Wretched Joy 25 (Patreon)

Commissioned by southmonk

Wretched Joy

Chapter 25

-VB-

I had a few targets in mind. 

The first of which was none other than the good mayor’s deputy! 

Now, unlike what I insinuated to the mayor, the deputy mayor was not a child diddler. He just let some child diddlers get a pass because some of them were his business associates or children of said business associates. His crime was the more mundane kind of corruption: special privileges to those who bribed him, accepting bribes, and ignoring other people’s corruptions when it suited him. 

Mundane stuff. In fact, ignoring the pedophiles rated low for him after accepting bribes from the ABB, E88, and even the Merchants.

Yeah, he accepted bribes from the Merchants. That’s how low he went. 

He was also one of the “low rung” centers of corruption. Once I took him down, taking others down became easier and faster, especially for taking out other child diddlers in the city. 

I winced.

Huh.

Why did I just wince? 

… Whatever. 

I grabbed my sickle and gave it another boost. I paused as I felt it. 

That latest boost pushed it over the edge. 

I pulled it up and held it in front of my face. I looked at it and saw … power. It was something I could see for enchanted items that went past a certain number of charges. The minimum for an aura to be seen in my eyes was around 30. 

And the Sickle of Nightmares had 35 charges in its “Nightmare” function and another 32 charges in its “Cut” function. I knew instinctively that I could now “cut” so many things I couldn’t before. I was no longer just cutting the physical object but things deeper than that. 

I ran a finger over the top side of the sickle, and watched the wafting aura part and reform around my finger. 

“Hmm,” I muttered, enjoying the sight. It was briefly mesmerizing. 

I winced again.

Shit, it was happening again. Why was I wincing?

… Was I tired? Maybe a little sleep deprived? 

It … would be a good idea to take a nap before I started another purge. Rested mind and body being better for any objective and all that. 

I yawned. And winced. 

Damn, it was getting worse. 

-VB-

I felt weak when I woke up.

I grunted as I pushed myself up and out of the bed and looked around blearily. 

I … felt better? 

Yes, I felt better, even if I also felt weaker. It was the difference between going from an all-meat diet to a much more balanced and vegetable/fruit-centric diet (but not one that didn’t have any meat). 

But why was I weaker? 

I rolled my shoulders around and felt for my charged weapons and armors. 

The moment I touched them, I understood.

Or I understood that I wasn’t wearing a few. 

The sickle was on the floor, the sword was elsewhere, my mask-cum-helmet was on the nightstand, and the jacket was on the bed, crumpled up. 

I reached out and grabbed them.

I grabbed the sickle and felt stronger. 

I grabbed the jacket and felt stronger.

I grabbed the mask … and felt weaker? 

I grabbed the sword and I felt as strained, exhausted, and weak as I did before I went to sleep.

‘Wait,’ I thought to myself. ‘My power can overload?’

It was the first thought that ran through my head, and I mentally calculated just how many charges I was carrying between not just my weapons and armored but also miscellaneous accessories and tools. 

The number I came up with on the spot? 

Five hundred fifty-ish.

I let go of the sword. Instantly, I felt a little better. 

That sword had like thirty charges, mostly between “Cut” and “Suppress.”

I dropped the sickle, too.

Immediately, I felt like I was at peak performance. 

I picked it up.

And winced. 

Yeah, the wince was back. 

I dropped it again. 

… This was going to be a problem.

For now, I’ll leave the sword. Maybe the Uno-Reverse anti-trump ring, too. That thing had forty charges by itself. Damn, I was going to need to rethink about … basically everything! I’ve been spreading my charges out lazily, but if there was a soft cap that I could carry, then it meant that I should have been allocating my charges more carefully! 

Why didn’t my power tell this to me sooner?!

Or was this also an issue that I could solve with my power? 

… Something to experiment later.

Right now, I needed to start my campaign. 

First, the deputy mayor.

-VB-

He came out of nowhere. 

Harry stumbled forward in surprise when the windows of his office shattered inward. He was too busy trying to get to somewhere safe to even scream.

But he let out a pained cry when something slammed into his back and sent him tumbling to the ground. 

“Hello, motherfucker.”

He froze on the ground before he looked up.

Standing in his very own office was none other than the biggest name in the cape scene right now. 

Everyday Joe. 

He stood on top of his office desk with his filthy boots, wearing the almost too white mask that wrapped around his entire head like a helmet and showed not an iota of facial features. 

“W-What are you doing?!” he demanded angrily. 

“Ah?” Joe uttered. “I’m doing what I usually do, Mister Deputy Mayor!” he grinned. “I go after criminals.”

Harry sputtered. “Are you accusing me of being a criminal?!” he demanded angrily, even though he was shivering on the inside. 

“Accusing?!” Joe barked out a laugh before he suddenly quieted down and leaned forward. “No. I’m not accusing. I know, Harry. Not the details but I know that you’re dirty.”

Then the bastard brandished his bat.

The same bat that he beat so many capes to death with.

Something inside of him seized up. “W-Wait, we can talk about this! I’ll turn myself in!” 

Joe was not like the Protectorate. 

He was a merciless maniac.

He killed without warning. He killed without hesitation. He killed cheerfully, even.

But no one said he killed without a good reason. 

“Harry, Harry, Harry… That’s a good idea!” 

“It … It is?” he asked with a frail smile.

“Yes! After I break all of your limbs, though.”

“W-Wai-!” 

The metal bat rung with how quickly it swung through the air. 

And then his bones started to snap.