a villain or, more rarely, a hero refused to pay and were immediately booted out of the tunnels. Of course, there were some that the two monsters wouldn't tangle with, but those supers didn't use the tunnels to start with.
Grabbing a horizontal pipe jutting through the walls, Bain lowered himself through a wide hole in the ground and was greeted with a pale spider larger than he was. It retreated quickly though, not even trying to fight him. The monster's eyes narrowed, curious. This wasn't the first time he'd seen this particular spider, but it didn't try to fight him or any of the humans, its webs didn't occupy the primary tunnels, and most importantly, spiders didn't taste very good. Its intelligence appeared to be fairly high since it knew better than to attack any of the more dangerous occupants of the tunnels. Perhaps it was a new monster? Bain didn't know enough about spiders to be sure they could talk, but he would try and converse with it the next time he saw it. More help managing the subways would be nice.
The rat wasn't holding up to his speed very well - it really must have been decomposing quickly, even though Nahma had likely killed it fairly recently. Oh well, now was as good a time as any.
Sitting down, Bain liberally sprinkled his new condiments on the corpse and closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the smell one more time. Ever since he'd been found by Nahma all that time ago, rat had been his favorite food, though they tasted much better when fresh - or even better, still alive. Using his claws to carefully and cleanly cut through the meat (and the bone, and the marrow, and the floor - you get it), he tossed a piece in his mouth, and his many teeth got to work. It was deliciously squishy, and the salt and pepper made it taste so much better.
A slight rumble shook the tunnel. Most would have thought it was a train, or supers fighting, but Bain had come to recognize the sound of thousands of legs a long time ago. He was a little surprised that Nahma was coming all the way up to the second floor just to see him, though.
The tunnel was expanded significantly as the centipede rammed his body into the opening, before folding his legs and lying down with a pleased sigh. "I thought you'd never get back. Where have you been?" Bain held up the salt and pepper in answer, and the monster's eyes sparkled. "I've got just the thing to go with those!" He pushed his body to the side as somewhere down his body, his legs began passing food up.
A few seconds later, a pig rolled in front of Bain, and his mouth dropped in shock. He hadn't seen a pig in years and they tasted amazing. And with the salt and pepper... He ripped off a leg, eager to try it.
Bain leaned backward and groaned, a highly acidic tear spilling out of his top right eye. It tasted better than anything he'd ever eaten, probably even better than that very first rat. Superpowers gave meat an interesting tang, but this was practically gourmet! Nahma seemed to agree, a slight shiver rolling down his body as the food hit him. "Aaaahhh, that hits the spot. Haven't had something that good since that one super - what'd he call himself, the Controller? Anyway, he tried to use mind control on me, wanted me to destroy the city and all that. It was tempting, but then I smelled him. All that fat and technology went down so well - it was quite the taste."
Bain winced in spite of himself. His desperation to become a hero stemmed from his desire to be admired, which probably came from low self-esteem or something. Either way, where Bain refused to attack humans to improve his peaceful reputation, Nahma tried not to eat them because the heroes had warned him against it, and not much else. The centipede was just too old to try and change his eating habits, which was to say, anything that moved.
Yawning, Bain dug a hole underneath him and spun himself into a ball, the dirt hiding him below. As he slowly fell asleep, he wondered what Everywhere was doing since he'd retired. Probably living rich...
He fell asleep with heroes foremost in his mind.
Nahma observed the small heap of dirt and sighed. He tried not to eat people very often at all, knowing that it upset Bain for some reason, but that Controller fellow really had tasted good.