I would have preferred it if my new life in a new world had started off great.
"Oh, god yes! Harder! Harder!"
Being the child of a twenty year old nymphomaniac hooker, was arguably not the best start to a new life.
"Oh, yes! Oh yes you filthy whore – take my – what the fuck?! There's a goddamned baby in here!"
I was surprised he noticed my presence, being silent in the crib as I was.
"Oh, that's – ah – just my – oh fuck – bastard son. You let them take off the condom once, and you get nine months of pain and a crying shitbag for it."
Ouch. I had unusually thick skin, but that had hurt, even by my standards.
"You're a sick woman."
"Pft. Coming from the sleazebag fucking me? Save your morality for your paraplegic wife."
And then came the slaps. I would have sighed if my babyish lips were capable of doing it. Honestly, I thought she would have realized after the sixteenth time someone smacked her in the eye that it did not pay to be a smart ass when you were, in plain terms, a simple hooker.
The beating ended, and a rather angry customer stormed off, though, not without at least tossing a fat stack of bills into the woman's face.
"This is for the kid. With any luck, he'll live long enough to put you out of your misery."
"Oh, a cheater with a conscience! Call the fucking Daily Bugle!"
The door slammed shut, and once more, a pair of angry eyes turned into my direction.
"This is all your fault you know."
Actually, I was sure it was due to your own poor life choices, but, sadly, I could not speak, and thus, I said nothing.
"Get pregnant for a while they said – customers are into the breast milk fetish they said, it'll boost your average rates by over a hundred percent they said!" She growled, before, I once more heard the sound of liquid pouring into glass, and three guesses told me what it was.
"If only I'd gotten rid of you sooner – but no, I let you stay long enough, just long enough for any sort of procedure to get rid of you guaranteeing my death. Fucking hell."
She gulped down the drink, and once more, I remained silent, listening to her swallow down what sounded like three full bottles.
"But", she said, her voice slurring slightly now, "At least – you're good company. You don't cry much – and though the diapers costs a small fortune, and your shit stinks up the place – you're good. You a good baby."
I felt a pair of hands lifting me out of the small crib, allowing my eyes to truly focus on the blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes of the woman in front of me.
"Heh – it's just you and me versus the world – fuck everyone else – fuck everything else – you – baby, you get me. You – you're still here, you'll be here for your mama forever – and I – I won't… let… anyone… take… you…"
At least, she had the decency to place me back into the crib, before collapsing into it. Her open breasts were exposed, and I knew, that unless I wanted to die, I needed sustenance. And so, I ignored her snores, sobs, incoherent mutterings, as my lips gathered around her suckle nipple, and I fed.
Had I been any ordinary child, any ordinary baby – I would have long since died from starvation and malnutrition, if not from the fact that my mother smoked and drank heavily, and it was clear in the acrid taste of the milk.
But I wasn't, and so, instead, I survived.
And I intended to continue surviving.
Through any means necessary.
Belatedly, I knew, or I realized, that the reason I had not yet completely freaked out or gone insane or lost my mind at the lifestyle which I now lived, was due to the Gamer's Mind skill. Likewise, the reason why I was not yet dead, was due to the Gamer's Body. It was with these skills alone, that had aided me enough, so I could crawl on all fours by six months, and I was finally capable of walking at only one year old.
I knew which world I was in, as it was hard not to, considering that I had heard the name of my city loud and clear, and unless there was another Gotham City that existed somewhere in the world, then I could not be mistaken.
And considering the current state life, which would one day be considered as my 'backstory' I would either become a great villain, or a great hero. For some reason, I was leaning towards the former.
"Oh! Great job Isaac! You're a really smart boy!"
I smiled at the woman on whose lap I sat, as I solved basic arithmetic I could have completed in my sleep, and made her look at me with something akin to admiration.
This would have been such a great, or normal moment for a child, had we not been in one of the back rooms of a strip club, and the woman in question wasn't skimpily clad in a mini-skirt, topless, and did not have a roll of weed in her left hand.
But at least, she wasn't named Chastity.
"Thanks Auntie Purity!"
…Shut up.
"You know, I think your mother really ought to put you in school. You'd really blow them all away with that brain of yours!"
There was a snort, which came from another stripper who had entered the room at that moment. So much boobs and skin right in front of me, but unfortunately, my body was not sexually mature enough to have a reaction to any of it. Didn't that suck?
"You know why Eva won't send the brat to school. All it'll take will be one person figuring out what or who his mother does for a living before child services come knocking at her door."
The woman sneered at me. "If it were up to me, I'd have dropped you off at the nearest orphanage right after your birth."
"Ugh! That's just rude!" Purity said.
The woman flicked her eyes to her. "As if you wouldn't have done the same. How many abortions have you had Purity? I stopped caring to count after the seventh one."
"That doesn't mean you can talk to him like that, or tell him straight to his face! He's just a kid!"
"And the sooner he learns how shitty the world is, the better." She snarled, before, I felt a hand grabbing me, forcing me off Purity's lap.
"Hey – where are you taking him – sto–"
Her protests were cut short, as I was forced through the strip club, before I stood behind a curtain, the woman's sharp fingered hands slamming down unto my shoulders.
"Look – over there –"
I did.
I saw my mother.
"There – that's your mother, riding a pole and making men hard just to get some cash. You see it? You see how well she does that? Well, remember it. Remember that. Because after she leaves here, some of those men are going to be fucking her hard, for some more cash."
There was a sneer in the woman's tone, and, idly, I wondered why she was showing me this. Wasn't she also a stripper?
"That cash is barely ever enough for her, but she splits it in half for you as well, starving and getting skinnier just so you can eat. Fucking more and more men than even she can handle just to make sure you don't starve."
Oh.
"So brat, you better remember, and you better be grateful."
The gripping weight on my shoulder slowly left.
I barely noticed when the woman had left, instead, my eyes were still focused on the woman in front of me. The woman who, now that I realized it, was twenty-one, the same age I had been before I had died. She was a child by all means, young, very, very young.
And her skin shone with sweat, her breasts and nipples heaved in the air, a metal pole pressed against her legs and thighs, as she shot out a sultry look to a group of men disgustingly older. Their applauses and catcalls were dulled in my ears, as I gazed upon the woman, and slowly, steadily, my lungs burned and a thick heavy lump buried itself in my throat.
I would only later realize, that this burning sensation, was anger.
MISSION UNLOCKED!
Pulling Your Own Weight!
Your mother is a young, talented, and extremely beautiful woman, who is wasting away her life as a cheap stripper and hooker in Gotham City's slums, and is barely making enough for herself, let alone for the both of you. Help her out by attaining enough money to steer her off this path of life, and truly become a better person.
Objective: -
Attain $100,000 Dollars via any means necessary
Bonus Objectives: -
Attain $250,000 Dollars
Attain $500,000 Dollars
Attain $1,000,000 Dollars
Time Limit:
Before your mother turns Twenty-Five
(Four Years)
Rewards:
10,000 EXP
Additional 25,000 EXP Per Bonus Objective
Increased Standards of Living
Greatly Increased Reputation with your Mother
Greatly Increased Affection with your Mother
Accept?
(Yes)
(No)
Taking a deep, filling breath, I hit the accept button without a single regret.
Four years? They gave me four years to make a hundred thousand dollars? I actually chuckled under my breath.
No. I could not stand this sight for that long. I would make that money in the next one week.
Had I been any other person, any normal child, this would have been an impossible task, but, I wasn't. I had the brain of a twenty-one year old from a different dimension, from a dimension in which granted me knowledge about some of the secrets and details about the world I was currently in. With this knowledge, there would be nothing that would stand in my way.
In a world where gods walked the earth as mortal men, I would become a legend.
And I would do it –
For my mother.