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On the last day of May, in the hospital corridor outside a patient room, Vivi opened her system interface.
Last month, she was still a penny-pinching, debt-ridden mayor of Gotham, with only a handful of people under her and barely enough resources to scrape together a ten-pull in her diamond-based system.
This month… she was still unable to pay off her debt.
Because she absolutely refused to use her personal funds to do so.
[Current City Government Public Funds: 7.5 million gold (in use)]
[Current City Government Public Fixed Assets: 14.75 million gold (depreciating)]
[Current Personal Funds: 11.5 million gold / 850 diamonds]
[Current Personal Fixed Assets: 3.2 million gold]
[Estimated Bank Debt Repayment by Month-End: 8.24 million gold]
[Estimated Fixed Monthly Expenditures: 1.25 million gold]
Due to the city’s overall negative rating, the government still wasn’t collecting tax revenue. However, by “cracking down” on organized crime (read: confiscating their assets), the public funds had temporarily surged. Properties like Penguin’s real estate holdings were already mortgaged, while assets such as Black Mask’s steel mill, pharmaceutical company, and South Hinckley land plots were seized outright. Add to that Hugo Strange’s lab, confiscated materials from the sewers, gang-run docks cleared out by police raids, and multiple nightclubs and lounges—all now under City Hall’s jurisdiction.
But as noted in parentheses, these were only properties. The operations had stopped entirely since the criminals running them were now in Blackgate Prison doing hard labor. Activities like drug trafficking, arms dealing, and human smuggling had ceased, leaving land and facilities to depreciate in value as outsiders hesitated to invest.
Vivi’s personal funds largely came from system rewards. Completing several main quests had netted her a hefty sum, and her personal fixed assets consisted of items from her inventory and an East End construction company that had somehow ended up under her name.
Her inventory was stuffed with confiscated weapons, and the construction company was managed under a front by a Violin. Oddly enough, Rose Manor also counted as personal property, though she only ever used it to gift roses at a loss.
Currently, Vivi had three unfinished main quests:
And the recurring New Council main quest was due at month-end.
Simply put, she needed to repay millions by the end of the month. The system was set to automatically deduct funds the moment the clock struck June 1st, provided the government funds weren’t zero.
“Government funds? I’d rather spend them on charity than give them to the Court of Owls,” Vivi muttered, scrolling through her lengthy subordinate list. “Let’s see who I can send to… handle the ‘banking problem.’”
The most convenient candidate was [Doctor Strange], but this morally rigid mage had a strict ethical code. If Vivi pitched her plan to him, he’d probably report her to the police first.
Understood—gold-tier characters always came with backstories. And a doctor-turned-sorcerer? Very backstory-heavy.
Not that Vivi cared about such things. She didn’t care who was behind Batman’s mask, nor did she concern herself with Strange’s past. People only fell into two categories for her: useful for city infrastructure or not useful for city infrastructure.
“Less than 20 hours until the automatic deduction… I need someone quick and ruthless. Hmm?” She thought of someone perfect.
Quick.
Ruthless.
Skilled.
The choice was obvious.
Vivi teleported to City Hall. Her increasingly close relationship with the mayor had become so public that even the building’s AI didn’t question her sudden appearances. She greeted the AI, Jar, and headed to City Hall’s underground facilities.
The AI interrupted her.
[Miss Alek, have you finalized the plans for the June 3rd Children’s Day Festival?]
“Huh?” Vivi responded through her avatar. “Why? Did you spot an issue? Go ahead and tell me.”
[No issues. However, per the promotion plan, people from other cities, including members of the Justice League and Avengers, may attend.]
Vivi recalled these groups were part of the world’s backdrop—hero organizations akin to Nightwing. They occasionally popped up in Gotham but never stayed long.
She asked without much hope, “Any chance they’ll stay and work in Gotham?”
[…Probability is less than 10%.]
For some reason, the AI hesitated before answering.
“Forget it then,” Vivi shrugged. “Just have them help with security.”
With any luck, the abundance of heroes would keep things under control.
In the underground chamber, Vivi located her chosen candidate.
Inside a specially powered room designed to maintain a constant freeze, a man hung suspended against a glass wall.
His title read: [The Talon].
But Tal White’s current title was no longer [Talon] or even [Vagrant]. His new designation was [Police Officer].
If Batman were present, he’d recognize this man as the Talon once dispatched by the Court of Owls to assassinate Violin. Batman had intercepted him, resulting in a fierce fight. Vivi, seizing the opportunity, had captured Talon and imprisoned him in City Hall ever since.
The entire City Hall was unprotected against its AI. Apart from the mayor’s private quarters, study, and a few other unmonitored rooms, the second-hand AI Vivi had purchased from the Gold Coin Mall could see almost everything.
Vivi knew the AI should be aware of all administrative issues she knew and even those she didn’t, as she often delegated her responsibilities to the AI and Shelk whenever she was feeling lazy.
The mayor asked, “Jar, how many people have visited him?”
[Since his arrival, aside from Director Hogg, who oversaw his capture, the only other person who entered this room was Peter Chris, the logistics department head, on May 12, using Hogg’s identity chip. No one else has been here.]
Vivi tried to recall the low-profile logistics minister, Peter Chris. She had barely any impression of him, but his frequent appearances stood out.
It seemed… suspicious.
The freezing apparatus for the Talon would indeed require maintenance by the logistics department. But why would Peter need to use Hogg’s chip?
The mayor’s avatar spoke. “What projects has Peter Chris been involved in?”
A virtual screen unfolded before Vivi, and her mouth twitched as she reviewed the information.
From the start, Peter had been involved in almost every major event. He was responsible for disposing of bodies when Deadshot and others infiltrated City Hall. He oversaw the innocent student among the infiltrators, directing the boy to paint propaganda slogans. The logistics department managed tree planting efforts, procured factory materials, and continued to work tirelessly, even now, under Poison Ivy’s command, replanting the trees Vivi had bought from the Gold Coin Mall. Roses, meanwhile, were handled by the sanitation department.
The virtual image displayed Peter’s unremarkable face and an error-free resume. Vivi scanned it carefully and couldn’t help but find it strange.
Peter Chris had been involved in nearly all of Vivi’s plans. He’d handled almost every item purchased from the Gold Coin Mall—from street trees to signposts. His red name status was not surprising, as half of Gotham was flagged as hostile. But those were usually enemies of the mayor, Warden Bettywen’s criminals, or people aware of Mr. C. So which category did the logistics minister fall into?
For context, Gotham’s red-name population had once exceeded half its residents. Many ordinary citizens inherently disliked politicians, and City Hall staff often had grievances against their superiors. However, after the courtroom victory and Vivi’s growing reputation, most of City Hall had turned green-name, with only a handful of red-names remaining.
“Who’s behind you?” Vivi mused. “It can’t be mere curiosity that led you to steal Hogg’s identity card.”
The virtual image showed Peter, unremarkable as ever, standing before the frozen Talon, snapping a couple of photos before leaving. He was careful not to leave any fingerprints on the equipment.
Vivi had initially planned to release the Talon but now decided to wait. With plenty of time left, the ever-vigilant player narrowed her eyes and teleported away.
With Gotham’s festival set for June 3rd and the courtroom drama on May 30th, many visitors had already arrived in the city on May 31st—boosting the [City Population] numbers for the next settlement.
Vivi decided to deal with Peter Chris first.
Charlie’s Tavern was hosting a celebration.
Charlie wanted to serve alcohol, but everyone’s throats were hoarse. At a friend’s insistence, he reluctantly served hot milk instead.
—Hot milk in a tavern. Ridiculous.
Charlie, Jim, Emily the nurse, and others—ordinary people connected through their networks—had organized the spontaneous choir performance outside the courthouse. Many of them had learned the song on the spot.
Charlie had contacted struggling musicians who frequented his tavern, most of whom were students from the local music academy. Emily’s connections with the church brought in the choir, and Jim had borrowed most of the instruments.
After the event, the tavern reopened at midnight for a modest celebration. But when it came time to drink, everyone realized their voices couldn’t handle it—unless they didn’t care about losing them entirely. Still, even with hoarse voices, Charlie couldn’t stop boasting to the other patrons about what they’d pulled off.
He wasn’t sure why, but he felt an immense sense of accomplishment. Sure, it had just been singing, but in that moment, surrounded by others, shouting their hearts out, he felt powerful.
The patron across from him was supportive, exclaiming, “You all managed that? Incredible. I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Charlie, flustered, tried to brush it off with modesty, but before he could respond, the tavern door opened.
A figure entered, shaking off an umbrella. Strands of brown hair peeked out from under a hood, and a medium-length black cloak nearly got caught in the closing door.
The girl looked in their direction.
The patron sitting across from Charlie abruptly pushed back his chair. “Excuse me. Where’s the restroom?”
Charlie squinted at the man’s retreating figure and coughed awkwardly. “No restroom here—try the back alley!”
His shout drew the attention of every patron in the tavern, all eyes turning toward him.
EasyRead[Translator]
Just a translator :)