"And then he captured Alyce," Knowbuddy finished, glancing toward the group of thugs who had been fighting him minutes earlier—now all on their knees courtesy of Joseph.
Seven idiots had tried to run. Joseph responded by increasing the gravity around them until they were crushed to the pavement, air ripped from their lungs. They passed out within seconds. The rest surrendered immediately.
The whole mess was just another case of a small man with delusions of grandeur.
Bad Blood—a metahuman with the ability to control his own blood—had ruled his gang through fear. His followers, fellow refugees of the Netherworld, obeyed him without question, even when it meant murder.
It was one such killing that first drew Hawkman's attention during his time as Chicago's protector. But Bad Blood had slipped through the cracks every time justice came looking for him.
Eventually, he began talks with then–Mayor Wallace Cole—until Joseph exposed Cole's corruption and had him ousted.
That should have been the end of it.
Instead, a man who couldn't even fully control the Netherworld decided he was destined to rule all of Chicago. He began aggressively recruiting metas, swelling his ranks.
In response, the Netherworlders were formed—a resistance group led by Knowbuddy, whose metahuman ability allowed him to alter his appearance at will.
The conflict reached a breaking point when Bad Blood, in a fit of rage, kidnapped one of them. The street fight followed soon after.
Joseph didn't need telepathy to know Knowbuddy was telling the truth. He read it in the man's expressions, in the righteous fury etched across the Netherworlders' faces, and in the guilt and fear stamped onto Bad Blood's gang.
"Alright. I've got the gist," Joseph said.
He pointed to a fur-covered man with claws and a red hat kneeling at the front of Bad Blood's defeated crew—clearly the second-in-command.
"You. Name?"
"I'm Doggy Bill," the man said quickly. "Sir."
"Bad Blood is finished," Joseph said calmly. "You're in charge of keeping your people in line. You'll answer to Knowbuddy. From today on, Knowbuddy runs the Netherworld."
Shock rippled through both groups.
"But—" Doggy Bill and several others began to protest.
Gravity spiked.
They collapsed, gasping as the pressure crushed the air from their lungs.
Joseph didn't raise his voice. "I didn't ask."
He released the pressure. They sucked in air desperately as they scrambled back to their feet.
"It was my mistake not patrolling here often enough," Joseph continued. "That changes today. Anyone who acts up gets locked up. Knowbuddy—give them their orders."
"Release Alyce," Knowbuddy said, recovering quickly, "then help us clean these streets. People live here."
"Understood," Doggy Bill replied stiffly, standing at attention under Joseph's gaze.
Joseph eased the gravity field completely.
Doggy Bill moved out with two Netherworlders—Mustang Suzy, whose golden skin flowed seamlessly into a motorcycle for a lower body, and Null, a man in dark clothes and glasses who manipulated gravity with precise finger movements—to retrieve their captive.
Joseph turned back to Knowbuddy.
"As for you—"
"Yes, sir," Knowbuddy replied. His face shifted instantly: squarer jaw, heavier brow, thicker neck, sun-weathered skin—the look of a hardened soldier waiting for orders.
Joseph no longer reacted to that kind of deference. People treating him with excessive respect no longer made him uncomfortable. Fear or admiration—it didn't matter, as long as it could be leveraged to keep order.
"I'll have LuthorCorp reach out," Joseph said. "I'm close with the owner. It's a waste to leave people like you down here when your abilities could actually help the world."
"LuthorCorp?" Lefty asked nervously. The bearded man with a red bandana, circular glasses, and two left arms shifted uneasily. "I heard they're just like Meta/Tech. You sure they won't—"
"They're nothing like Meta/Tech under the new management," Joseph cut in. "No one will be experimented on. If that ever changes, I'll shut it down personally. You have my word."
That seemed to settle them.
"I'm taking Bad Blood to Belle Reve," Joseph said, lifting the unconscious man with an anti-gravity field.
"Wait," Mongrel called out. The half-Vietnamese teenager in an olive trench coat and skull-buckled belt stepped forward. "Can you take those two as well?"
He pointed at two of the men who had tried to flee earlier—both still unconscious. One looked homeless; the other resembled a heavy metal musician.
"Buzzkutt vibrates his hands to cut people apart for fun," Mongrel said. "Thrasher uses music to hypnotize people into doing all kinds of messed-up stuff."
Joseph nodded, lifting them as well.
A boom tube opened, swallowing them whole as he stepped through, giving one last look at the ruined street and several metas.
The Netherworld was a suitable place for his plan.
**
| Metropolis - October 23
Jason felt like he'd been dreaming for the past four days as he walked out of his room.
He ate real food cooked by an actual butler. Drank clean water. Took hot showers. Slept in his own room—in a nice house in Metropolis, of all places. It was the kind of life he wouldn't have dared imagine before.
Across the hall was Cassandra's room.
Jason didn't know how Joseph knew her. Maybe he'd decided to spontaneously adopt her too—billionaire teens probably did things like that. Who knew what went on in their heads?
Like hiring a butler named Sebas Tian for a house that, while large and two stories, wasn't exactly a mansion. Then again, Joseph was barely ever home. Maybe Sebas was there to keep an eye on Jason and Cass.
Jason had been intimidated by the stern-faced butler at first, but Sebas was kind—if a little robotic at times.
"Master Jason, would you like to eat now?"
Jason sighed. He'd told Sebas multiple times to just call him Jason, but the man refused. "Master" felt wrong—like a coat that didn't fit. Street kids didn't get called that.
Still, he wasn't about to turn down dinner. The smell alone told him it'd be amazing, as usual.
He walked past the perfectly set dining table toward Sebas, who stood over a pot, a pink apron tied neatly over his black suit.
"Sure," Jason said. "What're we having?"
"Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and gravy," Sebas replied.
Sweet.
Jason turned to sit—and immediately jumped back.
"You need to stop doing that!" he snapped.
"Sorry," Cass said, smirking in a way that made it clear she wasn't sorry at all.
She had a freaky talent for moving without sound, like some kind of ninja. Ever since she'd scared him the first time he arrived, she seemed to enjoy popping up out of nowhere just to mess with him.
Jason shook his head and sat down. Cass followed, unfazed.
Back in Gotham, someone appearing in your blind spot meant you were about to get jumped. That instinct was hard to shake. Still, he couldn't hold it against her—she was only seven.
And despite enjoying his reactions, Cass was kind. Pure, even. No ulterior motives. That alone made her a breath of fresh air compared to most Gothamites.
Though she did love monopolizing the TV like she'd never seen one before.
As Sebas began serving the food, the front door opened.
"Sup, guys," Joseph said casually.
"Hi," Jason replied.
"Hey," Cass said absently, completely focused on Sebas pouring her gravy, practically drooling.
"Wait," Jason said, squinting. "Is that a cat?"
Behind Joseph padded a sand-colored animal with long tufted ears and red eyes.
"Did you guys always have a—" Jason started, turning to Cass.
She was gone.
He turned back just in time to see her already rubbing her face against the clearly unhappy creature.
How did she even move like that?
"Yeah," Joseph said. "It's a caracal I call Teekl. It followed me home. It's friendly." He emphasized the last word for some reason.
The cat seemed to understand, reluctantly relaxing as Cass continued petting it.
"Are we keeping it?" Cass asked eagerly.
"Sure."
"Yay!" Cass squealed.
It was the happiest Jason had seen her yet.
Shaking his head, he turned back to his plate and took a bite of roast beef. He wasn't much of a cat person, and the red eyes were… unsettling—but if it meant fewer ninja jump scares from Cass, he could live with it.
Jason closed his eyes, savoring the food.
Sebas Tian was a god in the kitchen.