JB: Chapter 14

The First Metropolitan Bank tried to brush me off at first. I looked like a Kid in a Martial Arts Gi, after all. That was hardly something that inspired confidence in terms of business. They changed their tune incredibly quickly the second I reached into my satchel and pulled out a few of the disks I had transmuted from the raw gold and platinum ores of the two, car-sized asteroids I had mined. Apparently, with so much of the World's Technology advancing at an accelerated rate, demand for gold and platinum in industrial uses was high.

President Rickard, back in the seventies, had allowed banks to stockpile reserves, an order that had never been repealed thanks to the work of people like Doctor Thomas Wayne in the field of Bionics, the Electronics put together by Doctor Briefs of CapsuleCorp, and the Aerospace Engineering Work of LuthorCorp, now LexCorp, Engineers. The thought was that the industrial uses in terms of wiring and the like for Platinum and Gold would only increase going forward, and having large reserves of both in American Banks would help shore up the shaky US Economy in the aftermath of the Nixon Scandals and unrest of the late sixties and early seventies.

All this was summarized for me in a brief presentation, then I was hit with the exchange rate, which was damn favorable. It seemed that between the industrial need for Gold and Platinum growing as predicted, and the recent return of Costumed Heroics to the forefront of the news, the prices for both had shot up dramatically. If anything, Clark's Estimates for prices were somewhat outdated. At One-Thousand-Nine-Hundred Dollars per ounce for Gold and Two-Thousand-One-Hundred Dollars per ounce for Platinum, the price was highly favorable for me. My entire ship's hold was worth about ten million more Dollars than Clark's estimate had figured.

Regardless, I was able to open an account with First Metropolitan once they weighed and measured everything in my satchel. It was determined that in my satchel, I currently had Six-hundred-forty-thousand US Dollars worth of Gold and Platinum at the moment, with First Metropolitan walking me through the process of opening a bank account. Apparently, there was a procedure for doing so that allowed the circumvention of the need for a Valid Government ID or Social Security Number, which had been put in place in the thirties and forties.

The Hippolyta Act, which had been forced through as a Wartime Measure by FDR on the basis that the Old JSA had allies without valid modern identification cards, such as Queen Hippolyta of Themescyra, who had been based in the US during World War Two, and thus needed an American Bank Account to pay for everyday items while going about life when not on the various Spy-Catching or Pacfic Theater Combat Missions that the JSA often went on at the time. After the JSA had been disbanded during the McCarthy Era in the Fifties, though, the then newly-created Department of Extranormal Operations had championed the Act as a way to keep Superpowered Agents on-side.

There were a few more forms to fill out for opening a Bank Account under the Hippolyta Act than there generally were for opening a Bank Account the usual way, but the fact that I had helped Superman Earlier and that the act had been seen by dozens of people, including a news crew that was around to film Superman and Metallo's Fight, helped immensely. People in this town just loved the Boyscout and were pretty eager to help out his friends, especially if all they had to do to help out was to walk them through some extra paperwork. The whole thing wound up taking a couple of hours, but by the end, I was the proud owner of a Bank Account with the First Metropolitan Bank under the Hippolyta Act Stipulations.

Of Course, First Metropolitan also had branches in most cities of more than fifteen thousand people throughout the American Northeast and Mid-Atlantic, along with some parts of Canada. From the tip of the Labrador Peninsula in Canada, south to Hatton Corners on the Virginia-North Carolina Border, and west to the West Virginia-Ohio, Pennsylvania-Ohio, and West Virginia-Kentucky Borders in the US, as well as the Quebec-Ontario Border in Canada. That covered a decent chunk of territory, of course, but if I wanted to bank any further South or West than that, I would need to transfer funds to another bank, which came with fees, let alone if I wanted to do banking further internationally.

"Some places are a nightmare when it comes to that sort of thing. You'd be surprised how many are still reluctant to hook into the global economy, even now that the Soviets have, you still get tinpot dictators in places like Qurac, Bialya, Santa Prisca, and so on. Then there's the straight-up Narcostates like Corto Maltese, Nueva Grenada, or what's left of the Red Ribbon Empire in the Golden Triangle. Even some places you wouldn't think would be a crapshoot can be." Informed the Bank Associate helping to walk me through things.

She was still a couple years off yet from getting mixed up with the costumed set, but I recognized the Redhead. It was Trixie Collins, the future personal assistant to Booster Gold. I knew who she was the second she showed up to help walk me through the forms. She was still a Junior Clerk at First Metropolitan now, but I knew that by the time that Booster showed up, she'd have been promoted twice before taking the Job as Booster's PA due to a crush she had on the man. Right now, she was still a nineteen-year-old, though the tailored suit and skirt combo told me that she had the ambition to get those promotions. She certainly had the brains.

"How so?" I questioned.

"Well, take Japan, for example. They have several different regional banks and a couple of nationwide ones. There's also a LexCorp Branch in Tokyo, which means that LexBank is in Tokyo too. To make matters worse, they don't use a national credit score system, every bank has its own. This is largely thanks to how most banks in Japan are owned by larger conglomerates, all of which compete against each other. Think CapsuleCorp out of Nishi City, which owns CapsuleBank, along with CapsuleCom, CapsuleTech, and a half-dozen other subsidiaries. Then you have a longstanding institution of small lending agencies called Sarakin, often with ties to the Yakuza. The whole country is fragmented, but its system is so archaic that it forms a natural barrier to any foreign bank trying to capture their market." Explained Trixie.

"You seem quite knowledgeable about this sort of thing. If I were to ask, would you be able to invest some of the money in my accounts?" I queried.

"I mean, I don't have a broker's license if that's what you mean? I still need to take and pass some of the exams before getting promoted to that position." Frowned Trixie.

"I have no doubt you will pass. You have displayed a good level of knowledge." I remarked.

"That's sweet of you to say, but there's a reason people study for these tests. If it were easy, everyone would be doing it, after all." Demurred Trixie.

"If it were easy, it would be barely worth doing." I shrugged.

"Still, I appreciate the vote of confidence. Tell you what, I'll go ahead and put a note in your file saying you wanted to invest and kick it up the chain of command. Someone in the Brokerage Department should see it." Offered Trixie.

"I appreciate it." I nodded.

"Any limits you want me to put down?" Asked Trixie.

"Do not use more than half the money in the account to make trades." I insisted.

"Noted." Affirmed Trixie.

She typed away on her keyboard for a few moments, and I sat in the provided chair just waiting patiently for her to finish. For a few moments, the only thing that could be heard was the clacking of fingers typing on keyboards. Unfortunately, that wasn't to last. My Scouter beeped a couple of minutes into Trixie annotating my file for the Brokerage Department of First Metropolitan. I registered a decent-sized Ki signature even as my Tuffle Scouter beeped and numbers began to flash across the screen. A Power Level of Eight-Hundred, no real danger blinked in front of my face, though that could be deceiving.

It was also fairly strange for Earth. I could tell that the average human had a power level of anywhere between one to ten on the Arcosian's Power Level Scale. While I was willing to bet that some Peak Humans could get into the low-to-mid Hundreds just based on raw physical prowess, you generally needed some kind of powers to go beyond that as a human, either Metahuman Abilities, Magic, or Ki Training. I knew from my Metaknowledge that there just weren't any real Magic Users in Metropolis, and while I didn't want to rule Ki Training out, that conclusion felt off as I used the techniques the Monks had taught me to sense the power of this would-be opponent.

That left the third and likeliest option, Metahuman Abilities. Metropolis was lousy with those sorts of folks. Generally, they tended to be failed LexCorp Experiments that Lex pointed in Clark's Direction like some sort of deniable, sentient guided missile strike. The only question was which one this was? I didn't know, but I got the feeling I wouldn't have to wait long to get the answer to that question. Turning Back toward Trixie, who had just finished typing and sending the memo and who was now looking at me questioningly, I realized that while a power level of eight hundred wasn't shit against me, the various people who worked at the bank weren't so sturdy. I would need to deal with this while minimizing collateral damage, which frankly, was not the way I had been taught to fight.

"Whatever happens next, stay in this office." I warned.

"What?" Questioned Trixie.

"I have just clocked someone using a metahuman power entering the building, likely in an attempt to rob the bank. I am going to put a stop to the attempt." I explained.

"And this metahuman is strong?" Queried Trixie.

"Stronger than most people on this planet." I nodded, standing up.

"Oh, that's not good, is it?" Asked Trixie.

"No. No, it is not. I'll handle it, just stay in here. Lock the door if you have to." I insisted.

"Right, will do. Good luck." Offered Trixie.

"Thank you, but I will be fine. He doesn't have anywhere close to the power needed to defeat me." I brushed off.

Then, I stood up and headed for the door. As I left the Office that Trixie had commandeered for us while she was setting up my Hippolyta Act Account, a scream rang out from the atrium as a loud, maniacal laugh rang out, echoing off the marble walls. The sound of shredded leather accompanied the scream and laugh, and I raced for the stairs, bursting out onto the atrium floor at Super Speed. What I found there was interesting.

A man who looked to be made of jagged, sharp pieces of living metal, haphazardly assembled into the vague shape of a person, stood over the shredded, tattered remnants of a leather trenchcoat. I racked my brain for a name and came up with one. Shrapnel, AKA Mark Scheffer, a Metahuman Mercenary whose body was made of sharpened, hard, living metal scales. He was super strong, super durable, and super fast, with the ability to regenerate from deadly wounds over the course of several days alongside the ability to detach parts of his own body, even to the point of blowing up into a whirling cloud of jagged living metal edges.

"Everybody down, this is a robbery!" Cackled Scheffer in mad glee.

That was another thing about Mark Scheffer. The procedure that had turned him into a walking frag grenade had also rendered him psychotic. Scheffer was a sadist who reveled in the pain that he caused. Really, he had more in common with various Batman Villains than the sorts of guys Superman routinely went up against. That was probably why they phased him out after the Early Nineties. He didn't really fit with the Superman Books and was too strong to just head over the Bay to Gotham. It was best that I put a stop to him before he actually hurt someone.

That thought in mind, I charged Shrapnel from the stairwell entrance, launching myself at him bodily while he was in mid-cackle. He turned about quickly, firing his fingertips at me as a hail of flechettes, but the razor-sharp edges of the living metal failed to so much as penetrate my skin. Then my fist slammed into his jagged metallic face and smashed him back out the front door to land hard on the pavement outside. As people ran away from the impending fight, Scheffer exploded into a cloud of whirling metallic bits before reassembling himself on his feet.

"Nice punch, Kid. It'll take more than that to keep Shrapnel down, though!" Barked out Scheffer, laughing.

"I can do better than that." I growled.

Then I launched myself at him once more, and the fight recommenced in earnest. . .

XXXX

Unbeknownst to both Rugulo and Shrapnel, high above the street level, a small camera drone hovered above them both, monitoring the impending battle. That Camera was being controlled by a man in a high-tech armored exoskeleton. One that granted him low-level superhuman strength, speed, and durability, and which mounted a large energy blaster on the left arm. This was Phillip Karnowsky, the High-Tech Mercenary who was also known as Barrage. Barrage, formerly a freelancer, now worked for LexCorp Security and was monitoring the situation via drone for his employer.

The camera feed for the drone, meanwhile, was being sent via subspace communications to a relay station that bounced it around half a dozen different satellites before being beamed back down to Earth to display on a screen in Lex Luthor's Office on the top floor of LexCorp Tower in the New Troy District of Metropolis. This level of secrecy and signal re-routing was, unfortunately, necessary. Lex had long ago learned that the Alien could see the electromagnetic spectrum, rendering most normal forms of remote monitoring pointless. He couldn't take the chance that this New Alien might also have a similar way to tell he was being filmed, so Lex erred on the side of caution there.

"Scheffer didn't seem to leave so much as a scratch on him." Mused Lex's Chief of Security, Alan Powers.

"He wouldn't have left a mark on the Alien either, Alan." Reminded Lex.

"You know he has no hope of winning, don't you?" Questioned Alan.

"He doesn't. He'll still try, though." Intoned Lex.

"Why? For the paycheck? That's not any good to him in jail." Queried Alan.

"No, for psychological reasons. You read the profile, didn't you?" Asked Lex.

"I did. Frankly, I'm surprised anyone would hire Scheffer with that sort of sadistic psychosis." Frowned Alan.

"That's the point, Alan. Many of the Syndicates around here like hiring metahuman muscle for things. It shrinks the available talent pool and makes dealing with the less-than-legitimate side of business in Metropolis so tedious, especially when I have to deal with some bright spark who thought it was the best idea ever to hire a known psychopath to be his bodyguard during important meetings." Informed Lex.

"You knew that Shrapnel wouldn't be able to take care of this problem, didn't you, sir?" Accused Alan.

"I suspected, though there was always that hope. However, even if he can't, there's no reason not to attempt to force this New Alien to use more powers trying to put down Scheffer. At the same time, it gets rid of an unpredictable wildcard in the local Underworld. It's a win-win for me." Explained Lex.

"Also a hell of a show, Sir." Nodded Alan.

"That too." Smirked Lex.

And with that, the pair of men focused their attention back on the screen, watching to see what the New Alien had to pull out of his bag of tricks to deal with Shrapnel, if anything. The Man may be a psychopath, a sadist, and a murderer, but he was damn hard to kill, after all. Lex was eager to gain any information on the New Alien he could. Besides, when Shrapnel failed to kill the New Alien, Lex wouldn't have to pay the rest of his fee.

And that was a fourth bonus in all this. He could learn more about this enemy's capabilities, he could get rid of Scheffer, he could have a fun time watching the footage, and it was all coming effectively for half the price it would if Scheffer won. Lex grinned at that thought.

Truly, sometimes, his genius surprised even himself. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. Rugulo gets a bank account, meets someone who will be important to the DCU's Premier Time Traveler in the future, and gets into a fight with the Metahuman Mercenary known as Shrapnel. At the same time, Lex Luthor is watching, waiting, and gathering info on Rugulo in the shadows. We also get a bit more worldbuilding as regards how I'm integrating Dragonball Stuff into the DCU, with mentions of CapsuleCorp in Japan.

At any rate, the next chapter will be the bulk of the fight between Rugulo and Mark Scheffer, AKA Shrapnel, before we wrap up Rugulo's First Day on DCU Earth.

Stay tuned. . .