Sorcerer in DC

"And just when I thought the younger generation was hopeless," a voice cackled out in the night. It came through the loudspeaker of a flip phone.

 "You go and pull shit like this. Steal from me? But, hey I admire talent. Boys, make it quick for their sakes, will you?"

The phone cut, and the voice of the gunman filled the void.

"Alright. You heard the man," He cocked his gun. "Any last words?"

His words cut through the dull drum of the rain and doused me in fear. I could feel my heart thumping through my ears.

My best friend in the world, Eddie, knelt beside me in the rain, bawling his eyes out.

"Please, we didn't know we were stealing from the Black Mask?" Eddie said. "You got to believe me!"

The gunman's burly partner backhanded Eddie so hard that his skull snapped against the wet concrete. I flinched, fist bunching up, but I couldn't move, all of my anger and bravado suddenly evaporating. 

"You don't accidentally rob a fucking stash house. Die with some dignity."

As Eddie struggled to his feet, my mind wandered back to our earlier conversation.

I should've brought the fucking gun.

"Lit paper as promised, Verbanski," I said to the doey Jock, pulling the freshly printed assignment. "Fork over the cash."

He looked at me from the corner of his eyes and snorted. He didn't have to say it. I'd seen that look in people's eyes hundreds of times. I was a fifteen-year-old with soft, rounded features, a skinny frame, and was five-foot-four. I didn't exactly win the genetic lottery.

I would've passed for an anorexic girl if I didn't have some heft to my voice.

"Run along, nerd," he snorted, snatching the assignment. "Be glad I don't kick your ass." He turned back to his group of friends, snickering.

I let out a laugh as well and stuffed my hand into my hoodie pocket, wrapping my fist around my lucky knuckle duster. The thing was almost as old as I was, chipped and worn at the edges. I found it on the frozen body of a homeless guy when I was thirteen, and it has been with me ever since.

It was my Ed when Ed wasn't around.

"Funny you call me a nerd, because I'm only really good for two things," I said to his back. "English, and well, fighting, which means I'm not afraid of you, Tubby."

The laughing stopped, and a tall, lanky guy elbowed Verbanski in the side.

"Did you just hear that?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Verbanski straightened his back and pushed out his chest as he spun around. I had to admit the adjustment upped his intimidation factor. "What the fuck did you just call me?"

"What's the matter, Tubby? Ears not working? All that fat--"

He grabbed a fist full of my shirt before I finished, pulling me in and lifting me until I stood on the tip of my toes.

Damn. He might've been an ignoramus, but the dude was strong.

"When I'm done with you, you'll be eating through a straw." His breath was ripe, and I wrinkled my face.

"Get a breath mint, you asshole." I rammed my forehead straight into his nose. His head whipped back, blood spraying as he dropped me and stumbled, but Verbanski didn't go down. He clutched his bloody nose, looking up at me in surprise.

That surprise quickly gave way to anger.

"Holy shit!" A member of his posse said.

I blinked away the pain as he swung at me with murder in his eyes. Barely weaving under it, I pulled out my trusty knuckle duster and threw a shot into his liver.

It shut him down immediately, body crumpled from the acute pain. I kicked him in the jaw, putting him flat on his ass as I rifled through his pockets, plucking a crisp $50.

His posse had vanished.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," I said to the shivering mess before me and walked over to my locker before a teacher appeared.

Verbanski might not rat me out, but the rest of his crew? I needed to ditch the evidence, and who better to help me than Ed?

I grinned when I saw him, and he shook his head.

"Great way to start your morning," he said. I handed him my knuckle duster and the cash.

"Hold this for me, will ya?"

He slid both down his jeans pocket.

"Everything set for tonight?"

"Bribed Jenny to distract the delivery boy," he said. "Should give us time to slip the sleeping pills inside their Miso soup."

I nodded. "Got the powder last night, and something else in case the pill doesn't take." I showed him a picture of a handgun I purchased from Shady V, one of my oldest contacts in the Narrows.

"What the hell, J," he whispered furiously, putting his considerable bulk between me and any passerby. He towered over me—standing at over 6ft 2 inches tall and was a good 60 pounds heavier.

Anyone else and I would've been concerned, to say the least, but Eddie was Eddie.

"Right back at you," I whispered back. "They're Black Mask's men. You can't seriously expect us to raid their stash house with baseball bats. It's a death sentence."

"So is getting on the Bat's radar if we kill someone," he said. "The police might overlook it, but Batman…"

I rolled my eyes. "Prison beats death."

"Not if that prison is Black Gate or Juvie. Black Mask is connected. They could drag out our torture for months."

I made a face. "Thanks for that horrible visual, and that's a terrible counterargument. It's always better to have something and need it than the other way around. I'm not trigger-happy or anything. All I'm saying is that it's stupid to try to rob four dudes with just baseball bats."

"Don't forget the knuckle duster," Eddie smiled, and I rolled my eyes. He didn't speak for a long moment, but I saw the emotion in his eyes. We'd pulled off dozens of petty jobs before this, but carrying a gun made it all real.

The cops won't pull any punches if they catch us with one.

Desperation had driven us to steal. While Eddie was looking for a way out, I realized there wasn't—not through school.

The system was corrupt, and so was every other person and institution in this damn city. Why play by the rules when no one else did?

Even Batman didn'0.

"I don't think I could handle it, J," Eddie said, "having somebody's blood on my hands."

"I bought the gun. I'll pull the trigger if it comes down to it."

Ed gave me a pointed look, and I sighed.

"This is going to be a thing, isn't it?"

Ed folded his arms.

Shit.

He was as stubborn as an Ox. It was his greatest strength and weakness. I could've convinced him with enough time, but the job needed to happen tonight, and he knew what was at stake. His sister was one bad high away from the morgue, and I needed to get out of the house before I smothered Tim in his sleep. He was my foster mom's latest boyfriend and worked for Penguin.

"I'll double the dose then," I said, opening my locker. "Should be strong enough to put a bull to sleep."

It was all going to be fine.

Probably.

=

It was not.

"Please," Eddie pleaded as he peeled himself from the wet ground. His eyes were red from crying, his wet blond hair matted against his shivering, bloody face. "We're just kids."

The gunman sneered. "Old enough to steal; old enough to die."

The muzzle flashed, and the sound was deafening. Blood splattered onto the side of my face. Eddie toppled to the floor, wide-eyed, face soaked in rainwater.

A strangled scream ripped from my throat, and my heart sank as I begged, hoped, and prayed that I was somehow hallucinating. That none of this was real. My best friend hadn't just died before my eyes.

What I saw next just about convinced me that I was.

Conditions met:

Direct blood relation to the former holder of the Blessing, presence of a meta-gene, and extreme danger and stress.

You've awakened an Otherworlder's Blessing.

Type: Jujutsu Kaisen System.

Function: Empower user with sorcery techniques they're compatible with and facilitate their growth.

Restrictions: Requires overwhelming amounts of ambient negative emotions to operate.

Requirement met: This world latent negative energy remains untapped.

Stand by to receive your first technique.

"What the hell is happening?" I muttered in utter disbelief.

"Haven't you been paying attention," the gunman snorted, pressing the gun against my skull.

"Little shit is too out of it to realize he's about to die," The other man laughed. "Just fucking do him already. I'm tired of standing in the rain. My boots are all wet."

The other man grunted, but before he could pull the trigger, I spasmed uncontrollably as my mind and body were baptized in information and pain. I crumbled to the floor, too out of it to even scream.

Congratulations. You're now a Level 1 Sorcerer (Grade 3)

Your First innate technique is—Inverse lv 1

"What the fuck," the gunman said. "Is he epileptic or something?"

"Doesn't matter. Just shoot him."

My body reacted on instinct, energy flooding out of me and wrapping around my body. The impact pounded my head into the ground, and my vision swam.

The pain was electric, and I was acutely aware of every bit of it. Energy raged inside me as my mind finally caught up to my body, and another strange screen appeared.

Inverse Level 1- While Inverse is activated, Strong attacks become weaker and vice versa. Inverse possesses a lower and upper limit of what can be categorized as a strong or weak attack. The level of the technique determines your vitality, cursed energy strength, and reserves.

A bullet to the head shattered the technique's current upper limit, but the odd technique still did its job, absorbing most of the power of the hit.

A small, distant part of me itched to explore the limits of this strange new power, but most of my attention focused on playing dead.

God or whoever was up there had decided to give me a second chance, and I was not about to waste it.

"You grab the blonde one," The bruiser said. "I'll grab the big boy."

Tense seconds passed as the gunman grabbed my legs and pulled me to their car. My back was scraped raw on the asphalt, but I bit my tongue and kept mum.

Instead, I took that time to review what the Blessing called my status.

Name: Julius Spencer

Race: Meta-Human--Sorcerer

Class: Sorcerer Level 1 (3rd Grade)

Techniques: Inverse Lv 1

Health: 350/350

CE: 150/200

SP: 30/40

STR: 15 AGI: 18

PER: 35 VIT: 26

END: 30 CP: 20

Skills:

Cursed Inventory Lv 1: Grants a small storage space in your soul. Summon and store objects corresponding to your current Cursed Energy pool. Current limit: 2

Meta Ability:

Enhanced Regeneration: Heal from wounds, injuries, and fatigue at an accelerated Rate. New cells are rapidly generated to replace the dying, granting the user functional immortality.

Injury Recovery rate: 48 hours maximum for all injuries and diseases.

Cursed Energy recovery: 50% every hour.

Stamina Recovery rate: 50% every 15 minutes.

The potency of ability is heavily dependent on nutrition.

Soon, I was clumsily raised and deposited in the cramped boot of an old car alongside Eddie and driven in the direction of the Gotham River.