The Good Life: Sense of Purpose (ch. 2) (Patreon)

This world had very little in common with her own, Nico Robin was forced to conclude, and not for the first time as she took a sip of tea, gazing out to the aptly named City That Never Sleeps -- New York. At night, the sky was simply a dark curtain while the stars were instead streetlights, headlights, and skyscrapers -- another name that seemed rather deserving from her position. Most buildings were made out of steel and glass, motorized carriages stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic, while a grand total of nine million people inhabited an island that was smaller than most of the islands she had ever seen in her original world.

Everything was so different that Robin struggled to pick out the single greatest change -- was it the lack of the Grandline and the structure of the continents? How all of the major land masses were pushed together rather than countless smaller islands that were only connected by the Blues? Or was it the lack of the World Government? The closest thing Robin had seen so far was the United Nations, which could hardly govern a lunch date much less police the world.

No… no, the greatest change wasn't something so grand. It was something deeply personal to her.

"There are no poneglyphs," Robin spoke to herself, gently closing a history book on the subject of ancient Egypt -- a fascinating culture, certainly, but the Rosetta Stone and the hieroglyphics were no poneglyphs. "There is no Void century," Robin continued, voicing the words to confront them as her gaze found a familiar window across the street in Central Park South, a penthouse apartment at the top of a tall building that overlooked the so-called Central Park. Almost as soon as she did, she saw a familiar face step through the door -- the entire apartment exposed by windows that gave a full 360 view.

Law entered his apartment, carrying what looked to be some kind of suit in a cover tossed over one shoulder while his other carried a good half dozen bags.

She closed her eyes and felt… directionless. Her goal -- to learn why her homeland had been destroyed and what it was destroyed over -- was now completely out of reach. Robin had never really expected to learn what transpired during the Void Century. It was always a distant and impossible goal that would never manifest in reality. It was simply a reason to keep going. The thought of it was enough to get her through her childhood. To not just give up and die. Robin convinced herself that she would one day learn the truth of the world, a truth that the World Government kept hidden.

A truth they feared so much that they were willing to resort to mass murder and horrific atrocities to keep it from seeing the light of day.

"'ello, Robin," Law spoke up, knowing that she was listening. Even if he had no idea how close she was to him. The utmost limit of how far she could project an appendage was in the ballpark of half a mile, meaning that a fair amount of the time she was forced to move along with him to a destination, but there was still a great deal of space to work with. However, to him, it would simply seem as if she were always there, listening to him. "Anything worth sharing today?"

Robin took a sip of her tea, watching Law dump his items on the table while she had a hand emerge from a cream-colored wall. "Nothing unexpected. William is plotting your murder and is trying to figure out who you are. His gangs, however, are most displeased by the kick-up. He is currently suppressing them, rather brutally, might I add. Other gangs are smelling blood in the water. I imagine a great many gangsters will be ripped apart into bloody bits," Robin answered with a sinister chuckle.

Gangs and pirates. They weren't the same, but they were similar.

The World Government wasn't hunting her any longer. She had, at long last, escaped their reach. The governments of this world still reminded her too much of the World Government though, and even if they didn't… Robin spent her entire life with pirate crews and criminal organizations. They were what she knew. She would use her talents for information gathering and assassination to catch their attention, she would ingratiate herself within the organization, but, eventually, one of three things happened -- the World Government would find her, the organization would betray her, or she would betray the organization.

Sometimes the World Government just got lucky and picked up the trail. Most times, the organization decided that she was more valuable for her bounty than her services. Other times, the criminals were simply so deplorable that she destroyed them herself after she used them for all that she could.

"On a scale of one to ten, five being direct intervention necessary, what would you put it?" Law asked her, pausing when he noticed something on his kitchen counter. "You got me tea?"

"Coffee is no good for you," Robin stated, watching him closely. What would it be, she wondered?

Would Law betray her or would she betray him? There were no other options. Not with the World Government out of the picture.

"I drink it all the time," Law complained, not missing a beat that she had entered his apartment without permission. Or that she had been watching him since he entered the building.

"It's processed chemicals," Robin returned, her tone teasing. She was probing him. Provoking him. And looking out for him -- she’d tasted coffee before. It wasn't a beverage she was overly fond of, but it was serviceable. What this world called coffee was manufactured, artificial, and mass-produced. Robin wasn't entirely sure what it was -- but, what she was certain of was that it was in no way coffee. She doubted that there was a single coffee bean inside of the pre-ground packaging.

"I do love my processed chemicals," Law continued to gripe, but she watched him open the jar of tea leaves to give it a curious sniff. "Ohh~, minty," he complimented, turning his attention to the infuser and scooping up an excessive amount of tea leaves before putting the kettle on.

Robin tilted her head, her lips curling ever so slightly. "How thoughtless." The hand with a mouth didn't relay her opinion, keeping it to herself. Law was a young man, she reminded herself. Young men thought they were invincible right up until they died. Law gave no thought that she might poison him and kill him for no reason other than she no longer needed him.

William Fist was a rather shrewd criminal -- she would give him that. Effective. The effects of a fifteen percent kick-up were taxing on an organization, no matter what size, but William Fist managed it with as much grace as possible in his situation. He balanced the ledger with blood to ensure that his lieutenants were kept happy so the entire organization didn’t implode.

It could have been him, Robin mused to herself, watching Law steep his tea. William Fist was the type that she would normally ingratiate herself with -- he was established, and powerful, and she could understand him and how he thought.

It was nothing but dumb luck, really. She had stumbled across Law when he was making his own clumsy investigations into the mysterious Kingpin. Robin didn't think anything of him -- not really. Even his ability, as incredible as it could be, wasn't enough to convince her to back him. He had simply been a tool to be used and then discarded once she had no need of him. Just as she had experienced so many times before.

"Not bad," Law remarked as he took a sip from his steaming cup of tea before wincing. He summoned up a small room that enveloped the cup before he flicked the teacup. Robin couldn't see it happen, but she knew what it did when Law took another sip, and this time he didn't scald his tongue. He had pushed some of the heat out of the tea, cooling it.

“I would rate the current situation a seven,” Robin remarked, at last answering his question after giving it some thought. In truth, it was at most a five. Direct intervention was needed, but that was more William needing to coordinate with Law than the other way around. “William was forced to make a large restructure to his organization to accommodate your tax and maintain his own ambitions. Other gangs have noticed and they smell weakness. I would expect a disruption in your next payment unless something is done.”

Law tilted his head to the side at that, “Didn’t I tell him he didn’t need to- ah, whatever. I can arrange that. I’ll let Will know to arrange a sit-down. Say… The top eight biggest gangs in New York. I’ll give it a day, and we can get this all squared away nicely.” He spoke as if he had a plan, nor did he seem surprised by the news. Meaning that he had anticipated it. “In other news, what's the occasion? S’not like you to get me a gift.”

"How hurtful," Robin returned, taking a sip of her tea before she looked down at her reflection in the low light. "Perhaps I simply wanted to poison you."

"So long as the poison tastes good," Law decided with a shrug, taking another sip. Her eyes narrowed a fraction, putting a pin in that in case she did eventually poison him. "You know… I never really understood what you wanted," Law voiced, approaching the topic that bounced around inside of Robin's head for weeks now. “You just showed up in my life -- well, one of your hands did -- without any warning or explanation. I thought you might take your half of the kick up and split without so much as a goodbye.”

Robin had considered doing exactly that, but in truth, she paused because she didn’t know how to answer his question. The poneglyphs didn't exist in this world. There was no Void Century. A cruel twist of fate because for the first time in years, Robin had found a lead on another poneglyph -- one in Alabasta. There was a standing offer from Baroque Works to join them, but right when Robin decided to accept that offer, she woke up here. In this world. With no way to get back.

"I could ask you the very same thing," Robin returned, her voice smooth. She wouldn't have answered the question even if she did know what she wanted now. “What does it mean? To be a Supervillain?” Robin asked, her gaze intense as she looked across the street. It was those words that made her decide differently on her original plan. Law was meant to be discarded after he gave her an opening to William. Then she would betray him by breaking his neck in front of William before introducing herself -- eliminating a threat to the Kingpin and saving his life. A fine introduction and a better demonstration of her skills.

Then he said something interesting. Robin thought he was just another young man in search of power, money, and fame. Instead, he revealed that he desired something wholly different.

"To be a contrarian asshole?" Law questioned, scratching at his cheek as he bought himself some time by taking a sip of tea. "It's hard to explain."

"I'm listening," Robin encouraged, watching Law so very closely. He really did need to invest in tinted windows. He was silent for a very long minute, as if he were trying to put his thoughts into words. To express what he truly felt.

“Because… people suck,” Law decided that was an apt explanation. “From top to bottom, categorically. I learned that the hard way -- my parents tossed me out of the trailer when I was about eight. Told me that they didn’t love me, I was their biggest regret, I ruined their lives, blah, blah, blah. Tough things for a kid to hear, but in hindsight, I’m thankful for it. They opened my eyes to some harsh truths, and the ultimate truth of all is that people fucking suck.” He spoke dispassionately, almost unconcerned as he spoke of his hardships.

He clearly waited for a response from Robin, but she was content to listen. She didn’t necessarily disagree with the notion that people sucked. “But, the thing is… people don’t want to believe that. So they lie to each other, to themselves, and wrap pretty little bows on those lies -- human decency, the value of life, morals… They don’t want to face what they really are. Apathetic, greedy, narcissistic assholes that only care about themselves and a handful of people that they are invested in.”

“Heroes,” Law continued, a frown tugging at his lips, “are the ultimate manifestation of that lie. They convince the world that truth, justice, and compassion are real and tangible things. They convince them that they’re safe from all the horrors of the worldn and when things are at their worst, that they will be saved. A supervillain? That’s the antithesis of a hero. I want to rip down the curtain, expose the lie for what it is, and rub humanity's collective face in it.”

Robin expected anger in his tone. Rage. Hate, even. There was passion in his voice, but it was a subtle thing. He sounded more excited than he did angry. “Because they failed you?” Robin questioned and it would be a lie to say the words didn’t resonate with her. More so than she cared to admit.

“Nah,” Law said with a shake of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. “Most people in the world just don’t matter, and I was one of them. That’s life -- gotta take the bad with the good. Sure, it sucked growing up, but I got through it and now I have so much money that I don’t even know how much I’ve got. I’m living out my childhood dream. Life is great,” Law answered, his tone sincere and a complete lack of bitterness. He could be lying, Robin reminded herself.

But she didn’t think that he was.

They lapsed into silence for a long minute, Law finishing his tea before he began to unpack his bags. Robin saw the label on one of them -- Tomorrow Industries. Robin knew little about the company beyond that it was making a number of headlines both because of the technology it produced, but mostly because it was a cute eighteen-year-old girl that developed all of the innovations.

“Thank you for answering my question,” Robin said after a lengthy silence, watching Law unpack what looked to be some kind of gas mask that would cover his eyes, but not his forehead. Law looked up from the instructions that he had been reading. “I hope you forgive me for not telling you my story.” Robin was a guarded person by nature, and since… that day, she learned to be even more cautious when it came to people.

“Didn’t expect you to,” Law dismissed the subject out of hand with a shrug.

“If I might ask you one more thing?” She requested, knowing that she shouldn’t ask but he seemed open about his past and her curiosity was getting the better of her.

“Shoot.”

“You parents,” Robin began as Law began to walk away from the counter, turning his back to her. “Did you ever see them again?” She asked him, and while he wasn’t facing her, Robin saw his face in the reflection of a mirror. His expression was completely unguarded and she saw it. The satisfied smile that was nothing but teeth and the gaze that was as sharp as any knife.

“Once.”

…

Vincent. Tony. Alexander. Viktor. Those were the names that the man currently named Vincent had used, changing his name as easily as one might change their clothes. However, as Cinder looked down at the men that were currently unloading a shipping container at the docks under the cover of night, cracking one open revealed exactly what Vincent said there would be -- guns. Machine guns, to be precise.

The Six-Shot-Shooters were gun runners and modders by trade. They imported guns to New York City before making modifications to them, making them automatic weapons, then sold them to the highest bidder for twice the price.

Cinder Fall smiled to herself, her Semblance flaring to life around her in a surge of flames and as parts of her ‘hero costume’ broke down into a filament before being shaped by her flames into a familiar shape -- a bow and arrow. This ‘Earth’ lacked the materials that she was used to, but she managed to make do with carbon fibers and obsidian dust. Less sturdy than what she was used to, but she was hardly fighting Hunters and Huntresses these days.

“Woah, whose-” one of the gangsters looked up, catching the flash of light out of the corner of their eyes. In response, Cinder allowed herself to fall, her feet expertly hooking onto the railing that she had been perched on, and with a pull of her bowstring, the three arrows that she had materialized were released straight at the men. The one that spoke took two to the foot while another had his hand nailed to a container.

The screaming began and Cinder had to fight to not roll her eyes at the sound of it as she gracefully fell to the floor in a three-point landing. Looking up, there was a smirk on her face as she looked at the rest of the SSS and the Blood gang members that were purchasing the guns from them. Their eyes widened and she saw the fear in their eyes before one of them uttered why they were so afraid. “Supe!”

Such an interesting thing. In this world, your lot in life was determined by genetics. By birth. Or by some so-called God, depending on who you asked. Powers weren’t like Aura, something that was available to everyone, with it only taking someone activating it and years of training to master it. The Hunters and Huntresses of this world were called heroes and heroines and they made up only a small portion of the population, and instead of ruling over the masses as gods, they chose to be subservient to them.

Not the choice that Cinder would have made for herself, but she could deal with the hand that she was dealt.

“Light her ass up!” One of them shouted, reaching into the crate to pick up an assault rifle, and slamming in a magazine, before turning it in her direction. Cinder was already on the move, darting behind another shipping container as bullets tore through the thin metal and whatever contents the container had. One bounced off of her aura, depleting it ever so slightly.

Bullets in this world weren’t too dangerous to her. She could sustain a fair amount of heavy fire, but even though each bullet only took off .1% of her aura, it did mean that she couldn’t sustain it indefinitely. More than that, simply letting herself get shot was… sloppy.

Cinder leaped up, wall running up the shipping containers before she cleared the top of it. Her black costume glowed red with her Semblance, more of it breaking off of her as the materials were reshaped into more arrows. When she let the arrows loose this time, she aimed a bit higher. They caught the man that shot her in the chest, both piercing his heart. He continued to fire as he fell dead to the floor.

The rules of engagement were interesting, Cinder was forced to admit with a satisfied smile as she disabled the rest of the gangsters with utter ease. The man she just killed would be considered self defense because he tried to kill her, even if she was in no danger at all. Heroes had a rather large amount of wiggle room when it came to scrutiny. Something very few of them seemed to actually use.

Soon, the warehouse became filled with the sounds of whimpering and crying. Cinder fought to not roll her eyes as her weapons collapsed back into parts of her outfit. Bringing a disposable phone up to her ear, she went to press the speed dial for the police to report the crime, only to be stopped short when she heard the sound of footsteps.

“That was our bust!” Cinder heard the empty air say, but she pinpointed the exact location that the words uttered.

“Translucent, I presume,” Cinder remarked, cocking her head to the side and keeping her tone as smooth as silk, not reacting to the sudden announcement from the invisible man. One of the Seven. He possessed an interesting power. What she wouldn’t have given to have him work for her. Information gathering would be a simple thing.

More people revealed themselves -- camera crews holding equipment, most of which was pointed in her direction.

“You presume right,” Translucent replied, sounding unhappy. “Do you know how much of a pain in the ass this is? I’m down half a fucking point and I needed the exposure to hype up my next fucking movie. You get that? You fucked me with this,” Translucent continued, fuming and upset. “Who the fuck even are you?”

Cinder blinked. That was the only indication that she was ruthlessly suppressing the urge to break the man in two. “Supernova,” Cinder answered, her voice still smooth, none of her emotion bleeding into her tone. “I do apologize for the intrusion, Translucent. I performed my own investigation into the deal. If I had known that you were already on the matter, then I would have turned my attention elsewhere.”

It was galling to be polite, but it couldn’t be denied that in the social hierarchy of the hero world, Translucent was undeniably above her as a member of the Seven. There were times and places to dig in and throw your weight around, and now wasn't one of them. She had just stepped on some toes, so some flattering words and an empty apology were needed.

She didn’t see his reaction, but she did hear it. A small sigh and the sound of him running a hand through his hair. “Ah, fuck. No, my bad. Shouldn’t have snapped at you, Supernova. That was unprofessional of me,” he said, quickly shifting into damage control mode.

Cinder offered a smile, “No need to apologize, Translucent. I understand the job comes with certain… pressures,” she voiced. Making a connection within the Seven would be beneficial. It would take more than smoothing some ruffled feathers, however. “Actually, I would like to make it up to you. I have information on another bust -- A front for a cartel will be receiving a large shipment of cocaine this week.” Speak softly, and offer a gift.

“Oh, a cartel?” Translucent perked up, “Which one? If it’s the Armades then I’m not interested. Those guys are fucking psychos. Some punk tried to mess with them and they cut the heads off of his entire family and dumped them on his doorstep. Fuck those guys.”

Her slight smile grew a fraction, “It’s the Galindo Cartel.” She reassured him and the camera crews were venturing closer, one of them with a silk bathrobe. Cinder watched as it was lifted up and filled out before Translucent began to materialize. His body became opaque before a middle-aged man stood before her -- dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. Handsome in a mature way with a hint of a five o’clock shadow.

“Jarvis,” Translucent said, snapping at his aid. “Run the lead up to Stillwell. See what she thinks, but it could be a nice bump.” The rattish-looking man nodded and ran off and Translucent’s gaze returned to her. “I think we might have gotten on the wrong foot. Sorry about that. Translucent, one of the Seven.” He said, throwing on a charming smile and holding out a hand.

“Supernova, but you can call me Cinder Fall,” Cinder returned, shaking his hand. She had a read on Translucent already. Egotistical, and an opportunist. She appeased his ego, gave him an opportunity, and she was beautiful. In no time at all, he’d be eating out of the palm of her hand.

“And I’m,” another voice interjected and Cinder didn’t miss the annoyed expression that passed over Translucent’s face. He was unguarded with his expressions. Likely due to the fact that he spent most of his time invisible so he didn’t have to hide them. Cinder’s gaze flickered to a handsome man dressed in a rather atrocious green outfit, a cocky grin on his face as he accepted a towel from one of the aids. “The Deep. A pleasure to meet you, Supernova. Big fan of your work.”

Interesting. He tried to disguise checking her out by dragging the towel over his face, but his gaze lingered on her ass, her breasts, then finally her face.

“We both are,” Translucent interjected smoothly. “You have analytics tearing their hair out because every time they get a lead, you get a bust. Your numbers are doing great, especially without an agency.” Ah, so that’s how it was. Cinder suppressed a smile when the Deep shot Translucent a sharp look.

She was a piece of meat between two horny dogs. Beauty was a tool. Sex was a weapon in the same vein that a gun was -- it was something better used to threaten with than to actually pull the trigger in order to get what you wanted. Men like Translucent and The Deep were like dogs and a car -- the chase is what interested them. Sexual gratification was validation to their egos that they were attractive and desirable. Sleeping with one, or even both of them, may give her a leg up, but it would also ensure that they would lose interest immediately after.

Cinder smiled at the compliment, “I like to believe that I do okay. Some of it is luck, and the rest is knowing the right people,” she admitted. Vincent- or whatever his real name was, he was the right person to know. All of the information that he gave her was actionable and without fail, it catapulted her popularity amongst the rank and file of other hopeful heroes. His motivation was evident enough -- he wanted someone on the hero side of things, possibly to feed him information or act on his behalf.

Vincent was someone that Cinder had to handle with care. His stated reason for knowing what he did was connections to a gang that didn’t exist. If he gave that information to another prospective hero, then it would be a setback, because the time that she wasn’t investigating these insignificant crimes, she was marketing her persona ‘Supernova.’ So, she needed him to remain sweet. Seducing him was in progress because she had felt his attraction to her, but it would also be best to offer something in return so he felt that he was benefiting from the relationship.

At least until she didn’t need him anymore.

“Sounds like our people need to talk to your people. The guys in analytics -heh, they’ve been suckin’ it up lately,” The Deep remarked, completely missing the dirty look that one of the aids shot him. “They promised a big bump with this -- guns are in, you know? School shootings, man. I mean… yeah, all the dead kids are… awful. Really terrible. But, it makes gun related busts hot.”

Incredible. Absolutely incredible. The Deep really was just a handsome face, wasn’t he?

“In that case, I wouldn’t want to interfere in your marketing,” Cinder said, choosing to say nothing about The Deep putting his entire foot in his mouth. “Perhaps we could share the credit?” She offered, a generous smile tugging at her lips. Optics were everything in this business. It was as The Deep said, gun busts made headlines on account of it being a hot topic issue for a variety of reasons. It would be a sizable bump in her own ratings and give her name more traction. Offering to share painted her in a generous and favorable light, while any loss in credit would be more than made up for in exposure.

Because the headlines would read The Deep and Translucent team up with Supernova in gun bust. As of now, Cinder was a notable name in New York. Her ‘tweets’ trended, her merchandise sold, and her ratings were rather high because she checked a number of boxes. However, the Seven were an international team of superheroes. It would catapult her from a ‘local’ hero to an international one.

“That sounds great, yeah!” The Deep agreed easily enough and the aid - Jarvis - seemed pensive.

“Wait, uh, I’m not sure-” Jarvis spoke up, looking between her and The Deep. Cinder saw it in his eyes. Jarvis may not have guessed her intentions per say, but he did recognize that there were issues with the idea.

“Well, since you offered… maybe going out tonight was worth it after all,” Translucent decided, looking to Jarvis and silencing whatever he was about to say with a look. “Let’s do a little editing magic, yeah? Make it look like a proper team-up instead of us stumbling into this like a couple of chucklefucks, yeah?” Translucent instructed, phrasing the demands as questions.

Jarvis ran a hand through his hair, looking like he still wanted to disagree but didn’t know how to. “I- Alright, yeah, we can do that. Uhhh… okay, we can get a shot of the Deep diving into the water and I’ll get some of the guys to dress up as crooks for you to get the drop on, Translucent. We actually got some footage of you, Supernova, but we can check the security footage. With a little editing, I think we can string something together.”

“Thank you, Jarvis. I do appreciate it,” Cinder told him, making the man scratch at his neck, seemingly embarrassed.

“And we appreciate you, ‘Nova,” The Deep remarked, giving her a practiced roguish grin. “I get that it’s gotta be tough for you -- being a solo hero, and all.”

Cinder smiled, “It’s no trouble at all, Deep. After all, aren’t we all heroes here?” She questioned, earning a laugh from Translucent and the Deep. And what a joke it was.

Cinder didn’t know how she was here. Or why she was here. But it mattered little to her. What Cinder desired, above all else, was power. And whether it was on Remnant or on Earth, the rules and nature of power didn’t change. The only thing that changed was the methods to acquire it. On Remnant, Salem had been her path to power.

Now?

Now she would become a hero. And what a hero she would be.