An anti-hero with Rimuru's abilities in dc

The industrial district was a graveyard of broken dreams. Rusted scaffolding stretched skyward, skeletal remains of factories that had once fueled Gotham's fleeting prosperity. Now, they were little more than monuments to neglect. 

The man stood in the center of it all, his arms crossed, glowing red eyes surveying the scene. This desolate place, abandoned by hope, would serve as his beginning. 

"I can work with this," he muttered. 

Stretching out his hand, he activated **Predator**, and waves of black energy rippled outward. Debris vanished into the swirling vortex of his power, consumed and reconstituted into raw materials. Walls rebuilt themselves, and broken beams melted into sleek, reinforced structures. 

Minutes passed, and the wasteland transformed. Where a crumbling factory had stood, a massive facility of black and silver now towered. Its angular design shimmered in the faint moonlight, a testament to efficiency and power. 

> **Base of Operations Established.** 

> **Resources Available: Basic. Optimization Recommended.** 

He smirked at the notification. "Let's get to work." 

---

### **The First Plan** 

The interior of the facility was no less impressive. High ceilings, walls embedded with glowing panels, and an advanced central hub that pulsed with soft blue light. 

He approached the hub and placed his hand on its surface. The interface responded instantly, displaying streams of data. He linked it to Gotham's networks, bypassing firewalls and encryption with ease. Police databases, surveillance feeds, public records—they all became accessible in moments. 

What he saw was worse than expected. 

Nearly half the Gotham City Police Department was on crime bosses' payrolls. Funds allocated for public infrastructure were siphoned into private accounts. The city's wealthiest districts thrived while the Narrows crumbled into ruin. 

"Rotten to the core," he muttered. "Fixing this will take more than brute force." 

He leaned back, his mind already racing. For Gotham to change, he needed control—not just over its criminals but its systems. He couldn't just dismantle the old world; he had to build a new one. 

His first step: **information and observation**. 

---

### **Creating the Sentinels** 

From his knowledge and Rimuru's vast abilities, he began designing **Sentinel Drones**. Small, spherical devices equipped with advanced AI, capable of stealthy reconnaissance and direct intervention. Each drone would serve as his eyes and ears across the city, ensuring no crime went unnoticed. 

Using **Predator**, he absorbed and reshaped raw materials, constructing the drones one by one. Each hovered silently before him, their surfaces sleek and reflective. 

"Perfect," he said, as the first batch activated. 

He sent them out, watching through their interfaces as Gotham unfolded before him. 

The drones soared over the city, feeding him real-time data. The Narrows were a hotspot of desperation and violence, while the wealthier districts thrummed with quiet corruption. 

In the East End, they spotted a group of armed men unloading crates into a warehouse. His interest piqued. 

---

### **A Show of Power** 

He teleported to the warehouse, appearing in its shadowy entrance. Inside, a dozen men worked under flickering lights, stacking crates labeled with military insignias. Their leader, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, barked orders. 

The man stepped forward, his boots echoing on the concrete floor. 

"Nice operation you've got here," he said, his voice calm. 

The men froze, turning to face him. Scarface narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?" 

"Just someone who doesn't like weapons like these in Gotham." 

"Bold words," Scarface sneered. "But you're outnumbered, pal. Walk away, and we might let you live." 

The man smirked. "You should've started with that." 

Scarface nodded, and one of his men raised a gun. 

Before the trigger was pulled, the weapon dissolved into black mist. The thug stumbled back, shouting in confusion. 

"What—what is this?" 

Scarface growled. "Kill him!" 

The man didn't flinch as the others opened fire. Bullets melted mid-air, absorbed into the void. With a wave of his hand, he unleashed **Black Flame**, a controlled surge of fire that consumed their weapons without harming them. 

Panic set in. The men dropped to their knees, scrambling to flee. 

"You wanted to play with guns," he said, his voice cold. "Now you get to face the consequences." 

Scarface tried to run, but the man appeared before him in an instant, his eyes glowing brighter. 

"Who do you work for?" 

Scarface stammered, his bravado crumbling. "Falcone! Carmine Falcone!" 

The man's expression darkened. He reached out, absorbing Scarface into **Predator**, gaining his knowledge and resources. 

Turning to the remaining men, he said, "You're free to leave. But if I see you in this business again, you won't get another chance." 

They ran without hesitation. 

---

### **Refining the Vision** 

Back at his base, he sorted through the information he had gained. Carmine Falcone, one of Gotham's most powerful crime lords, had been stockpiling weapons for months. The implications were clear—something big was coming. 

But that was just one problem in a city teeming with them. 

He turned to his next project: energy. Gotham's infrastructure was in shambles, and the city's poorest districts suffered the most. 

Using Rimuru's knowledge, he designed a compact, self-sustaining energy core. It was small enough to fit in his hand but capable of powering entire neighborhoods. He called it **EternaCore**. 

The first test was a success. Within hours, he had built and deployed several units across the Narrows, restoring power to homes that had been dark for years. 

---

### **A Chance Encounter** 

Late one night, while surveying the Narrows, he spotted a young girl huddled in an alley. She was no older than ten, wrapped in a thin blanket, her face pale with hunger. 

He approached slowly, kneeling to meet her gaze. 

"What's your name?" he asked gently. 

She flinched but didn't answer. 

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said, holding out his hand. A small piece of bread appeared in his palm, conjured from his storage. 

Her eyes widened, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. 

"My name's Ana," she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

He smiled. "Ana, how long have you been out here?" 

"Since… since my mom didn't come back," she said, her voice breaking. 

His expression hardened, though he kept his tone soft. "You don't have to stay here anymore. I can help you." 

Her lip quivered, but she nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. 

---

### **Sowing the Seeds of Change** 

He took Ana to a shelter he had recently established in the Narrows. The facility, powered by EternaCore, provided food, clean water, and medical care to Gotham's homeless. 

Word spread quickly. Families who had long been forgotten by the system began to find hope. 

But not everyone welcomed the changes. 

As he sat in his base, reviewing reports from his drones, an alert flashed across his interface. One of the shelters had been attacked—a warning from a gang that thrived on the desperation of the Narrows. 

His eyes narrowed. 

"If they want to send a message," he muttered, "I'll send one back."