Chương 43: Chapter 42

Victoria cranked the engine of the Camry, but before they could fire it up and blast out of the parking lot, several people came running out of the restaurant. Fortunately, Tiff recognized them, so she wasn't worried that they were suddenly going to be attacked in their getaway vehicle. Victoria saw them, glanced at Tiff, who nodded, and rolled down the windows.

"Mr. Bean, Mr. Morelli," Tiff said in greeting.

"Did you need something?"

"We, ah, thought it best to give you this," Frank said, holding up a suspiciously familiar, lumpy beige sack. He sounded slightly bewildered while his companion was staring at the Camry as if questioning Tiff's choice of villainous transit. Well, the joke's on him, because Tiff didn't have a choice! She reached out and accepted the gift, immediately confirming her fears. Another bag of money, though this one was much larger than the one she received from 24-Heaven.

Tiff peered inside it and nearly had a heart attack. Much larger, indeed. She quickly scrunched the top closed and narrowed her eyes.

"Not that I'm not grateful," she said, turning back to Frank, "But why are you giving this to me? Yes, I understand. I'm the boss, and yes, it's good that you understand, I want my cut for my services. But I would have assumed I'd need to fight for this, no? Aren't gangsters notoriously stingy with their money? They make so many songs about it, at least. Are all gangs in the habit of giving money away?" The two men glanced at each other, unsure if Tiff was messing with them, but she certainly was not.

Gangster etiquette wasn't something she was very familiar with.

"It's part of the job," Frank eventually said after mulling some words around.

"To your point, yes, common thugs would do unspeakable things for a little bit of cash. But those are the type of people to rob somebody at gunpoint. Gangs are a little different. Even as…simple as ours is, there's structure. And money does you no good if it's sitting under a mattress, waiting for somebody else to steal it. That's what accounts are for. We felt it best if we handed this off before some of the, shall we say, more frivolous members decided to help themselves?"

"I see," Tiff said.

"But that still doesn't quite tell me why you'd come running out here to pass this off without delay. Surely, anybody else would be content to wait a day or two, perhaps skim a little off the top while they think I'm not looking?" Frank rapidly shook his head.

"With all due respect, after today, I don't think anybody wants to risk upsetting you. And besides…like I said. We're organized. The System incentivizes us to pass this up the structure. Didn't you get a Quest?"

"No," Tiff sighed.

"But that doesn't really surprise me. I've gotten many other Quests, but since I've appointed my [Vizier], certain ones stopped showing up. I'm willing to guess she received one, and now that I'm aware of it, I'll check in with her to make sure she's not worrying over scheduling a pickup. That's something we can discuss another day."

"Speaking of which," Frank asked, "How do we reach you?"

"Yet another thing to set up," Tiff sighed.

"Don't worry, I'll set something up. In the meantime, you can leave a note with the clerk at 24-Heaven on Washington and Mulberry." The men nodded, still looking unsure of their new relationship with a Supervillain, but in the same vein, so was Tiff. She had no real experience as a Villain and she was firing from the hip. So far, in her eyes, all she had to do was act haughty, tell her big sister to beat up bullies, and people would throw money at her. Not a bad gig, if she could get it.

But that did make her wonder as she fell into contemplation while Victoria drove away: what incentive could the System offer that would make greedy people voluntarily give their money away? Maybe levels to their Class? Skills? Buffs? Or some other tangible rewards? Tiff knew the System had its own set of currencies, if the [Luck Coin] was anything to go by. Maybe it handed out something like… [Baddie Coupons]? [Minion Tickets]? Tiff wasn't the most creative person in the world and she wasn't afraid to admit it.

Thinking of Candice brought its own set of problems. Tiff didn't want to dunk her new friend in the deep end of the greyscale immediately. Preferably, she wouldn't ever need to set foot in the shallow end either, but that was wishful thinking, and technically they'd already muddied the waters. At the very least, regardless of whatever Quests the System gave Candice and how she felt about them, Tiff wouldn't let her go down to meet with the gang alone. It was a shame they needed to retrieve the money manually.

If only there were a way to deposit it remotely, like a [Core ATM] or [Deposit Box]. But as far as Tiff knew, there wasn't, and thinking about it made her head hurt. She felt like she'd done nothing but scowl and sigh for the last few hours, and she needed something to cheer her up.

"Tori," Tiff asked from the back seat, "Can we stop and get some ice cream?" Victoria nearly choked from a sudden barking laugh. She glanced up at the mirror, as if expecting to see somebody else taking up the entirety of her back seat. Tiff couldn't really blame Victoria, since her voice didn't sound anything like it had back at the meeting. It was soft, unsure, and needy.

"When you ask like that, how can I say no?" Victoria laughed.

"But we've gotta wait. I need to call Dad back." Tiff nodded. She hadn't forgotten that he tried calling the moment they got to the car, but hadn't been able to pick up because of the visitors. It would not do to blow their cover when they were just getting their foot in the door. Victoria put her phone on speaker and slotted it into the holder on her dash.

"Call Dad." The phone took a second to register the command, but after a faint buzz and a quick ring, it connected.

"Tori! There you are. Good work today! Is Tiff there with you?"

"Hi Dad!" Tiff called from the back seat.

"Hey sweetie," Rick called back. He sounded very cheery, considering what his daughters had just gone through, but his voice carried a hint of relief.

"Tori, I think most of the debrief can wait until you get home, but I wanted to confirm real quick: are we letting these guys go?"

"For now," Victoria sighed.

"They're strictly small-fry. No need to get the [Troubleshooters] involved."

"Okay," Rick said, and some rapid typing could be heard clacking away at his keyboard.

"Just wanted to make sure. I had an alert posted and ready to go, but it's scrubbed." He let out a contented sigh and made a small slurping noise, probably draining a cup of coffee.

"Now. I heard you girls are going out to celebrate, so I won't keep you away from your ice cream, but don't eat too much! Dinner's in an hour, so don't ruin your appetites! Oh, and Tiff, I've got a surprise for you when you get back. I think you'll find it useful." Somewhere in the background, Amy's distraught voice rang out.

"THEY GET ICE CREAM?!"

"Ooop, looks like I'm about to have a rebellion," Rick chuckled as stomping could be heard.

"Staysafebye!"

"DAD DON'T YOU HANG-" The call ended. Victoria grinned into the rearview mirror and Tiff chuckled. Amy was already mad at them; now she was going to be extra pissed.

"What do you think's for dinner?" Tiff asked.

"This is Dad," Victoria smirked.

"Not Mom. What are the chances he's barbequing ribs?"

"If dinner is in an hour? Unlikely."

"Then it's takeout. I'm betting Chinese."

"Oooh, I hope it's from Golden Wall."

"You just like that place because it's got a giant goldfish in the live fish tank up front," Victoria laughed.

"Hey," Tiff grinned.

"Can you blame me? It's cool. Adds to the ambiance." Victoria pulled into the parking lot for 24-Heaven and parked a decent distance away from the stoners. She chuffed out a few of her remaining chuckles, glanced in the mirror one more time, and paused. She didn't have to say anything. Tiff knew exactly what she was thinking. There was no way it would be worth the hassle of getting Tiff out of the Camry, just to stuff her back in moments later.

"I want chocolate," she instantly stated.

"Choo got it, mang," Victoria said with a cheesy accent and a sloppy salute. She left the car running, cranked the AC, and got out. Tiff glanced over at the stoners, who were busy trying to figure out if Victoria, [Unyielding Champion of the Dark Queen], was a figment of their imagination as she crunched by them, wearing her full armor. Tiff could only imagine the look on the clerk's face. She gave it even odds that they were dumbfounded, or simply shrugged it off as yet another Tuesday.

Several minutes passed and Tiff started to get anxious. Not that she was uncomfortable, not with the AC running and the fact that the dress was far more wearable than it had any right to be, but hopping into the convenience store for some soft serve should be a quick process. Step 1: rock up to the fancy machine. Step 2: grab a bowl. Step 3: swirl it around like a madman while pouring in the 'serve, trying to maximize space potential or creating funky shapes. Bada bing bada boom, done!

And yet, Victoria had been inside for over 5 minutes, which, when loafing in a car, felt like an hour. Tiff was just considering the feasibility of squeezing herself out the door when the darkened glass of the 24-Heaven entrance slid open. Victoria had two bowls, one much larger than the other, but Tiff wouldn't begrudge her sister a bigger portion so long as she got enough for herself.

"Here," Victoria said with a grunt, crouching down to cram herself inside.

"Don't get it on your dress…I bet that's hell to clean." Tiff grimaced and wiggled her fingers as she reached forward for the bowl. How was she supposed to wash this? Dry clean only, that was a given, but who would she take it to? Wait. Didn't she have a laundromat on her books now? Or was that coin-op only? Shoot. She'd have to outsource, wouldn't she? Tiff sighed and put it off, electing to concentrate on her ice cream rather than what it might do to her dress.

"What took so long?" Tiff asked around a mouthful of spoon. That was the problem with generic spoons at corner marts. They were either those really crappy white ones that cut her mouth on their thin plastic edges, or they were the colorful ones that reminded Tiff of "baby's first spoon." These were the latter, and they were large. Good for shoveling buckets of ice cream into one's face, but horrible for people with small mouths. Like Tiff.

"We got a message," Victoria said with a frown.

"Oh no," Tiff sighed as they pulled up to a light. Next to them, a large white SUV was also stopped, and in the back seat, a small girl had her face squashed against the window, staring at Tiff with huge, disbelieving eyes. Tiff froze… realized she didn't care… and shrugged. She took another bite of ice cream and nodded at the girl, waving her spoon in greeting. The child's mouth fell open and Tiff could see a slightly greasy arc form as the girl waved back, dragging her hand across the glass.

The light turned green and the SUV pulled away faster than the Camry could ever hope to accelerate.

"I…don't think it's bad," Victoria said hesitantly.

"The clerk didn't seem like he was in trouble. It was the young dude; he was just bored."

"It couldn't be the 5th Streeters," Tiff muttered.

"We just told them about this place today."

"And I'd give them at least a week to clean all the crap from their undies before they try messing with you again," Victoria agreed.

"No, this was something very unexpected. That's why I'm on the fence with how serious it is." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it"Hit me with it," Tiff groaned, shutting her eyes.

"Don't leave me in suspense."

"It's from Haxus," Victoria said, holding up a memory stick.

"The clerk said there's a message on this; it wasn't safe to leave a letter."

"Haxus?" Tiff frowned.

"Why would he be trying to contact me?"

"I can think of many different reasons." Victoria shook her head.

"Not all of them pleasant. We'll show it to Dad and get his opinion before doing anything. Sound good?" Tiff nodded in reply, electing to use her precious mouth-space to finish her treat.

"Come on in, girls!" Rick called from the front door. Victoria was extracting Tiff from the back seat and both were eager to oblige. Though it might not have shown on Tiff's face, it was a stressful day, and she needed to relax. She needed Victoria to relax, too; no matter how hard the best big sister in the world tried to put on a cool act, Tiff wanted her limber and ready. Not just so Victoria could protect her on a moment's notice, but chillin' at home like a big pile of ooze. Victoria earned her rest.

Tiff shuffled her way inside, squeezing through the front door as much as her dress would allow, which was the final straw. As bizarrely comfortable as the dress was, it was time to take it off. But of course, she couldn't do it herself. That would be too easy, and the System didn't want anything to be easy for Tiff. She started shuffling toward her room as she heard beeps and boops coming from the kitchen.

"Amy!" Tiff yelled out.

"Come help me with this!"

"Why?" Amy yelled back.

"I'm busy!" Tiff tilted her head.

"With what?" And what was that noise? It sounded like the microwave…but even if dinner was takeout, it'd still be fresh. They wouldn't need to nuke it.

"I'm going to beat the level!!"

"On the microwave?"

"Yeah! IT PLAYS DOOM." Tiff slapped her palm over her face, just as Rick exited his office, chuckling. He took a look at Tiff, probably to see if he could offer assistance, but realized instantly this was not a job for him.

"Amy, help your sister with her dress," he sighed, walking into the kitchen.

"But Dad…!"

"Don't make me take away microwave privileges."

"This is your fault," Amy complained in a sing-songy voice.

"You shouldn't have installed games on the microwave if you didn't want me to play." Amy came bouncing into the front room and instantly forgot to be grumpy. Tiff shook her head; Amy could be such a rollercoaster at times. Thankfully, the dress was much easier to take off than it was to put on, and once she had it safely stored away, Tiff felt like a new woman. She felt light as a feather, dancing around on her tippy toes like a ballerina, like the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders.

And then she stopped to consider… it sort of had. The dress weighed almost as much as she did, so it wasn't a figment of her imagination that her legs naturally wanted to spring up with every step. Wasn't that what they did with horses to get them to canter? Make them prance around all day with ankle weights? Or was this closer to Dragon Ball Z? Tiff didn't want a training arc, thank you very much. She didn't want Goku armor.

Amy pestered Tiff with questions the entire time, some of which Tiff was willing to answer. They'd left the youngest VanDyne out of so much today; she felt obliged to share. But she didn't want to explain everything twice, so she held back to share at dinner… which was thankfully right around the corner. The doorbell rang; Amy perked up like a guard dog and rushed to the door.

Several moments later, as Tiff and Victoria lounged in the kitchen, Amy and Rick entered, each holding bulging white bags emitting a delicious aroma.

"Hope you're hungry for Chinese," Rick grinned.

"If you aren't, you're a heathen," Amy added. Her eyes were closed in bliss and she had her nose positioned directly over the bag, trying to funnel as much of that smell into her nose as physically possible.

"And more for me."

"Relax, there's enough for everybody," Rick chided. Drinks were poured, places were set, and for the first several minutes, nobody spoke as a silent war broke out over who got to be closer to their favorite dishes. Tiff, despite being the smallest and weakest, with very little appetite, was very territorial. She scored the boxes with the chicken fried rice and the sweet and sour pork, and she brandished her fork menacingly whenever somebody reached over without asking.

Not that she had exclusive dibs on those two items, but if she didn't protect her claim, her sisters would eat everything. They'd already demolished the packet of wontons, and Tiff only got 1! As dinner progressed, and after Tiff started slowing down, Rick decided it was time.

"So," he said conversationally, as if he wasn't leading a mission debrief, "Let's talk about today." Tiff nodded and Victoria quickly shoveled half a container of broccoli beef onto her plate before Amy could steal it.

"I want to hear your impressions. Tiff: What was the objective? Do you think you accomplished your goals? How do you feel overall?" While not her usual dinner conversation, it didn't catch Tiff off guard. She heard her parents discuss their work thousands of times and this felt like a normal venting sesh.

"I wanted to assert dominance," Tiff said, mulling it over on a juicy piece of bright red pork.

"To that end, I think it was a success. I didn't want the gang to underestimate me or treat me like a kid. I mean, I know that's exactly what I am, but the System made me a Supervillain, and that's what people are expecting. I don't know how to play the role yet, and I'm not sure if I went too far." Tiff paused to consider the entire question, thinking back on how everything went down.

"I wish it could have been different, though I don't know how. Somebody tried to shoot me. That was scary. But it ended up shooting Tori instead, because of her Skill. That was even worse. I don't like how violent gangs are, but that's my life now, isn't it? I'm a boss? I provide protection, organization, leadership, and direction. Well, I gave new directions, and I'm worried if they'll be followed or not. Oh, and I have to upgrade their backroom now, because I said I would."

Rick's face was rather tense, but he turned his attention to Victoria. The eldest daughter took another bite and sighed. She was used to this sort of thing.

"We got off to a rocky start," Victoria mused.

"Could have been better. Could have been worse. You saw. I'm the muscle, but that don't mean a thing if there's no point of reference. Some sort of fight was inevitable. Wish I could say this was the first time I was shot at. Glad it's not, though. These guys are punks, but they're serious. More than the kids who hang around corner shops begging for smokes. Some of these guys are hitting hard drugs and they'll do time. It's not a matter of if, only when… and no amount of rules or the fear of God will change that.

I was 40-60 for having you call them in. The world would be a better place with fewer gangs around… but I think some of them might be salvageable." Rick nodded again, and this wasn't something completely new to him. He'd watched everything on Victoria's cams… though Tiff had to wonder. Now that Tori took off the armor, where did they go? Or did she take them off first before dispelling the suit? Tiff supposed it really didn't matter. Rick cleared his throat and put his fork down.

"From a comms side, I'd say this was a disaster," he said, shaking his head.

"With no way to contact you, things could have gone south very fast. And when that guy shot you? Gave me a real scare. I'm glad Tori's Skill works on things that move as fast as bullets. Cameras worked. I got plenty of footage. Weird, though… a lot of it came out blurry whenever I tried focusing on Tiff. I'm guessing it's part of the Supervillain aura. Or maybe it's the dress? Hard to tell. I know something is off with that thing… no way that's normal material. I'm also keen to turn them in… but I'm biased.

I work for Heroes; one less gang is one less problem on our plate. System offered me quite the reward to betray you… I ignored it, obviously. I think I'll keep them on my radar, just in case they decide Tiff isn't the leader they want to follow."

"Fair," Victoria agreed.

"We're going to have to go down there every few weeks anyway. One: we need to pick up the loot. Two: it'd be good to keep them on their toes. Make them truly understand we mean business and we're watching them."

"I could watch them from here," Tiff pointed out.

"The TAS lets me do that."

"You might have to," Rick said.

"If you want to be sure they're not going to stab you in the back. Oh, which they absolutely will, by the way, no questions asked. This always happens with Villains who rule with an iron fist. Leadership through fear doesn't breed loyalty. You be careful, Tiff. Never go near them without Tori."

"Oh, speaking of," Tiff perked up.

"We got a message today." Rick looked at her curiously, obviously confused.

"I mean, when we got back. Were you still watching when we got ice cream?"

"No, I turned you off after the call," Rick said.

"Maintaining the connection to that link was a strain. Doable, but next time, if there is a next time, we need more than 2 days to set things up."

"So I went inside the shop," Victoria explained.

"And got a note from Haxus."

"Haxus?" Rick frowned.

"Isn't he that shady, grey-market Tech dealer?" He glanced over at Amy, who was shoveling chow mein into her face. She gulped and shoveled faster.

"Yeah," Tiff said.

"We don't know what he wants. We haven't heard the message yet."

"Let's worry about one thing at a time," Rick said.

"But I think it's safe to say that your first mission- or I suppose, in your case, your first deal -went smoothly. Good job, both of you. Also…never do that again; you scared the shit out of me. I will absolutely be telling your mother." Amy gasped and Tiff chuckled, while Victoria took that opportunity to steal the last of the dumplings.

"I know," Rick said doggedly.

"It's a hollow wish that can only be filled with empty promises. For whatever reason, you're a mob boss now, Tiff. We'll build the support you need."

"But…why?" Tiff asked.

"That's…the least Heroic thing you can do?"

"Tiff," Rick said seriously.

"I think there's something you need to hear, something your IPSS class isn't ever going to tell you. There's a reason it's called the Grey scale. Not the black-scale or the white-scale. This world we live in? This wonderful, fun-" he glanced at his daughters fighting over fortune cookies, "-delicious world we live in? It's messed up. The System plays all angles. It'll just as soon help you as it'll give me a Quest to take you down. It plays every angle. That means 'bad guys' are never going away.

And that doesn't mean 'bad guys' are only found in dark alleys. You know this from your visit to the DMA. There's just as many good Heroes as ones who're ready to come out punching. As much as I wish it wasn't true, at some level, the world needs drama. It feeds off it. Better to have a Villain you trust than one you can't predict." Tiff let Rick's words digest… along with her meal. With the heavy topics out of the way, the jovial, joking atmosphere returned.

There wasn't much food left, but Tiff had eaten her fill. She reached for a cookie, broke it open, and stared at the tiny slip of paper inside.

Your finances will be a foundation for your financial dreams.

Tiff rolled her eyes. Thank you, fortune cookie. She tossed it into the center of the table so everyone else could see her fate. It was a tradition, comparing everyone's fortunes, seeing who got the shortest end of the stick.

"Mine's dumb," Amy pouted.

"It just says: you're never a loser until you quit trying. Tori, what about yours?""'Man with hand in pants holds rod of power'." Amy spluttered and Tiff did a double take. Rick laughed but shook his head.

"That's not what it says. Nice try, though."

"Fine," Victoria grinned. She looked at her fortune again and her smile grew wider.

"A good plan violently executed right now is far better than a perfect plan executed next week."

"No way," Amy denied.

"Tori," Rick groaned. But Victoria shook her head.

"Look," she said, passing the slip around.

"I can't make this shit up."

"Well," Rick said, staring at the paper in disbelief, "On that rather fitting note…Tiff. Come to my office. I've got something for you." In some cases, that might sound ominous. But Tiff wasn't a 40-year-old salaryman about to be laid off, so she wasn't too worried. The group all trailed after Rick as he put his dishes in the sink and started cleaning up. Once that was done, they all stood around his computer, staring at the various screens set up, none of them on.

"Here," Rick said proudly, pushing a tablet toward Tiff.

"Go on, boot it up. It took me a long time to get it just right, but I think this will prove useful. Especially if there's going to be more days like today." The thing looked like an old, off-brand iPad, several years out of date. It was encased in one of those super-rubbery protectors that claimed to be "life-proof"... whatever that meant. Tiff hoped it could survive being dropped on the floor, but she was never going to test it by letting it get run over by a truck.

She turned it over in her hands, quickly found the power button, and turned it on. She let out a gasp and almost tested the durability claims… but she stopped herself before it slipped from her hands.

"It's… my TAS?!" Indeed it was. Much like the real thing on her computer, this screen showed the main menu options. Everything was there, from the map to the mail, and as Tiff pulled up selections, she found herself liking it even more. It had all the conveniences she expected from a mobile device, such as touchscreen input, zooming by pinching her fingers, and scrolling with a swipe. The map feature didn't lose out in the slightest, despite being on a much smaller screen.

Tiff had already forgotten everybody and was slowly navigating toward the newest Rift when Rick let out a laugh.

"Yup, that's it!" He said.

"Sorry it took so long. I promised you this thing a week ago. It wasn't easy, I gotta say," he added with a sigh.

"It did not want to cooperate. At first I thought it might be a difference between operating systems, but then I realized the System made this thing, and it shouldn't matter at all. I can only assume it was being stubborn because, well, I'm not you."

"That's right," Tiff muttered.

"Not every option is available when I'm not around…isn't that right?"

"Yeah," Amy confirmed.

"We found that out when we tested the map." Tiff stared at the tablet in her hands… this would make her life much, much easier. Or potentially harder. Now that the TAS was mobile, Tiff could take it with her everywhere she went. Including to school. That way, she could find out who was getting all those Quests to give swirlies to nerds! And maybe make notes on when her next tests were. … which, with her ability to manipulate the map, she could easily find out the answers for.

Which she totally wouldn't, because that was cheating! And cheating was bad! Tiff shook the truly villainous thoughts out of her head, but the applications of this new tool seemed limitless. Maybe she could take it to the library and finally find out what the mail function did. Maybe she could oversee her Controlled Areas during lunch and throw out some upgrades. Maybe she could somehow hook Candice up with it and connect her to her finances and bookkeeping?

Either way, Tiff was going to have a hard time putting this down… which meant she needed to be very careful or it was going to get confiscated. She'd need to make sure it had a stellar protection system installed so nobody could open it but her. In the meantime, she gripped it tightly in her hand, its safety completely forgotten, as she turned to her dad. Rick gave her a cheesy smile and held his arms wide open. Tiff launched herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He swung her around like a noodly pendulum, patting her on the back.

"Oh, Dad, this is fantastic!" Tiff gushed.

"That's my baby girl," Rick beamed.

"I knew you'd see the value in the Tech side."

"Nobody's saying there isn't any," Victoria said, exasperated. Rick gave her a look and smirked.

"No, but you're thinking it." Tiff could practically hear Victoria shrug. But as she swung from his neck, she only had one real question.

"Dad, how hard was this to make? Can I have another?" Rick paused, letting Tiff slump down to the ground, and gave her a disbelieving look. Seeing Tiff's hopeful face, he could only sigh. He covered his eyes with the back of his hand as he stared at the ceiling dramatically.

"Don't you see?" He said to nobody in particular.

"This is why you don't have kids."