IdeasGuy
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See No Evil: Unexpected and Unwelcome (ch. 30)
🕑 Added 2021-01-27 15:59:12 +0000 UTCI should have played more city builder games, I reflected as I looked out at the tunnel that was under construction by a few dozen men and women. More were helping out by bringing relevant materials to the workers. The whole system was based on how cities built tunnels -- people up front were doing the hard manual labor while others lagged behind to do the detail work. Behind them were people moving in.
Only it was a little different. Or very different. The cities didn't use an utterly massive root to live inside of, which they then paved over. A layer of reinforced cement was placed over the interior of the root, giving a smooth floor, walls, and on the ceiling was basically a growing zone. Various seeds were being planted and the root grew the fruits and vegetables in addition to cleaning the air of carbon monoxide. More plants were allowed to grow in slits on the road and walls.
I had underestimated how big Ivy would make the tunnel. Or how big they were meant to be on the blueprints. The tunnel was utterly fucking massive. Some of the space would fill up with buildings and stuff, but for now, it looked way too big. The ceiling was also fairly high too, high enough that we could squeeze three-story buildings in if we let the ceiling of the tunnel serve as a roof for the buildings.
And it was just one tunnel. There were more. 7th Heaven was undergoing reconstruction to serve as a hub, the center of the new and improved Lowtown.
"I… need way more money," I remarked to myself. I needed an absolute fuckton of money. My budget for the place was way too small for what it needed. The materials… for every ounce of concrete we used, I had to condense a pound to grind up the quality. Same for the rebar. For everyone we used, fifty went into that one and we needed hundreds of thousands to build a single tunnel. The obvious choice was to cut corners. Use base materials then replace them later when I was more flushed with cash.
The idea rubbed me the wrong way. The idea of cutting corners with this place just seemed… wrong. Like using Elmer’s glue and crayons when repairing a priceless work of art. The corners I did cut were to cut costs where I could, but never at the expense of quality. A deal was made with the junkyard for metal and scrap of which I turned into rebar, then grinded up to standard. Concrete… concrete was the trouble child. We needed a lot of it, and there wasn't a simple way to get my hands on the quantity I needed.
Legally.
In the past week… well, a shit ton of cement trucks were stolen. That concrete factory on the edge of the city? Shipments were hit. Stores were robbed of their powdered concrete as well. And it just wasn't enough. It barely covered one tunnel. My needs for concrete were so great I ended up robbing Bludhaven of their stores too.
Yet, it just wasn't enough. Lowtown was eating up resources that I just couldn't afford. Sainthood Enterprises had been keeping things afloat, but it was straining under the demand. I was firmly in the red. At the rate things were going? I'd be completely bankrupt by the end of the month.
"I just need… more money," I muttered, mulling over the idea while a foot tapped against the ground. There just wasn't a quick and easy solution. I was building a small city that needed about three large cities worth of materials. There was asking Cobblepot, but I doubt he'd be willing to foot this bill for me.
My sources of income were growing, just not fast enough. Sainthood Construction had yet to pick up a contract beyond lawn maintenance. Sainthood Flower's was slowly growing, mostly supplied by the cocaine demand. Sainthood Entertainment had seen the most growth out of the three -- our first app had launched and we were adding an expansion soon to the gacha game. Even without me laundering my money, the app was climbing up the ranks of the app store. I had greenlit another -- what amounted to a Fate rip-off, and it was doing nicely.
I needed to add… microtransactions. Paywalls. Timesavers. Every single dirty trick that EA had perfected over the course of a decade. Only… only I couldn't go too fast or else I would kill my apps. Like a toad in water, I needed to cook the gamers slowly to avoid a boycott. When I was too big to fail, then I could fuck the gamers into the dirt, but not now. Not yet.
"I need more money," I muttered once again, swallowing a sigh before I turned around away from the tunnel construction. Behind me, people were hard at work. The people that had crowded the tunnels were spread out, each pitching tents while they waited for houses to be constructed. The ten thousand population we had was now sustained, but more were on their way. In the past week, we already had an influx -- a combination of good PR with the heaters and word of mouth about the place.
They gaped up at me as I walked by them, so lost in my thoughts I barely noticed. Though, I did see the mural of myself already tagged on a wall. The joke was on them though -- the concrete ate paint. Within a week, the mural would be gone. If I saw another mural of me with Saint of Something Something added underneath then I was going to start screaming.
My mind thought over the issue and it was becoming increasingly clear that I was currently tapped out on legal ways to make money. I could start up another business, but that would take resources I currently didn't have. It took money to make money-
Hm. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I felt the familiar weight of my cards in my pocket. Their weight had become something of a safety blanket for me. The few hours that I slept, I ended up holding the cards in hand just in case someone had managed to sneak in to steal them. It was unlikely with the number of cameras and my alarm was my contacts shaking… and nothing in this world was more alarming than feeling your eyeball vibrate.
Taking the cards out, I walked through the tunnel, heading back to 7th Heaven, my mind racing with every step. The cards flipped through my fingers, a habit that I was developing, though I was trying to curb it. As I walked, I noticed the people coming and growing. A family of three walked my way -- a woman with two kids, the oldest around ten while the youngest couldn’t be older than five.
The younger kid’s jaw dropped when he saw me, simply stopping in the middle of the walkway so suddenly he was nearly knocked over when his brother continued to walk while holding his hand. I offered a thin smile, not really having the time to entertain a kid, but I’d be a liar if I said the sheer awe wasn’t flattering a little. The kid looked like he just saw a superhero. But, as nice as it might be, it was more weird and uncomfortable so I quickly hurried along.
My train car was currently the only thing that was currently untouched in 7th Heaven. The platform was being torn up to level everything out -- so, the meal areas and the bar were gone, moved down into one of the tunnels. The entire area was planned to be widened and to sink it down lower -- it would take some time, and I would have to find somewhere else to sleep, but 7th Heaven would be better for it.
Walking up the steps to my front door, since the platform was mostly gone, I stepped inside and dragged a hand down my face. I tossed a card towards my desk -- my aim was getting pretty good with them, because it landed perfectly on my desk before unsealing itself. A dull blue duffel bag appeared on my desk, and after unzipping it, I looked down at the last of my funds.
I had wasted too much money, I reflected. I invested too much into this place at the wrong time. Now, I only had about a million dollars to work with. It hurt my heart to see. It really did. As I took a seat, I grabbed a bundle of bills and gave it a look for a moment.
An idea was cooking in the back of my mind. Setting the money aside, I unsealed my notebook -- basically just a planner to make sure I didn't forget things and to jot down ideas I had. Turning to a clean page, I wrote out the word money and drew a circle around it. What were things that people paid money for? I already had flowers, construction, and entertainment.
Drawing a line connected to the money bubble, I wrote down food. Everyone needed to eat, after all. Clothing too since everyone needed clothing. Restaurants and clothes stores. The heaters that we made… electronics. I should also look into game development beyond apps.
I was breaking down every idea I've had until now and searching for money. Every legal method of income I could get my finger into. To that end, I added auto shops. Maybe a car brand. I needed to find out if that truck that had been stolen from Tifa still worked. I hadn't heard anything about a replacement, so I'm guessing that it still did.
To that end, could I use my cards to build a model of an advanced car and have it be broken down and copied? Or was the magic of my cards too innate of a component to think of reproducing? I needed to talk to Jack, so I made a note to myself to speak with him. If it worked… that could be a real money maker. Basic family vehicles, sports cars, racing cars to simple luxury cars.
It also went beyond that. If I could provide a blueprint to reverse engineer then I could do the same with game consoles, computers -- anything that has hardware and software. If I could mass-produce them…
Each smaller bubble had a branching bubble attached to it, further breaking down ideas. Estimates of costs needed, of materials needed, and the like we're scribbled down. The amount for any one of my ideas, to do them right, would need more money than I could currently produce. I would also need to speak with experts to further refine the ideas. I would need to look into renting buildings, possibly outright buying them, opening a factory… factories.
When I felt satisfied with the page, I flipped it and scribbled Dirty Money on a clean sheet of paper. My pen tapped into the page, leaving small dots on the fringe of the paper. Finally, after a moment, I wrote down cocaine. Snowflame was still in my pocket. I could call him up and look into shipping in cocaine for my own distribution. I knew how much it could make. I needed that money.
My pen resumed tapping at the edge of my paper for another long minute, mulling over my other options. Then, very slowly, I wrote down information.
I had cameras all over Lowtown and so far, not a single one had been discovered or damaged. That was because of how small they were. How they looked like ordinary things just because I combined enough cameras together with a lamp or something. More would be added.
Which brought me to information. I could look to expand my gaze. With Sainthood Construction, I could plant video cameras and microphones wherever we got a contract without anyone being the wiser. It was a huge invasion of privacy, but I kinda didn't give a shit about that. I wanted the money. If Batman could get away with a global version of Brother Eye, then I could get away with just a city. With my cameras… I could sell information. And no one would know -- if I could make a vine immune to detection, I'm sure I could do the same with a video-taking lampshade.
I wrote down what I would need. Firstly, I would need to get actual construction contracts. That, I could possibly go to Cobblepot for. Something to get our name out there.
My attention was stolen by the sound of the door opening. With the lack of a knock of any sort, I assumed that it was either Tifa or Revy. Looking up proved that it was the former. Tifa sent me a bright, if tired, smile. I returned it, knowing that I looked just as tired. She walked across the train car, gesturing to the money as she approached. "Thinking of making a run for it?" She questioned with a teasing tone.
"A couple of times," I admitted. This was not what I imagined my life becoming. Not in the slightest. "I'm just working on some money problems, trying to make the numbers add up how I want them to."
A grimace passed over Tifa's face. She knew how our books looked. All things considered, we were making a lot of money. In any other circumstances, I'd be content to kick my feet up and rank it in. I was on track to make millions. I just needed hundreds of millions.
"Maybe I can help?" Tifa offered, walking behind me to place her hands on my shoulders. Probably should have flipped to the other page because I heard her sigh. "Drugs and information?"
I couldn't see her face, but she sounded tired. "Right now? They are the best bets. Everything else… it all needs money before it can make any. And we're about tapped out," I admitted, gesturing to the duffel bag.
"I know," Tifa quickly reassured, and I only realized then how tightly I had wound myself up when I felt her hands massaging my shoulders. "We have to do what we have to do to get by."
I let out a sigh, trying to unwind. "I should have saved more money. I should have found contracts for the winter. I should have put more money into advertising…" I should have been better with the money that I had. Spent it more wisely. I should have better accounted for costs compared to the growth of my income.
"How about some kind of fundraiser? Or… the Narrows… it's in really bad shape, Vergil. Maybe we can shop around there and start flipping houses?" She offered and both ideas had merit, but both weren't instant injections of cash. "There's also the girls to think about," Tifa added.
I leaned into my chair and her touch, despite feeling another problem getting added to the pile on my plate. "So, it's official? I'm dating a pimp now?" That earned me a playful slap upside the head.
"Sammy convinced the girls under the Street Kings to come over to us. A dozen of them. They're all lovely and nice… if a bit nervous. The lowest cut that they would accept was fifteen percent. I didn't really argue too hard for lower considering the last time we seemed too good to be true," Tifa answered.
So, I would be dealing with further scrutiny from the Batfamily, and there was a two-bit gang out there that would be upset that we stole their girls. Honestly, I really did wish Tifa had just crushed them. Completely and utterly so they wouldn't ever be a problem. Now it just felt like I was waiting for them to make the first move.
I added prostitution to the list. As well as the home flipping, though I added it to the other page. It would be a way to get our names out there. And it could be the start of my information network.
Lastly, there was a final issue that I needed to address. "Dabbling in prostitution is a start, but Penguin is going to expect more," I decided, adding a new line to dirty money: gang-related activities. "I just… " I didn't want it to lead back to me.
"I know. I don't like the idea of using the people that come here as a gang either," Tifa said, and I didn't correct her about my moral hangup.
"Do you see any other way?" I asked, finally sitting down and thinking about how I would start a gang. I needed degrees of separation. Layers upon layers. I wanted to be the one pulling the strings in the shadows behind someone else pulling the strings in the shadows who was also pulling strings in the shadows who was pulling the strings of the face of the gang. Even then, I wanted more layers.
That was the issue. I didn't have a whole lot of options in terms of people I would trust to lead a gang. The natural choice was to use someone like Revy or Jack, but both were too tied into this place.
Tifa didn't have an immediate answer. For a moment, my thoughts strayed to Jeremiah. If that idiot had been less of an idiot, then he would have been perfect. The perfect proxy to take over East End for me.
"We could talk to the Street Kings," Tifa voiced after a long moment. "They're in the Narrows, but they're small-time. We could convince them to move to East End. Offer them someplace nice… you would have to talk to the leader's mom, though. Convince her."
My pen started to tap at the notebook again, thinking it over. "What's she like?" I questioned, mulling the idea over. It had potential. If they were small-time, then it would be easy to move them. Easy to get them to bite at the bait, but could they be controlled?
"She's got a sharp tongue. I think you would like her," Tifa offered, so I probably would. Still, even with a target to start at…
This couldn't lead to me. To us. To Lowtown. If I found my proxy, then I needed a way to make sure that they stayed my proxy. Maybe it was just a case that I watched too many movies, but all it took was one broken link in the chain of command, and the next thing that I knew, the gang that was under my thumb without realizing it was suddenly free.
"I need…" I muttered, continuing to tap at my page. I… was looking at this wrong. "I need Revy," I decided. The idea seemed to click in place. Taking shape with every second -- it was simple, in the end. I was making it more complicated than it needed to be. Or, rather, I was trying to have too much of a hand in things.
"For?" Tifa questioned, not sounding surprised that she would be my pick.
"To start a gang war. Or, at least continue one," I informed, setting my pen down. The winter had settled in hard, so a lot of the gang fighting had slowed to a crawl. The war had gone cold. Odds were, by the time that spring came, the war wouldn't be anything like it was before. I needed the gang war to go hot again. "Tell her to pick out a team from the Lowtown Guard. All hush hush," I added, letting the plan take shape. "And she'll hit the biggest gangs wearing gang colors from their rivals."
I would get the influx of cash I needed. And drugs to sell. Revy could feel out who would be a good leader… and, more to the point, it would look like a natural split. A group that had formed in Lowtown that, once they got their hands on guns and cash, decided to split off. That would be the first degree of separation.
The other layers… I was trying to do too much at once. I was searching for people to trust to fill roles… but who was to say that I needed those roles filled now? The people at the bottom wouldn't know how many shadow bosses there were. I could keep adding links to the chain as time progressed.
"And the Street Kings?" Tifa questioned, her tone giving nothing away. So, I'm guessing she wasn't exactly happy with the plan.
I could fit them into the plan. "They'll be next. They can be our proxy that takes over the Narrows. Can't grow too big too quickly. Not with one gang. That's how you earn Batman's attention," I continued, looking down at my notebook. It might be worth looking into starting a gang war in the Narrows too. After some recon, of course. Find out where the safe houses are, hit them, and use those funds…
It would be the same bait that convinced me to go all-in with the mob. The same reason that thoroughly average tea became the single greatest thing I had ever tasted. Once the gang members saw the piles of money and drugs… so long as they thought they were getting a good deal, then they would be mine. And if their eyes got too big for their stomach? Then I would know, because cameras and microphones would be installed all around them. I would know if they plotted treason before they did.
"Are you sure about this Vergil? I know they're orders, but…" Tifa trailed off, probably caught off guard by my… eagerness. I wanted to take over East End, I realized. I wanted to because it would make me shitloads of money. Because, if everything went according to plan, then… then I would be at the top of the city. One way or the other, even if no one realized it… I would be in control of Gotham.
I failed to answer for a moment, before I offered a small shrug. A hand went up to hers on my shoulders. "I think it's the best way to make sure Lowtown becomes what we want it to become. When it's done… Tifa, half the city will want to stay down here." And I would be in control. I would be positioned as… as Saint Vergil. The teenager with a heart of gold that carved a sliver of paradise out of hell.
On the other hand, I would also be… whatever my villain name would be. The one that would put me in control over all of Gotham. I would be a drug dealer. An information broker. I would be a criminal of the highest order. Hell, I'd be one of Batman's Rogues.
"Are you okay with that?" I asked her, tilting my head back to look up at her. "Nothing's started yet. I can just call the whole thing off and that'll be it. We can try finding another way." I offered, seeking… permission, for a lack of a better word. I wanted her to be on board with the plan rather than to silently resent it.
A conflicted expression passed over her face for a moment as she looked down at the slip of paper, "I… I can live with it. If it's for Lowtown," Tifa decided. That was good. Reassuring. Because, if she said to call it off… I'm not sure if I could have. Not with so much to gain. Her head dipped down to seal the deal with a kiss before her hands patted my shoulders as she pulled back up. "I was supposed to tell you that we're going to be moving the train car."
Oh? "Alright. I can finish this up," I said, sealing the money away. "I can just crash in a tent or something while everything is getting set up."
In response to that, Tifa reached down and squished my cheeks to make me look up at her. "By that, you mean you'll be staying in a room. In the building that you own." She corrected for me, pressing down on my cheeks to make my lips pucker.
"We don't have any more rooms," I pointed out, my words slightly slurred.
"There's mine," Tifa remarked.
"Oh," I uttered, realizing what she was getting at. She offered me a thin smile like I was a particularly dimwitted pet that had finally managed to do a trick. Which was fair, I guess. "Are you okay with that?" I questioned, and I was answered by Tifa leaning down and kissing my forcibly puckered lips. I suppose that was all the answer I needed.
"Bring your stuff up tonight," Tifa decided. "I'll go talk to Revy." She decided giving my cheeks a pat, “and you’re late for a meeting,” she informed me as she let go of my face. I blinked, not at all sure what she meant by that, before I recalled that I had a meeting with Preston about the apps that we were developing. I couldn’t even remember what about, but I’m pretty sure it had something to do with stock options.
But, considering that Sainthood Enterprises would remain a privately owned company rather than an open one, I wasn’t sure what options were on the table.
“Shit, you’re right… I’ll see you tonight?” I said, standing up as I closed my notebook and sealed it away. Tifa walked away, but flashed me a dangerous smile as she headed towards the door. Yeah, I would see her tonight. She left after that, heading off to find Revy, who I’m pretty sure was still sleeping. Glad I sent Tifa to wake her up.
However, as I went to put my cards away, my eyes lingered on the card that I had at the bottom. Tifa had come in before I could really start to think about the idea… but I made a mental list of things I needed to start grinding. Some kind of test and analyzer. Something that could give me the exact composition of something.
In my hand was the possibility to literally print money. It would be counterfeit, but it would be identical to real money. If I knew the exact materials that money needed, if I knew the exact ink, if I could copy the holographic pieces… then I could combine them all and just make millions when I needed it. Or, even better… Even better, I could set up a counterfeiting workshop.
My dirty deeds could be paid with fake money. The dirty income could be laundered through my companies… in theory, I’d make nothing but profit. And with that profit, I could take Lowtown to new heights. I could offer one hell of a signing bonus to every employee. I could look into giving quality insurance, dental, medical… company cars…
I could make Lowtown an absolute powerhouse and I could make Sainthood Enterprises Wayne Enterprises' equal. Or, better.
There was a slight smile on my face as I left the train car. Almost absentmindedly, I slapped an empty card onto it and I sealed it away. The entire train car vanished into my card and I saw that it counted as a storage card. That was… actually really good to know. In theory, that meant I could transport shipping crate levels of product. Maybe that was something I needed to talk to Snowflame about.
Ignoring people’s odd looks and the murmurs from those explaining what they just saw, I started walking towards Stairway. I would have to talk to Preston for a bit, then I had to talk to Jack for a bit, then I needed to check up on some things, then… I had a full day ahead of me. Just like I did yesterday and like I did tomorrow. Being the man in charge put a lot on my plate at any given time. I had no clue how Bruce Wayne-
As I walked up the steps towards the bar, my contacts acted up, alerting me that Jason had walked into the building. Ahh… shit. But, expected. Wasn’t like I could exactly hide the fact that the entirety of Lowtown was getting a bit of a remodel. Plus, he probably already knew. So, I walked up the steps and headed inside the bar.
Jason wore an almost signature red hoodie and a near permanent scowl on his face. Which deepened when he saw me coming up. He offered a nod, but that was about the extent of his greeting as he made to walk by me. I was content to leave it at that, only for him to stop and turn around as I headed for the door. “Hey, asshole,” he started, making me pause.
“Yes, dickface?” I questioned, wondering what was with that opening. He offered a mild glare before he shrugged.
“Thanks for the advice you gave me. With dealing with Dick and his friends,” Jason continued, a sharp grin tugging at his lips. With that look alone, I knew Dick Grayson had spent the past weeks tearing his hair out because of Jason. And that Jason knew that and was thoroughly unrepentant. “It helped.”
I opened my mouth to respond, only to have the words die in my throat as another video feed appeared in my vision. A camera that had been posted outside. One that displayed five men that were being led by one man in a white and gray suit. The white was as white as snow, while the other half was a deep ash gray. Right down the middle.
Matching the line down his face that separated a horrible disfigurement and the remains of what had once been a handsome man.
My expression grew grim as I looked to Jason, that slight smile falling off of his face. “We have to get you out of here. Two-Face is coming here,” I told him… and it was a real fight to treat Jason, Robin, like some kid, but that what I had to do. It was the smart move. Because Jason Todd could run for his life and whatever. And, conveniently, Robin could show his face to save the day. “Go downstairs, get the LG, and lock the door,” I said, straightening out my suit as I looked at the few patrons that were in the bar.
A few were normal patrons, the rest were LG.
Their expressions were grim, but none of them got up to flee with Jason. I walked behind the counter, my mind shifting to a higher gear as I took a position across from the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jason looking at me. “Jason? I wasn’t asking,” I warned, unsealing a card to reveal a shotgun, which I then set on the counter as I waited for Two-Face.
That got him to move. He headed down the stairs in a sprint, probably to find an unoccupied corner. All the while, I watched Two-Face approach. The moment that he opened up the door, stepping inside, I offered a wide smile.
“What can I do for you today?”
Comments
Benjamin Lawton
Wrong supervillain – Jason was/is/will be killed by the Joker, not Two-Face.
Sif
I truly hope Two-Face gets a lead shower, nobody kills Jason this time around, hopefully.
