*Year: 2010*
*Location: New York City*
*1st POV*
Five years, that's how long it took to nearly fully take over New York City's underworld, while the russian mob, Mexican cartel, and various other criminal organizations still had their pies in a few of the businesses I wanted to stay out of, mostly weapons. They now had to answer to me when dealing with certain products like drugs, prostitution, the basic things all humans wanted, no matter how hard people try to deny it.
I couldn't get into weapons, mostly because I didn't know who their supplier was or where they got the weapons from. So for right now, until I have a tighter grip on this place, and right now my The Exterminator persona was doing wonders, people were scared of the big bad supe crimelord, I still remember that moment I put that one gang in their place, so much fun.
Afterward, I started expanding, going after bigger and badder gangs, had a few bullet holes I needed to patch up alongside some...blackouts. Still trying to figure out what the hell happened there, but I remember the events leading up to it. I remember the russian mob slowly gaining ground on me with the classic AR-15s, and I started trying to figure a way out, getting stressed, and then cut to black.
This means that whatever Compound-V did to my body didn't stop at my arms, but the problem was that I was by no means a geneticist, so I had no luck there. I did the next best thing and modified a GoPro camera modified it so that it didn't connect to the internet or send my location out beyond just being a basic recording, all the basics essentially. It could be I'm just being paranoid but i'd rather be safe and make sure my shit stasy a secret.
Another thing I discovered about myself over the years...I was becoming like Batman, sort of. I was spending more and more time in my persona than in the face of Jason Todd. Not like I didn't try to have a social life outside of all this, I had a few driving buddies, but nothing concrete, nothing really true, though.
He was becoming more and more like a mask every day, like this thing in front of me was my true face. Half of the time, when I take off my mask, I swear to whatever god exists, my face resembles it only more fleshy-looking and like those black tendrils that make up my arms. Then, when I blink, and bam, my face is back to normal, back to my well-handsomish face with a scruffy beard to boot. That all happened as I brushed my teeth and just took care of myself, well, the bare minimum anyway.
Once I was done doing all that, I slumped down in my old chair and put my feet up. I just rubbed my hand across my face, keeping calm and making sure I was still in control. That was something else I learned during my years of good old-fashioned housekeeping, I guess you can call it, my anger was being suppressed, I was keeping calm, which meant that it probably had something to do with my little blackout.
Probably boiled over and just got unleashed somehow, like my own nasty Hulk or perhaps just the Red Hood personality coming out for some fun. Either way, tonight was a very special night, as tonight I was going on a super hunt. Someone who won't on The Seven's level but rather an idiot who thinks they can scare the local crime lords. Especially someone with a nickname, an alias like one of Vought's products, and well, they may not like that.
An idiot by the name of, oh, what was it, it was something stupid, Steelman or something like that. Essentially, his skin is made of steel and blah, blah, enhanced durability, and that's about it. No super strength or anything that could give him an edge over me in a fight. Sure, it would be a bit difficult to get through his skin, but like my favorite French person will eventually say, he's like a turtle.
Durably on the outside, soft and squishy on the inside, and all ready to be taken down. Right now he was roaming near my Rat Motel, looking to score some of the good stuff before what was it, the new Steelman origin movie or something but oh well back to CGI and shit instead of superpowered crazy celebrities. Yep, Vought was filming right here in New York, and well, he wanted to score some coke the night before shooting for some reason.
Didn't matter as after sitting down for a few minutes I got my shit together, put my mask back on. I grabbed tw Uzis and a nice modified revolver, built with my own specialized revolver, with bullets that pack a wee bit more of a punch. Not as much as I would like, but enough to do what I need to take down some of the weaker supes, and take the breath out of some of the stronger ones.
Probably could've used a stronger weapon for it, but I think using a nice classic every now and again is nice. Doing something for myself while performing a public service like taking care of a nasty supe that crossed a line he shouldn't have. Trying to intimidate a crime lord who has the resources to put you six feet in the ground.
Either way, once I was all ready, I got out of the Rat motel, scaring away a few people who knew what the mask meant. The people who know that right now it was work mode, and that usually meant killing somebody, or beating them to a pulp. Exiting onto the streets, I began walking down it, looking for the man, making sure he didn't try to ambush me or something like that.
Turns out I was overestimating the idiot, as there he was standing in front of me wearing orange shorts with thick boots to match. His skin was definitely made of steel, alright, based on the gleam the street lights gave off. He was surprisingly skinny, though he was also tall and lanky. It was like looking at that one creature in the Alien Prometheus movie, only less...well, alien-like. He saw me and my mask and smile, beginning to speak in a terrible russian accent, but whatever, Vought probably thought it was cool or something.
"So you're The Exterminator, back home I'd break punks like you for breakfast." He said again with that terrible accent, I mean, come on.
"Course I'd consider sparring you if you get me some high-quality stuff for free, alright?" There it is, the accent drop and the real reason he was talking to me.
I just sighed and whipped the revolver out, firing a shot into his stomach, which sent him flying back from me. This gave me a chance to shift my hand into a spike and loom over the man who covered his stomach in pain, while it didn't pierce his body, it definitely left a dent in him, though. Meaning some of his bones were definitely broken, and that my special little bullets worked quite well.
Based on what I was seeing, it could kill the weaker supes and deal some damage to some supes on this guy's level. Not Homelander thought, no, not quite yet, but if I kept on working on it, then well, who knows, someday maybe.
"Wh-Wh-What the fuck did you do to me, who the fuck-" I then stabbed down into his mouth hitting the edge of his skin. I then started moving slowly upward, going through his skull/brain. He gurgled for a minute before dying, and I shifted my hand back to normal all without saying a word. Probably didn't need the Uzis and while it wasn't some epic fight like I thought it would be but it was a good first night.
"They called me The Exterminator for a reason you dumbass."