[A Gamer in Gotham]—❈—16:: In Which We Run an Illegal Business

Two weeks ago, if someone had asked me what I was most likely to do if I found myself isekai'd to Gotham City, I don't know what my answer would have been, but it would probably have been something along the lines of ‘jump off a bridge and hope I wake up anywhere else.’

And I probably would only have been half joking too.

What I'm quite certain it wouldn't have been, is ‘start a detective(ish) agency with two women I met barely a week ago, like some kind of Dirk Gently wannabe, and name said agency Systematic Solutions.’

But I did, and now here I am having to deal with all the uncostumed crazies of Gotham.

Typical.

“Cynthia, for the last time, no, we will not help you murder your boyfriend,” I say, barely resisting the urge to massage my temples even though I'm pretty sure it's literally impossible for me to get a headache anymore.

“But, he's cheating on me,” the redhead complains.

“Yes,” I agree easily, “with three other women, but if you noticed on the sign outside, it says you can come to us for all your legal and—and this is the real important part—semi-legal needs.

“Last I checked murder is straight up illegal. So, no, we're not helping you murder your boyfriend. Go slash his tyres like a normal person.”

Cynthia scowls at me, then she scoffs in disgust.

“I'm giving you guys zero stars,” she says as she storms off.

“On what?” Annie asks and I finally give in to the urge to massage my temples.

“Why does everyone in this city want to kill somebody?” I mutter.

“Living in Gotham’ll do that to you,” Keisha says.

I shoot her a stinkeye where she's lounging back on a plush sofa; her ‘office chair’, as she calls it.

Keisha laughs at my look. “Don’t blame me. I told you to play psychic instead. If you had no one would be asking you to help them murder their cheating boyfriends, or steal their neighbour’s undies.”

Annie and I shudder.

“Oh, God, don't remind me,” the blonde says.

Yeah, the Ugly Betty-esque chick who had come in here hoping we'd be willing to steal her hot neighbour's boxers for her if she threw enough money at us had been horrifying.

Honestly, I would have reported her to the police if I thought anything would come of it. Or, if [Observe] had given me any reason to think that she was particularly dangerous.

The worst part was when I'd actually gotten a quest for it.

Ugh. I've never said no to anything that fast before. Points be damned.

I sigh. “I told you, Kiki, I doubt the universe will want to reward me much for sitting around and telling people stuff,” I say.

“And I told you that if you call me Kiki again, I'll stick something in you somewhere it'll hurt,” Keisha says.

“Fine then,” I accept. “I'll call you Lala.”

“You really wanna die, don't you?” Keisha asks, but the small quirk of her lips gives her away.

“Oh, stop pretending,” Annie says, “Troy used to call you Kiki, and you giggled like an idiot every time.”

Oh my God, tell me more.

“I was twelve,” Keisha screams in her defense. “And I'm pretty sure Troy's in jail by now.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask in confusion.

“She's trying to tell you she's into bad boys,” Annie says conspiratorially.

“Ah. Noted,” I say.

“I hate you guys,” Keisha says and Annie and I laugh.

This is pretty much how we've spent the last three days since we opened Systematic Solutions, the definitely not certified detective(ish) agency (which I'm pretty sure is going to bite me in the ass at some point in the future, but…meh).

We found a nice, affordable office building, furnished it, hired Maggie Ryan, Beanie's Mom, to be our secretary/cleaner/receptionist/everything else for ten grand a month to close out the [Help The Ryans Out] quest, put a sign on the window, and spend all day fucking about while we wait for the odd crazy to wander in, ask what we're about, and then make some ridiculous request… or simply walk off after we hand them a card.

Needless to say, pickings have been slim quest-wise, and except for the 10k EXP I got for giving Ryan's Mom a well-paying job, my growth has lulled.

That 10k EXP did knock me up four levels though, from 27→31. Adding twenty to my Stat Points, and leaving me with forty total to play with.

I almost immediately split it evenly between CONSTITUTION and VITALITY.

See, my reasoning is simple; I've barely been here a week, and between [Junkie], Keith, Big Ray, and The Whitfields, my life has been in genuine danger several times. And sure, maybe improving my STRENGTH and DEXTERITY will help me protect myself better by dealing more damage, but I've got Keisha for that (and if she fails, skills).

Ergo, I've decided to focus on something else, something that, thanks to [Gamer's Body], I can use to devastating effect if done right; CONSTITUTION.

I don't injure, I don't bleed, I don't cut, I don't bruise. I feel no pain.

Simply put, if I have the HP to back it up, I could literally take a shotgun blast to the face in the middle of a sentence, and only need to stop to blow away the gun smoke.

See, the truth is I'm making enemies, and I'm likely going to keep making more, and since the girls have decided to throw their lots in with me for as long as I'll have them (they'd actually said that), and they're definitely not bulletproof, I'll be. So that if someone ever needs to take a bullet to the face, that'll be my role.

Therefore, I took my VITALITY from a measly 08 to 30 with the addition of 22 points, and my CONSTITUTION from 42 to 60 with the addition of 18 points, thereby making my HP a decent 600, which, even without testing, I already know is nowhere near enough to take a shotgun blast to the face.

Not without dying anyway.

Someone walks into the agency, and Maggie greets them smartly and professionally.

I swear that lady is hellbent on being worth every cent of that ten grand.

All three of us in our office, a huge space furnished more with comfort in mind than professionalism, perk up, the girls looking at me as they wait for me to give my verdict on the newcomer we can all spy through the window.

[Observe]

“Oh, thank God,” I say before I can help myself.

“An actual client?” Annie asks.

I nod. “Yep. His grandma died, and he thinks his uncle killed her.”

“Did he?” Keisha asks.

“Nope. His twin brother did.”

The girls make appreciative sounds at that.

Maggie directs the customer to our office, and as he opens the door, I say; “Hello, Jake. Welcome. Why don't you sit down?”

—❈——❈——❈—

Eugene Berger’s Status Screen

Level 31 (200/3100)

HP: 600 (regen: 30/min)

Money: ~ $44,000

Stat Points: 00

STRENGTH: 15 (+)

DEXTERITY: 25 (+)

VITALITY: 30 (+)

CONSTITUTION: 60(+)

CHARM: 45 (+)

SKILLS: [Gamer’s Body], [Observe], [Quest Generator], [PG mode], [Outfit Customization], [Sexy Defender], [Intimidate], [Cutlery-kinesis], [Skillbook Creation]

—❈——❈——❈——❈—

A/N:: this chapter is basically an attempt to ease my way into this next phase of the story.

I don't know how well it's working.

Thanks for reading.