Chapter 145: I Feel Like I've Seen This Face Somewhere Before
2023-10-23 Author: Rowing Without Oars 233
After returning to his shop, Orin Vale finished his meal, took a comfortable hot shower, and then went straight into the Laboratory. He quickly recorded the application data for his new skills from this trip and reviewed and analyzed his combat performance.
The more he researched, the more he discovered that the mysteries of the Speed Force were simply endless. If the Speed Force field were the Pacific Ocean, he was at most playing in its deep waters near the beach. There was far too much potential to excavate and develop.
After spending another half-night in the Laboratory, he suddenly felt a buzzing vibration from his desk.
The Blood Cultists' stone?
Trigon's followers usually seemed to be busy with their own affairs. Since he got the stone back, they had only held a total of three meetings.
Orin Vale thought for a moment, then activated the stone using the method he had previously discovered, his consciousness sinking into it.
It was the same dark space, with four blurry, black-robed silhouettes appearing within it, each occupying a corner of the darkness.
It was different from the first time he entered. The first time Orin Vale acquired the stone, he participated in a higher-level meeting, whereas the last two times were internal Organization meetings within Gotham.
From those two meetings, Orin Vale learned that the Blood Cultists had three main subdivisions in Gotham. The identity Orin Vale had taken over after eliminating its previous owner was that of the Deacon of the southeast subdivision. There were two other subdivisions in the west and north, and the other two individuals in the space were the Deacons from those locations.
The fourth person here today was from a higher level, a Bishop responsible for liaising with the three of them.
"Come to Central City before the day after tomorrow. Gather at the docks. I will be waiting for you there," the Bishop said concisely.
The western Deacon asked, "Does the Organization have a major operation planned?"
The Bishop said coldly, "Don't ask what you're not supposed to. You will naturally know what you need to know when the time comes. Remember to come alone, not even your most trusted subordinates may follow. Anyone who violates this command will become a sacrifice to the Lord."
"Understood." x3
Orin Vale went upstairs, planning to ask the Old Wizard if he had any impression of the Blood Cultists. As a nine-thousand-year-old magical Guardian, he should have some experience with the methods of Trigon's believers.
He went upstairs, pushed open the door, and saw the Old Wizard sitting in front of the computer, staring blankly at the desktop.
Orin Vale raised an eyebrow. "Did you just... close something when I came in?"
"No," the Old Man said decisively.
Orin Vale was a bit suspicious but didn't press the matter. Instead, he got straight to the point and brought up the Blood Cultists.
"Hoh, those people... their footprints are indeed all over many dimensions," the Old Wizard said, stroking his beard. "Although they may obtain the power of an Evil God, even a clone of an Evil God is greatly diminished across dimensional barriers. What they can grant to their believers is even less."
"So, there's not much to worry about in that regard. With your abilities, there's nothing you can't handle..."
As he spoke, he glanced at Orin Vale, thinking to himself that it probably wouldn't be easy to find something a monster like him couldn't deal with.
"Oh, right. If you want to infiltrate them, there might be a method of identification among the cultists you need to be aware of," the Old Wizard said. "All Blood Cultists carry Trigon's mark. When face to face, the marks will sense each other."
"So if you want to impersonate a Blood Cultist, your disguise has to be complete."
The Old Wizard paused, then said, "If you need it, maybe I can try to help... but I suppose you probably don't need it."
"That's right. Thanks."
Orin Vale could solve the problem of the mark himself. To activate the stone before, he had already found a method to reproduce the characteristics of Trigon's magic with Raven's help. Creating a fake mark with the same radiation frequency to fool others shouldn't be difficult.
As he was about to leave, Orin Vale vaguely noticed the Old Wizard turning his head and pouncing back on the computer, opening a webpage and up to who-knows-what.
His furtive appearance made Orin Vale a little curious.
But the Old Man, who had only recently started using human technology, was clearly unaware of the sinful thing called "browsing history" when surfing the web.
Returning to the Laboratory, he accessed the Old Wizard's browsing history. A quick scroll revealed that the Old Man had been surfing the web intensely this week.
The nine-thousand-year-old Old Man had only recently learned how to use the internet and had even discovered a highly intelligent search engine that integrated a new natural language processing AI from Wayne Enterprises. The Old Man found it novel, spending all day surfing the web and asking the AI search engine all sorts of strange questions.
[Why does my pot always explode?]
[Which brand of pot on Earth is the best?]
[Why do young girls nowadays like to post pictures of themselves in revealing clothes?]
[The world is going to the dogs! Such moral decay!]
[Are there more? Give me more.]
Orin Vale: "..."
Hmm, how should I put this?
It felt like, as expected of a nine-thousand-year-old wizard, his adaptability was strong. At this rate, he would soon be assimilated by the times...
That night, Orin Vale arrived early at Gotham Harbor.
According to the agreement, the three Deacons of the Gotham subdivision were to meet here. Before tomorrow, they would travel as a group to Central City to meet the Bishop, their superior who was responsible for receiving them.
This port had actually been abandoned for many years and was deserted even during the day. The pitch-black Night Sky twisted into an oppressive curve, as if draining the last remnants of life from the port.
Orin Vale was dressed in a black robe and hood, and he had also changed his face. Too lazy to think of a new look, he casually used the face of Agent Mike Williams.
He walked along the cluttered dock walkway; the foul stench of filth wafted from the desolate drainage ditches. An ominous, musty smell filled the air. The near-collapsing wooden planks of the dock seemed to shake underfoot; every step felt as if it would plunge through the loose decking.
It seemed he was the first to arrive. When he reached the designated spot, it was completely deserted. Rust-spotted containers were lined up neatly on his right, and a pitch-black, dense fog hung heavy over the harbor. An invisible pressure made it hard to breathe, and within the deep, lightless shadows, it seemed as if thousands of demons writhed.
And it was from within one such shadow that the second Believer appeared.
He had the exact same standard Blood Cultist look as Orin Vale: hood and black robe, a mysterious appearance. Most of his face was hidden in the shadow of his hood.
However, Orin Vale activated his enhanced vision and could see through the hood's shadow that it was a rather burly, bald man. He had narrow eyes, a sinister and sharp gaze, and a well-defined jawline—a typical "don't mess with me" type.
He had only intended to take a quick look at the man's appearance, but with a casual sweep of his Ultra Vision, Orin Vale was surprised to discover something strange about the face.
It looked like a... fake face?
Looking closer, he was certain he wasn't mistaken.
Simulated skin, artificial material, some kind of human face mask. Even the bald head was fake; it was a latex bald cap, like those used in movies. In reality, under that headgear, there was a full head of thick, black hair.
His vision penetrated the disguise. Beneath the fierce face were sky-blue eyes and a well-defined, very handsome countenance...
*Hiss,* I feel like I've seen this face somewhere before?
Orin Vale couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
Bruce Wayne?
Isn't that fucking Batman?
(end of chapter)