Sorcerer in DC Chapter 51: SDC 51

SDC 51

"What are you going on about?" I demanded, a pang of confusion—and fear—shooting through .

"At least have the decency to admit it," Sinonas smirked. "Not that it matters. You're a dead man anyway. I'm nobody's pawn. Take out the trash—Executioner."

The monster shrieked, shaking the hall, and charged at , swinging down with both arms. Cursed Energy flooded into my machete and limbs as I stepped back, stopping just short of the descending arc. It hacked up floorboards, and I stabbed forward, aiming straight for the monster's mask. It snapped its neck, slashing upward, carving a wicked line straight at .

I twisted and lashed out, scoring a gash on its forearms and drawing blood. It let out a shriek packed with Cursed Energy that twisted the air. My eardrums ruptured from the force, even through Inverse.

Executioner's Cursed Energy output spiked. A purplish aura coated his body and legs as he sprang forward. I stood my ground, blade raised, parrying three rapid slashes that ca down on . I crossed my arms and tanked the fourth—it was a front kick.

Vanishing my machete, I grabbed hold of the offending leg, heaved, twisted, and flung him through the drywall of the adjacent room—and followed after.

The air shivered. I twisted to the side as a blade of Cursed Energy swept past , followed by five more. I leapt forward, twisting midair to dodge three, flipped to avoid the fourth, and tapped into Overdrive as I leaned back to evade the fifth.

The sudden shriek that followed hit in the chest like a shotgun blast and hurled through a wall. I climbed from the wreckage, unscathed, and paused—eyes sweeping the room.

It was fancy.

Old-money fancy—like Bruce's place. The window was ajar, and on the bed lay two familiar figures with bloody holes in their chests—the Kakuri twins. Penguin must've sent them after Mask.

Fuck. They were going to kill eventually… but they'd been nice in their own way.

Through the window, I heard the rev of engines and the telltale flash of red and blue. The police were here, likely for Black Mask.

Batman's operation must've gone well.

I pulled several explosive collars from my inventory and filled them with Cursed Energy. They went flying just as the second Executioner barreled into the room. He swiped at the collars right as I fired. The explosion filled the room with light and fla, and I shut my eyes, weathering the storm.

When they snapped open, half of the Executioner's face was gone—but he was already healing.

I wasn't about to stand by and let that happen.

I advanced with a spike of Overdrive, lashing out with a series of rapid slashes, pressing him back.

Bloody wounds opened across his massive torso. One under his armpit. A stab to the stomach. A slice to the thigh. The machete chipped and warped as I kept the pressure on—parrying, twisting, dodging.

I ended the chain of attacks with an enhanced kick after flipping over a slash. It sent him crashing through another wall, and I tossed a Cursed Energy–soaked collar at him, exploding it with a gunshot.

In retaliation, Executioner let out a shriek so loud it cracked the walls and ceilings and even quelled so of the rising flas engulfing the third floor. I spotted Black Mask bolting—I fired imdiately.

I got him in the left knee, and he tumbled down the left stairwell.

Executioner struck a mont later, slashing down with his left blade packed with Cursed Energy. I flared Inverse and tanked the hit with my forearm. It drove to my knees and sliced through Inverse, drawing a thin line of blood.

Swapping my machete for my Beretta, I put two shots into Executioner's eye socket. It didn't deal damage, but it distracted him long enough for to grab the offending arm, twist it, and slam him into the floor with a burst of Overdrive.

The floorboards gave way and we dropped a level. I rode him down, packing as much Cursed Energy as I could into a summoned brass knuckle—and punched.

His head imploded, and his body rapidly bled out Cursed Energy. He was a formless husk by the ti we hit the ground, and I locked eyes with Sinonas, limping down the stairs.

There was a flicker of fear on his face before he pulled his gun and opened fire. I blurred forward, zigzagging, dodging the shots, and slamd his head into the back wall, knocking him out cold.

A loud whip cracked below as the mansion's front doors flew open. Dozens of n marched in.

Ti to get going.

I hefted Black Mask by the scruff of the neck. For a mont, I was tempted to snap it—finally be done with the bastard—but the questions stopped .

Who was his mysterious benefactor? What exactly was that mask?

How much did the other sorcerers know about ?

With a sigh, I raced up to the third floor, leaving a trail of blood behind —mostly from Black Mask. I used Reversed Cursed Technique for the first ti as we stopped outside the fancy room's window.

I smashed two streams of negative energy together, multiplying them into glowing, translucent, sunshine-colored positive energy.

First, I directed it to my forearm and ears. Then I turned the technique on Black Mask. The bullet popped out of his wound, and the hole clotted.

I leapt from the window, falling two stories, and threw a tunnel of Curtain around both of us.

—

Sinonas sat in front of , stripped to his underwear and strapped to a chair in my little hiding spot. The windows were boarded, and the walls padded up to keep the noise in.

To the side was a small table—with a revolver, a knife, and everything I'd used to torture myself to get strong enough to take him down.

Sinonas woke up with a laugh and a stifled groan. "You kept alive after everything? You love the thrill as much as I do!"

I sat on the edge of the table in workout shorts. Wouldn't want to get the rest of my very limited wardrobe bloody.

"In the weeks I spent putting all this together, I must've killed you a thousand tis over in my head. Oddly, none of those scenarios included a chair, rope, and torture—which is hilarious, considering how much pain I put myself through," I laughed. "How else did you think I survived getting my brain blown out by a sniper?"

I tapped the side of my head. If my Vitality hadn't been as high as it'd been when I was shot, I hate to think what would've happened.

The grin on Sinonas's face faltered.

"I guess I liked to think I was beyond that," I said. "That there were so depths I would never sink to. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to this…"

I picked up the revolver, opened the cylinder, and slipped in a bullet. With a snap, the cylinder clicked back into place. I gave it a good spin and leveled it at him.

"So, let's start with Russian roulette and see where the night takes us, eh?"

"You're insane, kid," he said, regaining so of his levity. "But still an amateur. I'll die before you get anything out of ."

I laughed. "No. You won't." I pointed at his leg—the one I'd shot—and pulled the trigger.

The gun went off, and his scabbed wound exploded with blood. He scread.

"The reason you weren't screaming your head off when you woke up was because I healed you," I said slowly, watching him squirm and buck against his restraints. "Flesh wounds, fatal stabs, hell—even dismbernt. None of it will be enough to kill you. Not if I don't want you to die. This place is in the middle of fucking nowhere, and I've got nothing but ti."

I crouched down and stared him in the eye.

"It might take a day, or a week, but you're going to talk. And only then, will I let you die."