Chapter 55: 55

Joseph floated high over Chicago, his gaze lost in the drifting clouds. His phone rested lightly in his palm, the soft hum of a news broadcast playing through his earpiece. "Starfire joins forces with new heroes Rocket and Icon to prevent—" He tuned out the rest. Good for Kori. She had been working hard to establish herself as a hero. He had no doubt that she'd shine, as she always did. It was currently May and life had been slow lately. School was the same as ever. He showed up, did the work without much thought, and socialized just enough to not seem like a ghost. Academically, there was nothing new to learn—he was already years ahead. If not for being able to work on Bell Studios during class since he always finished his work early, school would've felt like a complete waste of time. Speaking of Bell Studios, MyCraft had crushed Goode World Studios' attempts at imitation. The sheer force of community engagement had made it untouchable. Now, Goode World was rumored to be shifting gears toward virtual reality. Good for them. Heh. Crime in Chicago had also slowed to a crawl. Turns out Batman's methods were universal—fear was an excellent deterrent. A few broken bones, some public beatdowns, and a couple of criminals learning what it felt like to be weightless 300 feet in the air had done wonders for the city's crime rate. It seemed Hawkman had been going too easy on them. Captain Atom wasn't with him today. He was off at some League meeting, which meant they trusted Joseph enough to let him patrol solo. Even if they did disapprove of his methods a little. 'But hey—Batman does it too, so they can't say anything.' Time to prove their trust wasn't totally misplaced. Joseph tilted forward, descending toward the crime-prone districts. His enhanced senses stayed sharp, scanning for trouble. Just as he passed an old apartment complex, his instincts flared. Danger. Something was coming. Fast. He twisted mid-air just in time to see projectiles streaking toward his back. He narrowly dodged, feeling the rush of displaced air as they zipped past him. Joseph spun toward the source, eyes locking onto the dilapidated building across the street. A flicker of metal glinted from a shattered window. Oh no you don't. He shot forward, smashing through the broken window in a blur. As he entered, he was met with a sudden, concentrated burst of jagged shrapnel. Who is this guy? Joseph flared his localized anti-gravity field, the pieces of metal slowing and deflecting harmlessly around him. He advanced, eyes narrowing at his attacker. The man before him had a strange, menacing presence. He looked to be 6'7" in height. His body wasn't just armored—it was composed of overlapping, metallic scales, shifting like living steel. His limbs flexed unnaturally, each movement deliberate and lethal. And then, with a sudden motion, the man fired his own scales at Joseph—razor-sharp projectiles that tore through the air with explosive speed. Joseph braced, reinforcing his anti-gravity field to block the barrage. The scales struck with alarming force, denting the walls and embedding deep into the floor where they landed. This guy wasn't just some random hitman. Joseph surged forward, closing the gap in an instant. He was about to grab the attacker when— The man exploded. Not figuratively. His entire body detonated into a violent storm of shrapnel. Joseph's reflexes saved him. He pushed his anti-gravity field outward, shielding himself just before the blast could rip him apart. Metal fragments tore through the room, shredding walls, furniture, and anything unlucky enough to be in their path. When the dust settled, Joseph hovered in place, scanning the destruction. No body. No trace of the attacker. Just jagged, broken metal scattered across the wreckage. What the hell was that? Something was off. Then he heard it. A faint whistling sound, sharp and fast. Joseph twisted to the side just in time as a barrage of metal shards tore through the space where his head had been. The wall behind him was instantly shredded, the shards embedding deep into the concrete. He turned, eyes scanning through the haze, searching for his attacker. A low chuckle echoed from the dust cloud. The shards on the wall twitched, then suddenly shot toward him again. Joseph barely managed to activate his anti-gravity field in time, redirecting the projectiles away from him. Shrapnel reformed right in front of him, his towering metallic form stepping out of the smoke, his red eyes gleaming. His body looked like it was made of living steel, each scale shifting and moving like they had a mind of their own. "You're faster than I expected," Shrapnel said, his voice like metal scraping against metal. "Doesn't matter. I'll carve you up just the same." He launched another volley of razor-sharp scales, each one flying with explosive force. Joseph raised his hand, strengthening his anti-gravity field. The incoming projectiles slowed midair before reversing course, sent flying back toward Shrapnel. The assassin didn't even flinch. Instead of dodging, his body exploded again into thousands of shards, avoiding the counterattack completely. Joseph cursed. This wasn't just a brute with tough skin—he could completely disperse his body at will. Before he could react, the pieces shot toward him from all sides, trying to impale him from every angle. Joseph threw up a concentrated gravity pulse, pushing the shards away from him. But just as he did, Shrapnel reformed behind him, his massive hand closing around Joseph's throat. The villain lifted him off the ground with ease, squeezing. "I was paid to put you in the dirt," Shrapnel growled. "And that's exactly what I'm gonna do." Joseph gritted his teeth. He could feel the pressure against his windpipe, but before Shrapnel could crush it completely, he fired a concentrated Nova Force blast directly into the assassin's chest. The explosion sent Shrapnel flying back, his body breaking apart into hundreds of pieces mid-air. But this time, Joseph didn't let him scatter. With a wave of his hand, he manipulated his anti-gravity field, forcing the shards together before they could spread too far. The fragments twitched, struggling, but he compressed them tighter, preventing them from escaping. A low growl came from within the mass. "You little—" Joseph clenched his fist, increasing the pressure. The shards compressed even further. "Who sent you?" Shrapnel didn't answer. Joseph tightened the field again. The pressure was immense now, enough that the individual metal pieces started bending under the force. "Alright, alright!" Shrapnel spat. "It was Carla Viti! She wants you dead!" Joseph's eyes narrowed. Falcone's sister. He had been expecting retaliation after the crackdown on crime in Chicago, but hiring a metahuman assassin? That was a bold move. "Where is she?" Joseph asked. Shrapnel let out a dry laugh. "You think she tells grunts like me that? You're an idiot." Joseph scowled but loosened his grip just slightly. The assassin wasn't lying—Carla Viti was smarter than that. But now he had a name, and that was enough. Crime in Chicago was getting desperate. That meant he was doing something right. And if people like Viti thought they could take him out this easily, they were in for a rude awakening.