This DCverse is Maddening

Albert really wished he could say that after he and Marceline got into the shelter that his slumber was peaceful. That would be false. That potential case had been...lets say unsettling to be polite. There were so many questions he had about that message, but every-time he eve-

[Potential Case found!]

[Case Opened: Hands in the Dark

Description: For years, those from another world wondered endlessly on the question as to why there didn't seem to be a death penalty for even mass murderers. Theories. Speculations maybe. But never any hard proof.

Requirements: Seek and uncover the individuals involved.

Difficulty: -

Rewards: Գ̵̟͂ö̸̮w̴̡͝ɘ̷̼̑ɿ̴̧͠

Consequences: Complete LCK exhaustion]

[Would you like to take on this Case?]

[Y̵͆͜ɘ̷̞̓ƨ̴͔́/No]

Thought of the case, it would pop up like this. Even in his dreams, it popped up. And even there, the baleful feeling from it made him not even humor the idea of accepting it anytime soon. So all in all, his sleep had been repeatedly interrupted through out the night leaving him a sagging mess. Heavy bags and clammy skin. He must've looked like a complete mess because the matron had taken one look at him earlier that morning and immediately had him do a drug test. They would get the results within the next couple of days and find out if he still had a place to stay.

Honestly at this point, all Albert wanted to do was fall back asleep for the next day or so. But alas, rules are rules and there things he needed to do that day.

'Hopefully this isn't another shit show..'

Thinking ruefully, he stepped into a very familiar building. The same marble pillars, the same teller desks, that same damn carpet. Everything. Maybe except the people that scurried back and forth. Speaking of the people, looking down at his own casual clothing, it was readily apparent that he was way outside of his station. Judging from the occasional sneers from people in fine wear, they knew this too. Internally, he could only shrug at this. He was only here to see if there's anything of value left for him.

"Can I help you?"

A voice edged with condescension entered his years. Turning, Albert saw an old man in a suit that looked like it could buy half of Gotham. His graying blonde hair was combed back giving him a gentlemanly appearance. But those brown eyes completely ruined the get up, as he disdainfully stared down at the youth.

"Yes." Albert stated, way to tired to even humor the man at this time," I have a meeting with Mrs. Holton."

"I'm sure you do.." The old man sniffed," But I'll humor you, give me your name and I'll check the system."

"Albert Nelson."

Without any other word, the man left him just standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. There didn't seem to be any chairs anywhere in the large, open lobby after scanning for a few seconds.

No matter how he had been treated so far by this bank, he had to admit they sure were thorough. There wasn't any evidence left from the incident that claimed so many lives.

'Insurance must've been a bitch to handle..'

That hopeful tidbit of information almost made it all worth it. Almost.

"I need to see some ID." The old man was back and he looked as though he had bitten into a lemon. With a giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest, Albert did so. Watching the man's face sour further at the confirmation. Honestly he wished he could snap a picture of that face there, it would make an excellent lock screen indeed.

"Fine." The man said through gritted teeth, handing back his identification," Follow me."

With that the old man turned and briskly walked away, as if his speed would be enough to shake off Albert. Sadly for him, it wasn't.

It only took a few seconds for them to pass under a pair of heavy looking oak doors and change the environment entirely. The decorations shifted from classy displays of wealth to 'fuck you poor peasants' decor. Old paintings, older statues, and frankly fragile looking knickknacks edged the hallways. He even felt a bit bad walking on this nice, crimson carpet. He did not purposefully scuff his dirty shoes on it. Definitely.

'I just tripped..'

The pair soon entered into a much smaller lobber with plump looking chairs and a nice window view into Gotham. Fresh flowers seemingly plated in gold sat in the middle of a small table.

"Please wait here." The old gentleman motioned to the nearby chairs," I will inform Mrs. Holton of your arrival."

"Thanks." Albert decided to at least try to be polite in this, he could get away with it before but now? He was firmly in their domain and didn't see a reason to give these people a reason to kick him out.

'I might even use this bank in the future,' He snorted at the mere thought,' Yeah right. The only good bank in Gotham is outside of it.'

He wasn't sure if Bruce kept his money outside the city or not, but it was likely that he would probably only keep his wealth in his own vault.

Looking around, he didn't really notice anything of note. There was literally nothing to keep his mind occupied while he waited. No books. Magazines or even pamphlets. It seems like they wanted their customers/clients to have the eye on the prize. Or just to make them so bored that they'll agree to anything just to leave sooner.

'That's most likely it.'

After that thought ran its course, he palmed the cold key in his hands. Letting the sharp teeth lightly bite into his skin, leaving shallow indentations. Albert was a bit anxious to be honest. This inheritance had constantly been on his mind sense that first day.

'Would it have helped me when I first started out?'

'Or maybe it's connected to the system?'

'Money? Jewels? I sure hope it's money, I'm getting tired of carrying everything I own..'

Whatever it might be, this trip would close this chapter of his life. Kind of like one last hora for whatever past this body lived before he came to be.

"Mrs. Holton will see you now." The old man's voice drew him out of his thoughts, much to his appreciation. Pretty sure he would eventually run out of things to think over and left to reminisce on the vo-

'Nope.'

"Thanks."

If Albert thought the bank interior was grandiosely decorate, then the office he entered made the rest of the building look poor. Bookshelves lined the walls on both sides of him, with what seem to be gold inlaid books. Yes literal gold. Of to the side, an incredibly old painting sat under a light hum of lights. Like its own little altar. The painting was of a wide open landscape of hills that reached high up into the star lit night sky. Celestial bodies swirled endlessly through the background giving the viewer a sight only seen in the country side far beyond the reach of man made light.

"That," A female voice shook him out of his revere," Is a piece called 'Boundless Celestia', it was made by the elusive 'Manuel'."

Turning, Albert noticed a middle aged woman sitting behind a large wooden desk on which papers neatly piled up. Small framed photos of the woman with an older man were arrayed, put on display for the client to see.

The woman in question had a severe looking face with the light evidence of crows feet around her green eyes. Her brown hair with a few strands of gray was tied up into a tight, professional bun. The brown business suit she wore, hugged at her thin frame. A pair of thin rimmed glassed perched on her bird like nose with a small chain connected to them.

"Thank you Reginald." The woman sent a small smile at the old man waiting at the door," You may go back to your station."

"Of course Mrs. Holton." The man slightly bowed and closed the door behind him. Leaving the two to their meeting.

"Mr. Nelson." Mrs. Holton stood up from her seat, out stretching her hand," It is very nice to see you under less strenuous circumstances."

"Yes," Albert took her hand in his," It is better to be here without being under duress."

"Please take seat," She indicated to the chair in front of her," We have much to discuss."

The two took their seats and only then did Albert noticed the large metal box set off to the side. There was nothing unique or strange about the contraption. It was made of solid steel and had what seem like tracks dug into its side. Almost as if it was made to slide into something. Other than that, a small key hole was at the front.

"Before we begin," The manager started," I owe you an apology. The way I treated you after… the incident wasn't proper. Just because the situation was terrible for me that didn't mean I had the right to treat you in that way."

"Apology accepted."

The teen didn't really see a need to not accept her apology, she was being sincere enough so he wouldn't hold it against her.

'Plus besides,' He mused,' What else can I do about it?'

"With that out of the way," She smiled, clapping her hands together," Let's get things started."

Mrs. Holton then pulled out a two documents and set them before him. With but a scan, Albert could already tell he was out of his league here. He could read the files just fine, understanding them was a different monster entirely. Seeing the confusion on his face, she decided to toss the boy a bone.

"The first document is just verification that you will indeed take your inheritance," She tapped her well manicured nails on the metal structure," And the second document is something a bit special."

"What do you mean?"

"A collector of sorts has come to some information on what's possibly inside this deposit box and wishes to buy it from you."

"How and why would they know what's inside?" He looked on in bewilderment," I thought the contents were suppose to be confidential? And whose the potential buyer?"

"Well you see.." She looked off to side in embarrassment," Our systems are provided to us by the Wayne Enterprises, so it wouldn't be a surprise if they didn't already know what's inside. As for the buyer? Its the eccentric philanthropist Bruce Wayne."

'Of course.' He wanted to grit his teeth in frustration,' The Bat got his grubby mitts in everything.'

"Why would he be interested?"

He felt it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Mr. Wayne is a collector," Mrs. Holton answered," He's known to buy unique items. Like jewelry, paintings, historical items, books, sculptures. Anything that seems rare to him."

"What's the offer?"

It's not like he'll acce-

"He is offering to sponsor you at Gotham Academy," Her words shook him out of his certainty," One of the most prestigious schools in all of the city. All lot of doors will open for you if you attend and graduate from there."

Now if that wasn't a clear trap, he didn't know what was. Going there would get him out of the way and keep him under the close eye of his 'benefactor' at all times. Sure, it would be an excellent school to attend. Great teachers, food and best of all a roof over his head. Maybe Albert would've been certain to pick this path if he didn't have the system. Plus besides he didn't even want to think of all the bullying he would receive for being sponsored by the Wayne family.

"And," She quickly added seeing his expressions," He is also willing to pay you if you don't want to go school. twenty-five thousand dollars."

'That is a lot of money..' He thought,' More than anything I encountered in my old life. But..'

"Could I look at what I would be giving up?"

"Of course," She smiled, standing up to her feet," Please call for me when you're ready to make a decision."

And with that, Mrs. Holton sashayed her way out of the room leaving Albert alone with the burning key in his palm. He wasn't sure if the room had cameras or not but at the moment his curiosity made him not care in the slightest.

With shaky fingers, Albert inserted the key without hesitation. The instrument slid in easily and without any thorough fair he turned it. With a soft click, the lid nearly slammed into his face. Jerking his head back in time, he just barely avoided a bruise.

'That was close..'

Inside the metal box laid an old leather bound book, there were no decorations nor any indications of anything that would attract the attention of the billionaire. There wasn't even a title on the cover.

'That's a bit of a let down..'

He thought morosely and carelessly allow his hands to brush against its surface. Only to be shocked into oblivion.

[System compatible Add-on detected!]

[Do you wish to integrate?]

[Yes/No]

'What?!'

Albert was flummoxed at the messages, he had no idea that physical objects be could 'integrated' into the system itself.

'What would that mean for the item?' he wondered,' Would it be consumed? If so then so what? It's mine anyway..'

So without any hesitation, he accented to the prompt. Whatever he was expecting, he wasn't ready for absolutely nothing to happen. No flashing lights. No symphony of trumpets. Not even a goddamned breeze. He just stood there like a moron touch a book.

[Add-on Integrated!]

[Grimoire Sub-system Activated!]

Those words instantly dashed the bubbling feeling in his chest.

'That's not good..'

Normally, when one hears the word 'grimoire' they imagine a magical book that hold unimaginable power. A normal human could become a well accomplished mage in other forms of media such as high fantasy novels, books and games.

Hell, if he had gotten a system mirror after Dungeons and Dragons, he would jumping with joy.

But spells in Call of Cthulhu was different. So, so much more different.

They were naturally incredibly dangerous things, acting more akin to double sided dagger that stabs the user along with the enemy. If they're lucky.

These spells usually draw from three separate pools. Yes three. Magic Points, which can recover around one per hour. But if the investigator is low on them, they can use their own Health in order to supplement it. Next, they always draw from SAN. And given how hard it is to recover sanity, it's one of the primary reasons why Keepers don't let players get their hands on magic. But the next requirement has the steepest prize. From some the strongest spells they always, always saps away at someone's POW permanently. Sure there are ways to increase that stat further but there always tend to be on the darker side, like sacrificing someone under the same of an unspeakable horror kind of bad.

All in all, magic was bad for anyone to use. It doesn't matter which system was used. It's detrimental in Call of Cthulhu and Pulp Cthulhu.

Usually as a Keeper, its fun to use. Albert could admit that. But this isn't a game. This was his new life and he wasn't willing to toss it away pursuing the darker arts. Especially when a lot of the spells and techniques would get him put on the League's radar. Or just thrown in Arkham Asylum.

'This magic suits the Joker perfectly..'

Just imagining that mad man possibly getting his hands on this magic nearly made him want to vomit. Suddenly, worry began to fill him at thought.

'Will I have to burn this book?'

Shaking all over, he gathered up his courage and opened the book. Preparing his mind to be absolutely shattered into millions of pieces. For the gods to see him bring such an evil book into existence and to strike him where he stood. But after a few moments, nothing happened and a sense of relief filled him.

Continuing to flip through the pages, he was met with the same thing. Empty pages. Other than the natural wear of old paper, there wasn't anything written inside. As he finished flipping a sudden idea came to his mind, and a smile stretched across his face.

'Get fucked Bruce.'

Albert didn't feel bad about scamming the man, he was the one to make the deal. Who was he to turn down such a gracious offer.

'Plus besides,' He mused,' Surely, he won't be missing such an insignificant amount.'

It wasn't even question anymore on which choice he would make. There was no way in hell he would attend Gotham Academy. Been there done that. If he wanted to learn, he would go to the grand library and not spend a dime. The money would make it easier for him to maneuver through the city and acquire the things he needed. Locating a place to open his agency was in the forefront of his mind and would require a lot of research on his end. Hopefully, he could just sleep in his office instead. Next, some items for self defense.

As for magic? He would ignore that insidious temptation for as long as possible. Nothing good would come from him dipping his hands in that poisonous pool now. Especially not without safety rails.

"Uhm Mrs. Holton?"

With his mind made up, Albert called for the woman just beyond the door. Why does he say that? Simply, after she heard her name the woman briskly entered the room and took one look at the book before sitting down.

"Have you made your decision Mr. Nelson?" She didn't hesitate to ask," I assure you, going to Gotham Academy would do wonders for your future."

"Did you go there?"

Albert asked, curios as to why she was pushing so hard on that option in particular.

"I did attend," Mrs. Holton nodded," It's how I got my job here, making connections are required to live in this city. Do you plan on staying in Gotham after your business here is done?"

"Yeah," He replied," I don't have anywhere else to go I'll just settle down here."

"Then that's even more of a reason for you to go." She insisted," The city is dangerous for-well anyone. But especially so for young people like you. If you get involved with the wrong group then it can dramatically alter your prospects in life."

"If I may ask," He was going to do so anyway," Why are so insistent that I attend the Academy? I understand there's some prestige in attending but I believe just going to a normal school will be good enough for me."

"That would be true if you were anywhere else." Mrs. Holton sighed," But this is Gotham. Legal high paying jobs are rare. And even then most of them require some already established 'in'. You will be passed up by a lot of people based solely on your connections. On who knows who. If you want to make decent living here and not have to resort to crime to keep a roof over your head, then the Academy is the way to go."

Albert could tell this was coming from a place of concern, probably just someone not wanting a kid to fall into a life of crime. To not be corrupted by the poison called hard living. Normally, she would be right. Someone his age would have very few options in this city. And if he was normal then she would be right to be concerned.

"I do appreciate your advice," He acknowledged," But I have made my decision. I will sell the book to Mr. Wayne for twenty-five thousand dollars."

"Oh." She seemed a bit frustrated at his choice," Is there a reason why the money seems more appealing than the Academy?"

"Simple," Albert made up his mind to make his stance clear," From what you told me, Gotham Academy is where all the elites send their children to learn."

"That is true."

"Then it is not a place for me to attend," He shook his head," I'm a poor kid accepted charity from one of the most well known billionaire's in the country. If you believe that wouldn't spread, then I don't know what to tell you."

"I can se-"

"Please," He tried to politely cut off her protests," I would be ruthlessly torn apart by those students. I've seen enough movies and read enough books to know what would happen to me. And I also know, that just because I was sponsored by Mr. Wayne it wouldn't mean I would have to same protections as someone fully adopted by him."

"I understand." Mrs. Holton sighed in defeat, seeing his concerns as valid," Now that you mention it, I do remember someone like that when I was attending. He dropped out within the first month."

"Thank you for understand and respecting my decision." He slightly bowed in his chair," Now where do I sign to accept the transaction?"