Gotham City had been tense lately.
Everyone knew that Carmine Falcone, Gotham's underworld godfather, was in a rage. First, Catwoman and Batman had broken into his home during his nephew's wedding and stolen his ledger. Then, the Falcone Import Company he'd founded was suddenly refused cooperation by every bank in Gotham City. And on Halloween night, his nephew was assassinated while twenty million dollars in cash burned to ash.
An absurdly ugly pumpkin had been left behind as mockery.
Of all the incidents to focus on, Gotham latched onto that detail. The weird, crazy, unique observation. Not the murder. Not the money. The pumpkin.
Falcone cared more about his reputation and the family name, so he'd offered a substantial reward for information. Unfortunately, after an entire week of investigation, he'd found exactly one lead:
"A mysterious man wearing an ugly pumpkin mask appeared in the Diamond District on Halloween night."
The trail ended there. The Pumpkin Man had appeared for maybe ten minutes before vanishing. People remembered him only because the pumpkin on his head was so distinctively hideous.
Falcone was not satisfied with this result. He'd offered a fortune for the killer's head and gotten nothing after seven days. His prestige eroded with each passing hour. And his sister Carla screamed at him daily.
"My Johnny! My son is dead!" Carla's voice echoed through the penthouse. "Carmine, if you can't find a way to catch that damn Pumpkin Man, I'll solve this problem my own way!"
"Carla." Falcone's voice carried the weight of decades ruling Gotham's underworld. "We are the Falcone family, not street thugs. We don't kill innocent people. We don't engage in indiscriminate revenge."
"Innocent?" Carla's laugh was bitter. "Don't you think District Attorney Harvey Dent deserves to die? Look how much damage he's done to the family!"
"You're not doing this for the family, Carla." Falcone's eyes were cold. "We both know you suspect him because he showed up in Johnny's party parking lot. But given his style, he'd think about bringing gangs to justice through legal means. Not picking up a gun, wearing a pumpkin head, and breaking into someone's home to execute them."
"Oh, really? Is it coincidence?" Carla's voice rose. "Just happens that Harvey Dent and Gordon were working together on Halloween? Just happens a commissioner could serve as his alibi? Just happens the ledger you lost ended up in his hands? Ask every family member who was outside that warehouse. Every single one saw him personally examining your accounts!"
Falcone stopped his sister's hysteria with pure authority. His presence filled the room, undeniable and absolute. The aura of a true godfather forced Carla into silence.
"We can't be certain Harvey Dent killed Johnny," Falcone said quietly. "But he does have our ledger. And unless there's a high-level mole in the family, he's the only one who could have found where we stored the twenty million."
"And Gordon! And Batman!"
"Carla." The temperature in the room seemed to drop. "I said enough. I won't repeat myself a third time."
The woman in black dress and gold jewelry trembled with rage, but she obeyed. She sat down heavily, sulking in furious silence.
"Whether or not Harvey was involved in Johnny's death, he needs to pay for taking our property." Falcone turned toward the window, looking out over the city he controlled. "I will handle this matter personally."
Nearly a week had passed since Halloween. Jude felt marginally more relaxed.
At least the Romans hadn't actually suspected him because of an ugly pumpkin. Which made sense, really. Nobody would connect a newcomer working at a gang-affiliated restaurant with a cold-blooded, elusive killer.
He had neither motive nor capability. And honestly, nobody could be certain the killer wasn't hired by Falcone himself.
After all, Johnny had reportedly planned to testify against his uncle before the wedding. Planned to tell a jury everything he knew about Roman's operation—blackmail, bribery, murder, the full catalog of crimes. Everyone had expected Falcone to silence him permanently.
But then Falcone had paid for Johnny Vitti's lavish wedding himself. On the scheduled court date, Johnny hadn't appeared to testify. The two had looked happy together. A loving family.
Contradictory? Sure. But who could guess the godfather's mind? Could someone who'd once threatened Falcone really survive in his good graces?
Still, just to be safe, Jude had convinced Drake to move out of Gotham with Camilla. He'd even lent them some money.
He was genuinely worried that one day, Drake's enemies would come seeking revenge. Drake's talent for attracting murderous attention was extraordinary. Gun-wielding revenge would be bad enough, but Jude didn't want to be collateral damage.
Besides, he didn't have urgent need for the money. He lacked the most common American financial burdens: car loans, mortgages, student debt, credit card bills.
He hadn't attended college in this world, so no student loans haunting him for decades. He didn't buy expensive items and never carried credit card debt. He rented in the East End, which seemed fine for now—he'd renew the lease after Drake left. He already owned a car, and it was given with three thousand by the dealer.
By his calculations, he had even saved money beyond the fifty thousand in assets. At minimum, he wouldn't have to pay rent this month.
Drake's had been left penniless paying for Camilla's medical treatment. Jude, operating on the principle of "earn what you can," had structured the loan with high interest rates. If Drake managed to escape Gotham alive and earn enough money, he'd pay it back.
"Wait." Jude's expression went blank as memory surfaced. "How much was the interest rate?"
He recalled the scene with growing horror. The interest rate had... definitely not been agreed upon at the time.
"Damn it! What a loss!"
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
New side job available. Please review details.
"Fuck off! I almost died doing two of the three jobs last time, and I actually thought I was doomed after the third one!" Jude glared at the notification. "If I ever accept another side job from your system again, I'm a dog!"
Mission reward: Advanced Culinary Mastery
Jude paused.
Advanced Culinary Mastery
Price: $8,000
Note: Don't get your hopes up—the cooking skills that make dishes literally glow are a different price tier entirely.
Jude stared at the screen for three full seconds.
"Thank you, System Daddy. System Daddy is so generous. Love you, muah!"