System Supervillain, Chapter 109

Chapter 109 – Domestic

I knew that revealing myself as the System Administrator would ruffle some feathers. That was just a given. What I hadn’t figured on was someone actually starting a petition to try and get me removed as the admin.

Of course, the people who started the petition weren’t exactly a surprise. Turned out that Reality Slash and Robotnik (otherwise known as Slicer and MrRoboto on the Guild forums) hoped that they could use my supervillain status as a bit of leverage. Unfortunately, they seemed to have forgotten something, or at least misunderstood a few things. Starting with the fact that I didn’t actually answer to any of the governments that they petitioned, and, so long as I didn’t act outside Guild guidelines, the Guild wasn’t going to interfere one way or another.

Of course, the petition didn’t get too far before Web Mistress caught wind of it. In fact, the only reason it got as far as it did was because my coming out as the System Administrator caused more than the usual amount of internet traffic mentioning me. Still, there were only two hundred and twenty names on the petition before she found it, and shut it down.

Because I was a great guy, I decided to give everyone who signed the petition a free audit of their points. Many of them had some Disadvantages that could prove troubling to them, in different circumstances, so I thought I’d make things easier on them, by changing twenty points worth of them to something that was far less problematic. Namely, a Psychological Limitation that was Common frequency and Total intensity, saying that they could not lie, even to themselves.

Unsurprisingly, that caused even more fallout. Who would have guessed that a movement started by a reality controller who was pissed at being told no and an armor suited hero that tried to do a Nigerian prince scam on the new System Administrator would have a bunch of people in it with skeletons in their closets? Divorce attorneys were going to be making a killing in the next couple years, it seemed.

The best part? I sent each of them a personal note along with the audit, informing them that this was a ‘reward’ for their ‘brave and selfless actions’. I happily informed them that people would always know that their words were truthful now, so they would easily be able to earn a reputation for honesty. So, they couldn’t even say that I was punishing them.

Of course, I had my own Psychological Limitation about lying, but not as severe as theirs. Even so, it wasn’t exactly a lie. There were plenty of times throughout history that people have been ‘rewarded’ with a punishment, after all. The term ‘white elephant’ existed because, in southeast Asia, an albino elephant was supposed to be holy, or something like that. And since it was holy, anyone who had one had to feed and water it, but couldn’t use it for labor, meaning it was a serious drain on their resources. But, because it was holy, you couldn’t refuse when someone gifted it to you.

That was just one example, of course. In feudal times, more than one popular rival had been ‘rewarded’ by granting them a title and land that cast them out to the furthest reaches of the kingdom, meaning that they were well away from court, and could not capitalize on their popularity to cause trouble. Likewise, more than one military commander in history had been ‘rewarded’ by being granted the ‘honor’ of leading a suicide mission.

So, I didn’t lie. But that didn’t mean I was telling the truth, as they might see it. The clever ones would understand that lesson, and work around it. The not-so-clever ones, however, were likely going to find life very difficult in the future.

“You would think they’d have gotten the hint by now,” Web Mistress said as she draped herself over my back. We were taking a break, watching the Guild forums as people realized the ramifications of what I just did.

“Eh, it isn’t really too surprising,” I said. “Most supers have powers that mean they can do almost what they want. So, they aren’t really used to people clearly telling them no. Oh, the heroes out there follow laws and such, but they rarely have someone tell them no, and have it stick. At the very least, they have some way to fight back, or at least complain.”

“And they have no way to fight back against you, especially ones like Reality Slash, where you’ve basically put a bell on them, and they physically can’t act against you,” she nodded. “That has to get on their nerves. You think they’re going to get the balls to do something stupid?”

I stroked her arm, and grinned. “Oh, I doubt they need much to do something stupid. But whether they’ll do something stupid enough that I have to step in and do something about it? No, I don’t think so. They’ll bitch and moan, but they won’t do anything that I have to respond to.”

“Daddy, play!”

That demand came from Sophie, my cute little daughter with Tammy, my primary maid. However, Zedong and Isobel, two more of my kids with Bloodmoon and Web Mistress, respectively, also ran up behind her, echoing that sentiment. Of course, they were only leading the charge, being the two-year olds in the room. The other women in Devastation had had their children, as well, and the little terrors were just now starting to crawl around.

I checked the time on the screen. It was almost time, so there wasn’t any harm in starting early, I guess. Looking down at the girl hugging my leg, I grinned. “Well, Aunt Electra should be coming over with Uriel soon, so we can all play together. But what should we play, hmm?”

“Slides! Slides! Slides!”

The two-year-old delegation made their decision quite clear, in a unanimous vote. To be fair, they always wanted to play with ice slides, since every time I made an icy jungle gym for them to play on, it was never the same shape twice. Plus, all of them enjoyed the cold, by this point. Or, rather, they were used to it, because that was mainly what they knew.

Most superpowers were not exactly ‘safe’ to play with around children. My ice abilities were one of the ones that could be made safe, if you made a few basic precautions, like not running on the ice, and Web Mistress could obviously take them all into one of her virtual worlds to play. She’d actually custom-made a few, just for the kids. However, other powers, like Stolen Victory’s strength, or Pyra’s fire powers, were wholly unsuited for playing with kids, outside of certain situations. The image of Stolen Victory standing with one arm out, holding up three two-year-olds without even feeling the strain was something of a hit on the Guild forums. Especially with her embarrassed expression, and the fact that the smaller kids were around her feet, also wanting up.

I know that most people didn’t really think about such domestic scenes when they thought of superheroes, and certainly not with supervillains, but, from my experience, most people who wore the costume wanted to be normal people outside of it. Well, not ‘normal’, normal. But they didn’t want the pressure of always having to embody the person they were in costume. In costume, they were Heroman, defender of Topeka (yes, an actual hero, back in the 1920s), but at home, he wanted to be just ‘Earl’, a loving father and provider for his family.

For most supers, wearing the mask allowed them to be someone they couldn’t otherwise. Of course, the mask wasn’t always the costume. If you sat a psychologist down with a super, there was a not insignificant chance that they’d come away with the conclusion that the true mask was the one the super wore in their ‘civilian’ life, and that when they put on the costume, that was their true self. Even if it wasn’t to that extent, the costume still allowed supers to do things more freely than they would in ‘real life’. Much like how people were more likely to go wild in games, or were far more confrontational on the internet than they would be if there was the possibility of consequences for their actions.

And, honestly, that was what likely had Reality Slash and Robotnik in such a state. My abilities, as System Administrator, tore their mask, and made them have to deal with consequences, not just in costume, but in their ‘real life’, as well. I could only imagine how troubling that would be for them.

I led the troupe of children along to the training area. It was a wide area, perfectly suited for both martial arts training and some limited power use, as well. Of course, you couldn’t really go all-out in an underground structure, but it was at least large enough that the kids could have a nice play area. The fact that it was designed to drain away water from melting ice without problems just made it even better for this task.

“Oh, Master,” Serafina said, looking up as I entered. She and the former Squadron Supreme members were still recovering from their pregnancies, of course. Even in a world with superpowers, it took time to get back into ‘fighting trim’ after making a whole person and carrying them around for nine months. So, like my other pets, they were now working out in order to get back in shape.

Now, I could have just ordered them to just take it easy, and go slow on the exercise, but I wasn’t going to do that, and not just because them not being able to fight would defeat much of the purpose of having them in Devastation. A lot of their identity was tied to their figures, but also their ability to fight and act as supers. Unlike Tammy, who had been a normal person before I claimed her, and had settled nicely into a pleasantly MILFy form that was in that middle ground between overweight and fit, their lives had been based around fighting, and being at peak fitness. Getting back to that shape would be better for them, mentally, especially in the long run.

“Sorry, girls, the little ones wanted to play. Are you about done?”

“Yes, Master,” Pyra said, as she rose from the bench press, where she’d had a plate on either end of the bar, with Foxtrot spotting. “We’d just finished up, since it is about time for Electra to come over. Shall we help you clear away the equipment?”

“Sure. I see 135 on the bar. You hit a new max?”

Pyra beamed at the compliment. “Yes, Foxtrot and I both managed it for one. I know, that’s nothing compared to you or Stolen Victory in costume, but we’ve been working hard to get stronger.”

To be fair, with the System, Pyra and Foxtrot both had a 10 STR. They could both lift, just barely, a full-grown man, but would have trouble doing more than staggering a few steps with him. They relied much more on their powers to fight. I wasn’t much better, myself. Using some of the XP I had earned since the System came online, I had bumped my STR up to 15, but that still meant that pushing 225 on the bench was an ‘on a good day’ kind of struggle, and my workouts usually topped out at 195. With the strength enhancements in my costume, that put me to a 25 STR, which meant that I could probably lift a horse and its rider at once, if I needed to. Stolen Victory, meanwhile, had a STR of 40 in costume, meaning that she could lift an elephant.

Of course, raw strength wasn’t everything, I reminded myself, as we pushed the workout equipment to the walls. One need only look at the fact that many people who were stronger than me, or more powerful than me, now either served me, or had been destroyed by me and mine. I wasn’t a strongman, I was a thief and assassin. If I was getting in contests trying to lift heavy shit and put it back down, I was doing something wrong.

I had just started building the latest iteration of an icy playhouse for the kids when I smelled the faint trace of ozone that I associated with Electra, and her method of teleporting through electrical lines. It was only maybe a half-second, if that, of warning, before the static zap sounded through the air. The children were startled, but not afraid. They’d learned about ‘Aunt Electra’ and her weird way of appearing out of thin air by this point.

Zedong elected himself the spokesman, and said, “Aunt ‘Lec-ra! Dad make play slide!”

“Oh, is that so?” Electra smiled, as she let little Uriel down, so her son could join the rest of the two-year-old delegation. “Well, then it sounds like we came at just the right time.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek as I worked. “Never would have expected to see you as a house-husband, Master.”

I chuckled, and bumped my hip against hers, lightly. “What? I may be a villain, but these are my kids. So long as everyone behaves, and no one gets hurt beyond bumps and bruises, everything’s good. They know to watch their step on the ice, and the floor is padded so they would have to fall very badly to really hurt themselves. Let kids be kids. There’s enough time for adulting when they’re older.”