If the detective, along with Harley, who was bored with the conversation, and Simon, who was unconscious, were ready to run right now and stick their heads in the jaws of the demonic lion, I couldn't boast of such recklessness.
"Hmm... The subscriber is unavailable," I concluded frustratedly after several unsuccessful attempts to reach the powerful sorceress.
The fanatics are going to open the gates to Hell, and the sorceress has no idea they're even here. But Taboo's magic can do a lot more than that, if you calculate it right and put a lot of energy into it.
"Mr. J, you said yourself that Gotham can't have a strong cult. Why don't we just do this on our own? - My faithful companion suggested, almost dancing on the spot with impatience. She'd tuned in for the fight, but in the end she'd only watched a porno with tentacles, and even then, the latter looked a bit lackluster.
"If nothing is done, the Earth will soon be invaded by hordes of demonic creatures, and we can't delay," Kirk said sternly, putting Simon on his shoulder. - We're going to save the world.
"Uh-huh, here we come," I thought, looking at the unconscious guy that Tom had shoved into the back seat of the police car, showing great skill.
"Mr. J?"
"All right, fine, but we're not going in there without backup."
I was tempted to invite someone like Superman to blow the place to smithereens, along with the fanatics and their lord, but unfortunately, the Kryptonian was unlikely to attack immediately, and his vulnerability to magic could be fatal in close contact. Other strong superheroes, on the other hand, would either take a long time to get there or wouldn't be very effective. Besides, Bats' stupid "don't kill criminals, okay, at least don't do it on purpose" commandment has suddenly resonated too much with my fellow superheroes, and now it's only going to get in the way, because possessed cultists don't give away their demonic origins in almost any way. Good thing I've got a pretty good trump card up my sleeve.
"Sunshine, did you happen to bring a bonsai?"
"Uh, no."
"Then you take the car and go get Abby, and I'll take the detective for a ride."
The blonde took a step toward the car, and then abruptly turned around and stared at me with an extremely suspicious look.
"You're gonna send me away to miss out on all the fun? Will you stop protecting me like I'm a porcelain vase?"
"I had nothing to do," I didn't even intend to do that, even though it seemed logical, knowing full well how important it was for my companion to prove herself and participate in the adventure. - When Darkseid invaded, I really sent you away because the enemy was too strong, but here we're facing ordinary demons. Just a little backup wouldn't hurt. Now put your feet up and go get Abby. Thirty minutes should be enough time to meet me there," I slapped the hottie's tight black-and-red tights on her firm heel and gave her a boost in the right direction.
"We can't wait that long! - The detective intervened again.
"Either that or storm the manor full of possessed without our help."
The man quickly climbed into the car and nodded invitingly at the passenger seat.
"I don't know which Abby you were talking about, but I really hope she's not weaker than Superman, otherwise there's no point in delaying the assault," he muttered quietly as he turned the ignition key.
"Huh, trust me. You won't be disappointed."
The patrol car sped forward with a little slippage, and soon the branches of snow-covered trees began to flicker outside the window.
During the trip, I didn't miss the chance to learn more about the demon situation from my new friend. Tom, for a "simple detective," knew some pretty specific things about the inner workings of Geo Populus, including the identity of the demonic creatures, which turned out to be ordinary devils, some of them literally taking on human form rather than just occupying other people's bodies. On the one hand, this indicates their high rank, because the control of their own flesh - it is not something that can boast the lowest demonic creatures, but on the other hand, now we can review the list of light charms used. I have in store a couple or three very good weaves, effective specifically against pseudomatter. However, the most interesting thing in Kirk's story was not the hierarchy, reminiscent of the structure of Roman legions, and not the number of future corpses (although more than three hundred, in my humble opinion, a little overkill), but the fact that the cult has existed for half a century, but despite the huge number of possessed and devils even among the rank and file members, in terms of activity, it has always resembled an ordinary criminal group. Racketeering, fraud, smuggling, kidnapping, extortion, arms dealing, in general, a standard Gotham gang with a touch of mysticism and quite a wide range of services. Honestly, it would be better for devils to continue to plague the civilian population as decent criminals, but no, they need to call their lord with untold hordes of comrades to move again somewhere at the end of the food chain, and also to lose all the benefits of civilization, like the same McDonald's and Mamma Macaroni, who just loves Harley. Aren't they retarded?
"Hmm, you never told me what organization you belong to," I said when he finished his story.
"Organizations?"
"You and Simon. Judging by your auras, you were both created using similar rituals. Don't tell me you're not aware that you're also a half-demon undead zombie.
"Ahem... That's not quite true, I died in the line of duty and was resurrected in my original form, whereas Simon was exactly created from multiple bodies and souls. And by the way, I prefer the term "Reborn". As for your question about the organization, there isn't one," the detective shrugged indifferently. - There's only a mage who wants to correct the mistakes of the past, and a couple of concerned citizens who are not aware of the mystical background," he grinned crookedly, seeing my dumbfounded look. - You wanted an ancient mysterious order, standing on the guard of mankind?
"Well, about the ancient, you're overthinking it, considering that the cult is not even a century old, but at least some ordinary order for a couple dozen people should be."
Fucking hell, where the fuck did I get myself into...
"Eh, I told you that Geo Populus prefers to conduct the normal activities of mortals. And you're asking as if I'm obliged to be aware of all the arrangements. There may be some mysterious order of magicians, but I'm just a doer. Hell, I wasn't even brought back to life for some global purpose, but just to occasionally stop the cult members if they get cocky, and as a detective..." The man gripped the steering wheel with force.
"Why did they revive me? - Simon asked hoarsely, waking up.
"Didn't the demon have time to tell you?"
"Maybe had time, but there's too much information and it still hasn't settled, so you answer."
"As far as I know, you were supposed to be the next Keeper of the Key, but something happened and Mr. Farmer gave up on that idea."
"Mr. Farmer?"
"Gustav Farmer," the detective's voice was sincere respect instead of his usual calmness. - You probably know him as Guss Webb.
"Wait..." Simon stared at Tom dumbfounded. - It's that guy. The owner of the magic shop!
"Exactly. Or did you seriously think a regular grocery store would carry grave worm mix? Ha-ha-ha-ha, at best they'd add regular worms, although tinted dough is fine for the goths so they don't stink during pseudo-rituals.
"But why didn't he say anything to me... - the guy fell silent, staring at the gloomy landscape outside the car window.
"I guess you weren't ready. Mr. Farmer is a difficult man to talk to, but maybe after we're done with the cult, he can explain it to you."
"Hopefully..."
"Oh, don't get all snotty about it. On the contrary, be glad that nobody touched you all these years, and you could beat the faces of rare bandits, sleep and read books in peace. Because, you know, a large number of souls would be a good fit for some dark, dark ritual with sacrifice," I encouraged my comrade.
"Mr. Farmer wouldn't do that," the driver said indignantly.
"Yeah, he's been working with Geo Populus for years. You think he was growing flowers and digging worms in the cemetery."
"He's a talented alchemist and sorcerer... Tsk, anything can be," the detective finished grudgingly, meeting my skeptical gaze.
After a while, we pulled off the main road and, leaving the car in a small clearing, walked to the manor. Without Harley and Abby's support, I wasn't going to start the assault anyway, so why not do a little reconnaissance?
There was no problem getting into enemy territory, though I'd expected some sort of signaling spell or a serious guard of demonic trackers and armed possessed, but instead we were met with the usual cameras with huge blind spots, so we didn't even have to hack them to slip past the perimeter. At the same time, that didn't stop me from casting attention-dissipating charms on my companions just in case, suddenly finding that the weaves were consuming too much energy. And if Simon and Tom were more or less clear, since there was a slight conflict of energies, then why the spells were working so badly even on me raised a lot of questions.
Recent events have made it clear: if you sense any impropriety, use true vision.
When I turned to magic, the world faded, as if all the colors had been removed from it at once, though even before that, the surrounding landscape was not full of bright colors, thanks to the white snow covering the ground, the bare trunks of dark trees with sparse shrubs, and the dark blue evening sky covered with clouds. But the same picture awaited me on the third level.
Nor was there a single grotesque creature around the ruins of the burned church. And if there everything could be written off to the absence of people, whose energy, dissipating in space, lures creatures from the underside of the world, then here Kirk promised at least two hundred people, and maybe all three hundred... Though I hadn't really studied the effect of demonic energy on the layers of reality, and whether the inhabitants of the third layer could feed on it.
In any case, that didn't stop us from finally passing the semblance of a garden and coming straight out to the mansion.
The building looked... Ordinary. No, I didn't expect to see bloody pentagrams on the walls, half-dead victims hanging from hooks as decoration, or burgundy banners with the symbol of the Black Beast, but there were no gargoyles or pinnacle towers to be seen, and the mansion itself had clearly abandoned the gloomy atmosphere of Gotham in favor of the English style. Instead of the usual Gothic style, it was a squat two-story house with arched windows and high gables, behind which were the living quarters, judging by the several window openings in the roof slope.
It seemed I wanted too much from a weak cult that picked the scraps from its lord's table, for there was no room for any meaningful defense here as well as on the approaches. With the monocle he'd given me, I could only detect one camera at the back entrance, and, using my eye, the faint weaves on the windows. They didn't look dangerous, more like a kind of signaling network, and my intuition didn't give any alarm signals.
When I finished admiring the zealots' lair, I took out my cane and a handful of diamonds from my pocket and began to create, but I wasn't allowed to glamorize for long. It wasn't even ten minutes later when Harley called, and soon the beauty herself came to us, accompanied by a sluggish dryad wrapped in a colorful plaid.
I was a little dumb, I had to admit, because plants didn't like cold, and Abby wanted to sleep more than deal with some demonic cult. But my adventurous streak didn't allow me to put such a complicated task on the fragile shoulders of the Green avatar without first trying to do it myself.
"Once again, attack the estate if we call or if we're gone for a long time," I said, handing over the spare smartphone.
"Uh-huh," the green-skinned beauty sitting on the snow yawned charmingly, wrapping herself more tightly in the plaid, "Uh-huh, got it.
"Joker, are you sure you're going to be okay? - The detective asked thoughtfully, looking at the sleepy dryad with great doubt.
"Ha ha ha, trust me, if this cutie gets mad, even Darkseid gets sad."
"I certainly hope so... Simon!"
"А? - The boy woke up, no longer fiddling with the small stone he'd been holding since entering enemy territory. - We're on our way?
"Yeah. Were you able to find out anything else about the cult's plans? Maybe their weaknesses?"
"Unfortunately, no. All I can say is that the ritual hasn't started yet, and we have time... M-h-h," Simon shuddered at the pain that pierced his head. - There's a lot of time, but at the same time not enough... I don't understand... The information is still too vague, but the gate and the key are definitely somewhere under the mansion.
"All right, we'll decide on the spot, we can't put it off any longer. We start in five minutes," the man pulled his pistol from his holster, checked his watch, and sprinted toward the mansion.
Since we only had the plans of the upper floors, kindly sent by Alfred, it didn't make much sense to think out a detailed plan of attack. So we were going to act in the style of almost real superheroes: Harley and I would distract attention by breaking in through the front doors, while the detective and the chimera would attack from the flanks, then quickly thin the ranks of our enemies with prepared spells (Simon had warned us about the ambush during another attack), and then break into the basement and interrupt the ritual. One hell of a plan lives until it collides with reality.
***
The Pinkerton mansion buzzed with the number of "people" scurrying about, their heads covered by black canvas bags with a couple of eyeholes. The huge hallway was no exception in this case. Even more, it was here that as many as fifty cult members were gathered, bound to prevent any interference with the ritual. Although they all looked like ordinary men, a careful eye could see that some of them had been standing absolutely still for half an hour, some of them had bags sticking out from their foreheads as if to hide small horns, and some of them were carefully covering the long black claws on their hands or the hump on their backs.
Geo Populus is probably one of the strangest mystical orders, as it is almost entirely made up of demonic spawn who try too hard to resemble humans. What to say, if the least bloodthirsty members even managed to start families with human women. But soon enough, all that will be a thing of the past. Soon the Gate will open and their master will descend to Earth. The true Demon Lord with his untold horde of creatures, hungry for human souls and flesh.
~Bah~
Suddenly, the oak casements swung open abruptly, and Gotham's most reckless couple appeared before the eyes of the surprised cultists.
"Well, well, well, well, well," Joker, dressed in his favorite purple three-piece suit, accompanied by a blonde dressed in a tight black and red harlequin outfit, slowly walked forward and stopped in the middle of the hall, in the crosshairs of hundreds of eyes. In his hands he held a long cane with a round pommel, surrounded by a dull glow from the excess of light mana. - I overheard that some alternatively gifted fanatics have decided to unleash a demon into the world. You know that demons will not spare anyone, and you will only become their slaves, when they have played enough with ordinary people? Eh, but what did I want from morons who would sell their souls for a bit of power?
"Wrong, Joker," a thin, short man stepped forward. Unlike his fellows, he wore no headdress, so everyone could see his pale white skin, his predatory features, his short black hair, and his neat beard of the same color. But all this paled before his unusual eyes, because their sclera was completely black, making them resemble two holes in the abyss. - We are demons. Oh, yes," he smiled broadly, displaying a dentist's dream: many sharp teeth like short needles, "magic won't help you.
With a deafening rumble, the doors slammed shut on their own, the air seemed to thicken, and the former supercriminal's cane instantly ceased to emit a dim glow.
"This building is now isolated from the outside world."
An ominous silence descended upon the hall, and in that silence came an enthusiastic female voice.
"Mr. J, I was wondering, how long is "not long" for Abby?"