Butler Boy - Chapter 28 (Patreon)

I was barely awake when the time came to leave.

Between learning a few handy spells, making my first enchanted artifact, and sending a late-night fax to the Wayne Manor, I'd had quite a bit of ground to cover. More than that, even, given the other preparations I'd needed to make. I only had ten slots to summon items, after all, and that meant I'd needed to prepare containers full of goods that I might need.

And as long as mom doesn't decide she needs any fertilizer in the next week or so, I'll probably be in the clear.

That was for emergencies, but...

I'd rather have and not need, than need and not have.

Plus, I'd had to make a run to the camping goods store to prepare an entirely separate back-up camping pack with a few particularly nasty extras.

“-so, what I'm asking everyone to understand is that, given the confirmed sightings of the Batman and myself at the manor, I'd like this to be the last time this malicious rumor is brought up. Dodge is a lunatic who tried to make his five minutes of fame by capitalizing on the suffering of a child and his own psychotic ramblings.”

Someone in the television crowd shouted out in response. “What about a reply to the allegations that you're funding the Batman as a form of reprisal for your parents' deaths?”

Bruce sighed as he shook his head. “As anyone who has lost someone close to them can tell you, wounds like that don't heal. They scar. But I'm hardly alone in that regard. It's an unfortunate truth that almost everyone in Gotham has lost someone to either organized crime or a random act of violence. My company's audit has come up clean, so regardless of how plausible a story it makes, I feel you're going to have to look elsewhere for someone to hold responsible for the Batman.”

“At least it seems as though someone benefited from that horrible night,” Mom sighed, shaking her head. “Though I shouldn't slander the man, after all he's doing to help Arden. And it wasn't his fault the manor was attacked while we were there.”

Absently, I pushed back on the pang of guilt away.

Mom was right, it hadn't been Bruce's fault.

But it also wasn't truly mine, either.

Even supernatural luck can't make the impossible happen. All it can do is rearrange time, place, and the people involved.

Bad luck was when something happened to you.

Good luck was when everyone walked away.

Being a hero meant taking that trade when it showed itself.

“Still... I think we'll be avoiding any more Gotham vacations for a good, long while,” Dad sighed, dressed in a clean set of clothes that weren't quite a full police uniform, but close enough for anyone in town to recognize him. If I recalled correctly, he still had today off before he had to go back in to help deal with the Spring Break rush.

“Oh, before I forget... Arden,” Mom spoke up, turning to me. “Mr. Carmichael called. He said that he followed your instructions and converted most of the Lexcorp stock into Wayne Industries and that it's rebounding well. Also, something about a robot in Metropolis fighting Superman? Apparently it was firing green lasers out of its chest and everyone is blaming Lex Luthor.”

I twitched, then groaned.

Ugh... I'm going to have to get in contact with Clark at some point. Dammit.

“What's that all about?” Dad asked.

“Lex is going full supervillain,” I sighed.

My parents exchanged a look before my father replied. “Full... supervillain? Arden, Mr. Luthor is a very well-respected man. I thought you liked him. I remember that paper you wrote last year...”

I shook my head, picked up my bowl of cereal, and drained it entirely of both what was left and the milk at the bottom.

“He's done too many great things,” I declared, smacking my lips and running my tongue over my teeth to clear my mouth out. “Lex has run out of mountains to climb and he's bored. So he wants to best superman to prove that he's still the best.”

My parents shared another look as my mother shook her head. “Honey... someone as important as Lex Luthor has better things to do with his time than pick fights with a superhero.”

My father laughed aloud as he grabbed his keys. “You shouldn't jump to conclusions, son. I'm sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Just like what happened with Bruce. There's no reason for someone with that much money to go wasting it on... killer robots of all things.”

This was an argument I could win, I knew.

I'd done a lot of research into the history of this world.

But... my eyes flicked to the microwave clock.

There was no time to get into something that would probably take a chalkboard and a few hours of presentation to prove my point. So, ultimately, I let it go. “Tell Mr. Carmichael to dump what LexCorp stock we have and...”

I trailed off and thought about it for a moment.

One part of me wanted nothing to do with whatever Lex's shenanigans were.

Another part of me... there was something there. I frowned.

Okay, I'm Lex Luthor. Ugh, I feel dirty already. But, sure. One of my evil plans has been exposed. Rampaging cyborg. Let's see... Metallo. That's right. I wanna' say... Corben? That sounds right.

Right, I'd seen him on the news a few months ago. Lex had built some kind of bipedal mech and he'd tried to steal it. I think that was a DCAU episode? Right, it'd been Lex's idea all along. But Superman foiled the theft, sabotaging the sale to Kaznia and...

Huh.

Huuuuu~uuuuuh.

“Arden?” Dad asked, looking amused at the way I was slowly tilting my head to the side. “You were saying?”

“One minute, please?” I asked, still frowning as I did the math in my head. Well, 'math.' For a given value. Heh, math joke, values. But... bipedal mechs weren't all that good an idea. They were terror weapons, not good weapons of war. That would be why Kaznia – an authoritarian country in the middle east that took the place of what I remembered as Iraq – had wanted them, though.

Dictators liked stupid shiny weapons that made their dicks look bigger.

Metaphorically, usually.

And the Lexo-Skel Suit 5000 wasn't awful. It was just an odd beast to try and slide into a traditional order of battle with how comparatively slow and lumbering it was to a traditional main battle tank or other wheeled vehicle. Good durability and endurance, though. The compact power cells would probably revolutionize more than the armor itself.

But...

Say I have the power armor stolen, it gets 'reverse-engineered' by a foreign government hostile to the US. They sell or have the design stolen by the Soviets. Cool. And then the US starts looking to implement an experimental brigade to match the Soviets...

No. Not that. Too easy. This was Lex we were talking about. The foreign nations would be running on his tech and digital technology was just reaching the point where he could hide all sorts of things inside them if he wanted to.

And let's be real. The CIA would love to be able to have the off-switch to an entire country's military in the palm of their hand.

Of course, no one in this world had tried such a thing before, but a lifetime ago I'd seen tractors refuse to operate after being snatched by an invading army.

Damn. No wonder Lex was pissed enough to turn a guy into a killer cyborg.

So now that's gone belly-up and Lex is on the back foot. Stock is dropping, investigations are happening, he'll find a patsy to blame and deflect it all. But damage will happen, just like with Wayne Industries. The difference between what Bruce did and what Lex will do...

“Tell Mr. Carmichael to short as much LexCorp stock as he can,” I found myself saying as the thought finally finished brewing.

“Short it?” Dad frowned as I grabbed a napkin and a pen to write down my instructions. “You think it's going to fall?”

“Running with the assumption that Mr. Luthor is innocent,” I allowed, a bit of sass in my voice at the insane idea. “Then someone in the company had this project running behind his back. There will be an investigation and Lex will throw the guy to the wolves while inviting a formal audit to ensure accountability, like what Bruce just did. But this time, they'll find something and the company will suffer before things get set right.”

What I didn't tell them was that I suspected Lex already had his patsy picked out and the evidence aligned to support it anyway. Likely some dead weight he wanted to get rid of anyway. And he'd offer to buy the guy out when the stock hit a low point, deliberately tanking the value of his own company to claw back more authority over it.

Similar to what Bruce had done, yes, but someone would have their life ruined over it.

Given the habits of the rich, I wouldn't even say they'd be undeserving of what was coming their way, either. Lex probably had a score of targets on his board of directors he could knock down when it came time to blame them.

But the point of what he was doing would be to accrue more control over LexCorps so that he could begin tooling up for a proper contest with Superman. Fewer people to contest his power, less reason to compromise.

Yeah, that sounds like Lex.

I nodded at what I'd written and handed it over to mom. “Here, this is what he should do.”

It's not like Lex won't be shorting his company's own stock through a few shell companies, I'm sure.

I wondered if Bruce did the same or if playing those types of games with money was beneath him. If he did, it was a great way to create a deniable Bat-fund separate from the company's stuff.

That would neatly explain why he knew the audit of his company wouldn't find anything, though.

“Well, if you're sure sweetheart,” Mom sighed, taking the offered napkin and looking it over tiredly. “You're the expert with all of this. Though I never thought my son would be giving me financial advice before he grew a beard, though.”

Dad barked a laugh and clapped my shoulder. “Alright, well... get ready. I'll drop you at the bus and then stop by the office and make sure nothing's caught fire over the weekend. Leaving in fifteen, okay.”

“Roger,” I nodded, hopping up and dropping my dish into the sink before making my way upstairs to the toilet. Technically, I could use the one downstairs, but neither Algie nor Addie had risen from their beds yet, and I could turn the fan to cover the noise while having a much-needed conversation with myself.

A theatrical snap of my fingers summoned my old wallet and the tickets inside it.

“Last chance before I'm trapped on a bus with other people for a good eight hours,” I muttered, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I released a gusty sigh before pulling out one at random. In my disgust over yesterday's pulls and the gacha taking a cheap shot at my virginity, I'd shuffled the entire stack into a messy pile before shoving it back in. Gone was the neatly-ordered set of stacks that marked the order I'd gotten them in and I didn't want to make myself late by reordering them right now.

I hummed. A silver.

Then again, not a huge surprise, since I'd only pulled a single one of those yesterday and had the most remaining.

“Thanks for the Assist! - Help a Major Superhero in a Crisis!”

Absently, I realized that this one had probably been downgraded given the skills and abilities I now had. Taking a breath, I tore the ticket and caught the plastic ball that emerged before popping it open. Instantly, I felt a new 'slot' occupy itself in my mind. Not active, I had already loaded those up, but...

“Tinker?” I blinked, the word summoning up images of an old web novel my corner of the internet had been obsessed with for a few years. “Games? Hmm... allows you to build technological constructs or contraptions related to games or entertainment purposes. You are over one hundred times more efficient than the average experienced full development team when it comes to making games and entertainment programs.”

I sat there, on the toilet, for a moment as I silently read the tiny slip of paper again.

“Neat.”

Also currently useless. I didn't want to slot this thing in right now and risk a... what was it called? A tinker fit? That would be bad. So... once I got back home I could probably abuse the hell out of it, but... yeah, currently useless. Unless the bus broke down and I needed to turn it into a pinball machine of death to destroy a zombie biker gang or something.

“Next,” I shook head, grabbing at the billfold and pulling out-

“Oh, it's you,” I grunted in annoyance. The bronze 'virgin slut' ticket I'd gotten yesterday for maxing out my sexual skills despite not having had sex yet. Fun. In a fit of irritation, I popped up a small flame and pressed it to the ticket. It refused to light. “Yeah, thought so.”

It tore, I heard the sound of a tumbling ball, and caught the resulting egg. “Micro Ferrokinesis. Allows you to manipulate metals on a small, but extremely precise scale. Can't hurl cars, but you could grab a chunk of metal and turn it into an extremely ornate ring with microscopic carvings.”

I clicked my tongue and sighed as I felt another ability option settle into place.

“Very useful, I no longer need a soldering gun,” I admitted, tucking the slip away already. “But short of turning my belt buckle into a knife... well, okay, mildly useful. Not horrible, at least.”

I grabbed another, intent on getting through as many tickets as I could before I had to leave for the trips. I damn well wouldn't ask for another curse, but I'd equip myself with as many tools as I could given what could happen.

“Silver – Meet Helena Bertinelli (Huntress),” I hummed, nodding. I'd seen this one earlier, another thing to talk to Bruce about... somehow. I tore the ticket, heard the sound, and caught the ball. Cracking it I-

Immediately lunged off the toilet and caught the metal bar that had appeared out of nowhere.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered, taking a breath as I held the surprisingly light bar of blue-bronze colored metal to my chest before depositing it on the bathroom counter. “Daily reminder that I'm tempting fate, I guess. Ugh... let's see, 'aerolite bar.' A refined bar of aerolite from the sky islands infused with sky energy. When infused with energy... more energy, I guess? This ore is capable of releasing wind and even emulating weather effects under special conditions. It also synergizes very well with... lightning and air.”

I turned and looked at the bar of metal. It wasn't all that large, about the size and thickness of my forearm, but...

“It is a horrible idea to use my untested ability to turn this untested block of metal into a casting focus for my barely-tested spells,” I informed myself sternly.

It took me a few minutes to turn it into a band I could wear around my leg using micro-ferrokinesis. As much as I wanted to have a bit more of this on-hand, I'd also have to put the spawn point for the item in my closet or something.

Or... well, it's light enough...

Eight hour 'restock' timer, just like the other metal. Three bars per twenty four hour period.

This was a stupid idea.

Nevertheless, I actually used the bathroom before heading to my bedroom and picking out a duffel bag from my closet and putting a mark on it for Summon Item. This would be my eight of ten. I'd already put one on a replacement fully-loaded camping backpack, a bag of dried food, a bag of cold food in my hideout's fridge, a large emergency medical kit, a box full of party favors, my ticket wallet, and a waterproof carry-on bag containing my spellbook and other goodies.

The duffel would stay in my closet on a cushion of old clothes for now.

I looked at the time on my watch and carefully set a repeating eight-hour alarm. It was five-thirty in the morning right now, so the next restock would drop at one-thirty.

I can do that.

“Note to self,” I spoke aloud, watching the beginning of the countdown, “thank Bruce for paying for the high-end shock-proof diver's watch with a thousand features.”

I winced internally as I thought about the total I'd wrung up on that card yesterday.

Not the fertilizer, though. That I'd paid for with cash.

While I had my wrist up, I checked the remaining time on dad's ultimatum. Then grabbed another ticket. This time it was a gold. I gave it a glance. “Keep your supernatural abilities hidden through a major, life-threatening crisis.”

Yeah, that tracks. I'll probably keep getting tickets for being stealthy until I get a stealth skill or power.

I guess there were silver linings to Algie lucking into what he had.

I tore the gold ticket, heard the rumble, and popped the plastic egg...

...only to blink as I caught the ticket. “Another hideout vou... oh sweet fuck.”

What I held in my hand cheerfully-decorated blue paper with gold decorations and silver script. It was the kind of thing someone might get handed at the store for a grand opening event. But, no. It was more terrifying than any coupon could ever be.

It was a 'Servant Voucher.' A redeemable ticket which, upon tearing, would summon the most appropriate Heroic Spirit aligned to you as a person. Explicitly in the 'Holy Grail War' style. Except you'd have to 'mana transfer' them energy through sex.

“This,” I declared somewhat numbly, folding up the ticket and carefully stowing it with the unused golds and silvers, “is an Oh Shit Button. Which I will not use unless either I or another are in mortal danger.”

There were just so many reasons not to tear that ticket.

So many.

I shook myself and grabbed for another. This would be my last for the day, likely. It was another gold. I gave it a quick look. “The Crime Families – Face to Face – Meet the heads of all five major mafia families of Gotham in a single sitting.”

On a less eventful morning, that might actually be a shocking realization.

But after my last pull, I found it hard to care.

A moment later, the ticket had dispersed into motes of light and I'd cracked the resulting plastic egg... only to wince as I looked at the paper, pressure in my head building. “Ah, that was a skill, and... yep. For fuck's sake. Expert Massage. A lifetime of expertise in another non-combat skill. Oh, and it synergizes with my new Master Tier Kama Sutra knowledge so well.”

I sighed and slid the little paper notes back into my wallet, unsummoning the billfold before standing.

“Well, I do have a magical focus that I can turn into a weapon... and an absolute last resort to fall back on,” I nodded to myself, then paused. “Also, if I meet a dinosaur, I guess I can massage them into submission.”

I shook my head.

“One last thing to do.”

A quick few steps found me at Algie's door, where I gave a few firm knocks before getting a sleepy groan in response. Sliding the door open, I looked into to find my brother still in bed, staring at me blearily. “Arden... what the hell? It's not even six yet.”

“No, but I'm about to leave for my scouting trip,” I told him, “and I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

“Urrrrrrrgh,” he moaned, closing his eyes in a long blink before letting them open and focus on me. “This had better be good or you'll come back to three day-old spray cheese in your shoes, squirt.”

“First off: Very gross, I approve,” I snorted. “Second off, I just wanted to remind you that I have literally supernatural luck and there's a possibility that I'll be kidnapped by a secret clan of assassins or something while on this trip or something. I'm deputizing you to keep mom and dad calm while I fight my way out of whatever madness I end up.”

Algie muttered something and sat up, running a hand over his face. “Arden, what the hell?”

“It could be ninjas, it could be dinosaurs, or it could be zombies,” I waved him off. “Just... don't let mom and dad freak out too hard.”

Algie took a deep breath and stared me down, blinking slowly as he truly woke up. “Okay, but if something crazy happens on this trip? You're telling them when you get back.”

I opened my mouth to respond...

...and closed it. “You know what? Fair. It's kinda fucked up to put them through stuff like what happened in Gotham without them knowing what's up.”

Algie sighed, relief showing on his face as he nodded. “Alright, get out of here.”

“Cool, see you later. I'll bring you back a souvenir from whatever happens,” I called back to him.

Algie groaned and rolled over, pulling his covers tight.

…

“-and you're sure that you're-”

“I'll be fine, Dad,” I stated firmly, my day-bag sitting in my lap, full of a smattering of things I might need while on the bus. Thankfully, this wasn't one of the formal events where we had to wear our uniforms. Instead, I was wearing a pretty standard set of blue jeans, boots, and a double-layer of t-shirts along with a thick brown leather coat that ran down to my knees and had a fold-away hood with fur on the inner linings.

It was a bit overkill for the current weather, but the mornings in this area of Colorado were still very chill.

“I promise,” I looked at him and nodded as we drove down to the school parking lot, quick trip that it was.

He took a deep breath and sighed. “Alright. Just wanted to check. That mess at the manor... seeing you kids anywhere close to it really scared me, especially after what happened with you in the bunker.”

He grimaced and shook his head, continuing before I could find something to say. “Just... try to keep your head down on this trip?”

Guilt pooled in my stomach, low and heavy.

“I'll try...” I began slowly. “But... my luck's been on a weird run lately, ever since what happened.”

“Well, I'll hold out hope that it's run its course,” he stated, pulling into the parking lot near where one of the school buses was loading up with a few kids already. I moved to open the door as the car stopped, but a firm hand on my shoulder made me look back at my dad.

“What's up?” I asked as he reached underneath his seat and withdrew a plastic bag and took a breath.

“Okay, I know you're a smart boy, Arden. Maybe a little too smart sometimes,” Dad muttered, pulling out the box and looking it over. “Mr. and Mrs. Hob are going to be on this trip as part of the adult chaperone team, so I don't think you and Astrid will have any opportunities to get up to anything, but...”

He handed me the box of condoms.

I took a breath and waited for the flush of embarrassment to come.

Ah, right. I'm a master of the sexual arts and could do a gynecologist's job better than they can. What's there to be embarrassed about?

“...better safe than sorry,” he stated firmly. “Not that I'm giving you these to use them or anything, just... well, just in case. Also, don't tell your mother about this.”

“Oh, she'd kill us both,” I stated firmly, secreting the box away at the bottom of my camping backpack.

Dad barked a sudden laugh, seeming to surprise himself as he clapped me on the shoulder. “Right, she... well, probably not that far, but I'd definitely be on the couch for a month, at least.”

“They'll probably just stay crammed in the bottom of my bag, honestly,” I stated with a shrug. “Even without Astrid's parents along, I don't think we're anywhere close to that yet.”

“I figured, but... things happen,” Dad sighed, and I wondered if there was a story there. If I remembered correctly, Adelaide had been born a firm eleven or twelve months after their wedding... which I remembered only because her birthday and their anniversary were so close. Before I could ask, though, Dad clapped me on the shoulder again. “Alright, get going. I've got to get to the office and you don't want your old man hanging around anyway. Harshing your cool or whatever kids say these days.”

“Never say that again, please," I shivered theatrically, then leaned across the console and gave him the best hug I could manage while we were still in the car. “Thanks Dad, I love you. Have a good day at work.”

He smiled and squeezed me back. “Love you too, sport. Now, go have fun.”

I wrestled my camping pack up and onto my back, the weight noticeably less than the last time I'd hefted it fully-loaded. Then I grabbed my day bag and the loose pillow I'd had at my feet. “Okay, that's it. Loaded for bear, wolverines, and maybe even a honey badger or two.”

Dad laughed and waved me off.

I turned and straightened up as I headed over to the bus.

“Holy crap! Arden's actually here!” Bella Voit called out in high-pitched surprise, making the rest of the troop look my way.

“Hah, pay up!” Mike grinned, nudging the dark-skinned Terry and opening a hand up. The other kid groaned, but slammed a candy bar into his hand with a roll of his eyes and a huff. “Knew you'd make it, bud!”

I sighed and shook my head. “Mike, Thomas. Hey Bella.”

Greetings were exchanged all around before I finally made it to the front where things were being loaded. There, I found the person I wanted to speak to the most, of course. “Hey Astrid.”

“Arden,” she sighed, a bit of coiled tension in her spine unspooling as she stepped forward to wrap me in a hug that I awkwardly returned around the various things I was carrying. “I saw the news yesterday. I knew you said you'd be here, but...”

“A promise is a promise,” I informed her with a smile as she pulled away, her face slightly red. “I said I'd be here, so I am.”

“Oooooh,” the collection of children behind me cooed, utterly ruining the moment.

I rolled my eyes and flipped them the bird.

“Arden, that's highly improper!” Thomas sputtered.

“Also, I got a call from AJ,” Astrid stated, crossing her arms.

I refused to squirm. “Cool. I thought you two would hit it off and she needs a friend she can talk to, even if it's just over the phone.”

Astrid stared at me for a moment, her judging frown turning into a pout. “Most girls would get angry if they found out their brand-new boyfriend went around at a fancy party with another girl, you know?”

“Good thing I'm not dating those other girls then, they sound awful,” I grinned as she tried unsuccessfully to cover a snort. “I mean, really... if I meant it like that I wouldn't have given her your number and let you two talk about me without being there, would I?”

“Yeah, okay... she's cool,” Astrid sighed. “But I do want to go to one of those fancy parties eventually, alright mister?”

I chuckled and followed her beckoning motion onto the bus. “Sure, you'll have to get your hair done, a pair of high heels, probably some makeup, a new dress...”

Each successive condition brought another wince out of her, though the downcast look I got towards the end made me about-face abruptly. “...or how about we each wear suits? I'll wear white and you wear black?”

“D-do they let girls wear suits to those kinds of things?” Astrid asked, blinking at me in surprise.

I shrugged. “It'll probably be scandalous, but... well, if you're not doing something worth talking about, are you even trying?”

Astrid grinned back and giggled, her words coming out in a quiet undertone as we settled into a seat on the bus. “Mom'll be pissed.”

“Probably,” I chuckled, sliding my pack into place before putting my pillow against the hard side of the bus, Astrid taking the isle seat. “So, I've got five hours of country music on a walkman I modified from a computer hard drive. You in?”

“Good or bad?” She asked, already accepting the single wireless headphone and fixing it to her ear as I did the same to my own.

“Both,” I smirked.

She smirked back. “Cool.”

Then, after a moment's hesitation, she settled in next to me and leaned her head onto my shoulder, taking a deep breath as she relaxed into me. As she did, I felt something inside me relax too, tension I hadn't known I'd been carrying. “The troop's going to gossip.”

“Hmm... what'd you say?” Astrid murmured as I cued up Ty England's 'Redneck Son.' “If you're not doing something worth talking about...”

I laughed as my own words were thrown back at me. By now, the rest of the troop was filing into the bus, most of them stopping and staring at me and Astrid curled up together. Astrid's mother, Hannah, took one look at us and reached for her camera. Her father, Gary, gave me a slightly more pensive look, but shrugged and turned to attend to something else.

~~~

This one ended up taking over my mind again, so here's another chapter of Arden and his shenanigans as he sets off for another adventure. Does that boy know no shame?!

Anyway, this one promises to be wilder than the last and he's ripping a few more tickets to try to prepare. Will such actions bear fruit? Or will they only result in more madness? Probably a little of both, honestly.

The camping arc will feature a lot of characterization for Astrid Hobb, Arden's girlfriend, so she's reintroduced this chapter as the scout troop leave for parts unknown in the predawn light. Hope everyone enjoys this one, I had fun writing it.

Next update will probably be the extra-long Entrepreneurial Spirit, following by the Marvel-side Industrious as the month comes to a close. Look forward to both of those! Thank you again for your patience and support!