DC: A Cop in Gotham

Chapter 38: But not all Dragons are the Last Boss

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Vulko was the royal guard of Atlantis. He had been sent by the former queen, Arthur's mother, to teach Arthur how to use his powers correctly. Vulko trained Arthur well, shaping him into a capable and qualified king.

But not long ago, Arthur gave up his identity as Aquaman. Vulko, the former king's confidant, was left in a difficult and humiliating position. Soon after, Orm exiled him. The abrupt change in his role and status made Vulko feel deeply uneasy. Determined to restore the balance he once knew, he decided to bring Arthur back to Atlantis' throne.

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Slaying two Trench warriors with a single stroke of his blade, Dean steadily advanced toward Vulko.

"Is this all you have? Using these mindless creatures? What a waste of time."

Just yesterday, Dean and Damian had fought desperately against a double-digit number of Trench warriors. But today, against the relentless tide of Trench creatures, Dean seemed almost casual. His blade cut through their ranks with ease, each step leaving another corpse behind. It was all thanks to Batman's careful intelligence work.

The Trench creatures were grotesque, fish-like humanoids adapted to the deepest parts of the ocean. Their translucent skin revealed their brains, which pulsed visibly beneath. Their oversized eyes, though mostly useless, had not fully degenerated and remained vulnerable. In addition, there was a particularly soft spot on the back of their heads, making them another target for precise strikes.

With this information, Dean was able to kill them efficiently. Only a few managed to get close to him, but the sniper rifle slung over his shoulder wasn't for decoration. It proved just as deadly as his blade. Having learned from the struggles of the past few days, Dean had prepared carefully. He now carried two large crates of bullets, ensuring he wouldn't run out again.

While reloading, Dean drove his knife through the eye socket of a nearby Trench warrior, reducing its brain to pulp. Throughout it all, his gaze never left Vulko.

Dean had been searching for the perfect opportunity to take a shot at Vulko. But as a former royal guard, Vulko's skill and awareness were impeccable. Even in his older age, Vulko remained untouchable when fully alert.

"Am I really going to have to resort to a 'sneak attack'…?" Dean muttered under his breath. He emptied magazine after magazine, but finally, the last of the Trench warriors lay defeated, their bodies strewn across the battlefield.

"Dean, you've grown so much. You're nothing like the naive boy I once knew," Vulko said, his tone both acknowledging and wary of the formidable opponent Dean had become.

Vulko, however, had no intention of retreating. He was here to settle things with Dean once and for all.

"Are you trying to cut down the root of the problem?" Dean asked as he swapped the bullets in his sniper rifle. At the same time, he twirled his sword in a practiced, almost casual dance.

"But now that I think about it, Vulko, you're the first supervillain I've faced since becoming a hero. By that logic, you're my 'great enemy.'"

Switching fluidly between his blade and his sniper rifle, Dean completed his sword dance, his strength increasing fourfold in the process.

"I stepped into this Pokémon invasion mess because of you, and I'll make sure it ends with you. It's the perfect conclusion."

Vulko, wary of Dean's every move, particularly his sharp-shooting, sneered coldly as he raised his golden scepter. Behind him, two massive waterspouts rose from the ocean.

"End with me? You're overestimating yourself, Dean! If it hadn't been for your cowardly sneak attack last time, I'd have killed you in three seconds flat!"

The memory of Dean's previous attack made Vulko grimace in pain. His expression darkened, and the faintest twitch in his posture betrayed his discomfort.

"But I won't make the same mistake this time. I'll make sure you live long enough to be torn apart by the hungry squids," Vulko growled, his voice seething with vengeful malice.

[Samurai Soul] has been activated.

"Talking about other people's private parts so openly… That just proves how low-quality you are, you bald Mediterranean bastard."

Dean rested Hoshikudaki on his shoulder and fired a shot at Vulko.

"Unlike you, I don't sit around whining about my situation and hoping someone else will change things for me. So what if Arthur isn't Aquaman? Does that erase the fact that you were his teacher? You were exiled because you refused to acknowledge Orm as the rightful king of Atlantis!

There's an old saying: 'A wise man adapts to circumstances.' If you could understand that, none of this mess would have happened in the first place.

Do you have any idea how exhausting it is for me to be running around in two different directions? I haven't had a decent night's sleep in two days! I don't want to end up like Gintoki—gray-haired from stress before I even hit my prime.

Oh, wait, my bad. You don't even have hair to begin with."

Dean stabbed Vulko twice more in the chest, his expression growing dull and detached, his eyes resembling lifeless fish eyes. Suddenly, he sheathed his rifle.

"I've wasted enough time on detours. Let's end this."

Vulko, having long since tuned out Dean's rambling, simply ignored him. With a wave of his scepter, two massive water dragons surged forward, aiming to tear Dean apart.

But Dean remained unfazed. Raising Hoshikudaki, he locked eyes with his blade and spoke in a low voice.

"Swastika—Scatter, Hoshikudaki."

The blade disintegrated into a flurry of cherry blossom petals, cascading down from the sky, blanketing the battlefield.

Vulko, unfamiliar with this phenomenon, instinctively conjured a water shield. But it was useless. The cherry blossoms ignored the swirling currents and descended upon him effortlessly.

A thin trail of blood appeared where they touched.

"What is this?!" Vulko's eyes widened in shock.

Dean's voice was eerily serious. "A copied ultimate move, of course. No need to apologize to the original creator here."

And then, without hesitation—

"All petals, strike."

At that command, every single cherry blossom blade turned toward Vulko and surged forward.

Faint crimson lines appeared across his smooth forehead as the attack passed through him. The water sphere imprisoning Manaphy shattered instantly—a clear sign that Vulko, the one maintaining the spell, had lost consciousness.

But even as his body wavered, his grip on the scepter remained firm.

"Finally…"

Dean's vision blurred, and his body swayed before he collapsed to the ground. His head throbbed as if a thousand needles were piercing his skull.

"Last time, my special move drained my physical strength. This time, it's my mental energy…? Spiritual energy? Whatever. I'm too tired to think about it right now."

Hoshikudaki's power had always been a double-edged sword—one that inflicted a heavy toll even upon its wielder. Dean had pushed himself to his limit, cutting through the Trench creatures, firing off rounds to check for hidden reinforcements, and only then resorting to his ultimate technique.

But something suddenly clicked in his mind.

"Wait… Did I just forget to ask Vulko about the Spirit of Existence?!"

Dean shot up in realization, his exhaustion momentarily overridden by sheer frustration.

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Manaphy's small body plummeted toward the ocean, unopposed this time. Like Groudon before it, it became a vessel for its element's natural energy, absorbing the full essence of the sea.

**Chapter 38: But Not All Dragons Are the Last Boss**

**Part 3:**

The moment Manaphy made contact with the seawater, the magma on Groudon—who was still bound by the Lasso of Truth—suddenly dimmed.

Then, in the next instant, it reignited.

Doctor Fate had finally arrived, summoned by Zatanna. The glow in his eyes wasn't human—it was the pure, unfiltered gaze of a Lord of Order.

"…One step too late," Fate murmured, his voice carrying an unnatural weight. "This Spirit of Existence has fused with the primordial forces of the universe… and in doing so, it has birthed two new fundamental powers."

Zatanna frowned. "Wait—what do you mean by 'Spirit of Existence'?"

Doctor Fate's glowing gaze shifted toward her. His voice was steady, devoid of Kent Nelson's usual warmth. "I am Nabu now, not your father."

His answer carried no emotion.

"The Spirit of Existence is a being that embodies a fundamental force of reality—much like the Emotional Spectrum entities that manifest as living embodiments of emotions. They, too, are a form of Spirit of Existence."

A hush fell over the battlefield.

"There are six known primordial forces," Doctor Fate continued. "The Red of all living creatures. The Green of all plant life. The Black of decay. The Fungus of division. The Metal of all things forged. And the Ash of all that withers. Each of these fundamental powers has its own counterpart, a balancing force that maintains equilibrium."

His gaze darkened.

"But normally… it is impossible for a power of this magnitude to be born from a Spirit of Existence. They are anomalies. Exceptions."

A cold wind swept through the battlefield.

Doctor Fate turned his godly sight toward Groudon, observing it through the eyes of a being beyond time.

"And yet… two new fundamental forces have emerged."

Everyone present—including Dean, who was limping toward the scene—heard the next words spoken.

A voice, deep and resonant, echoed from within Groudon.

"They are the Fury of the Earth… and the Blue of the Sea."

The ominous, blood-red clouds overhead thickened, swallowing the sun.

For a brief moment, the world was painted in shades of crimson.

Doctor Fate's glowing eyes flickered erratically—shaken, for once, by what he had realized.

"…Impossible…" he whispered. "How could it be you?"

Dean narrowed his eyes, scanning the battlefield.

In the distance, above Groudon's enormous frame, a red figure slowly emerged.

The silhouette was unmistakable.

A towering form cloaked in an aura of dread.

A voice—calm, composed, and terrifying in its familiarity—broke the silence.

"Long time no see… members of the Justice League."

Dean's breath hitched. His mind raced, piecing together the fragmented clues—the unusually active Arkham prisoner, the whispers Poison Ivy had heard, the red figure haunting the shadows, the demonized Ra's al Ghul, the scientists who had vanished without a trace from the laboratory where Groudon was studied…

It all clicked.

A curse escaped Dean's lips.

"FUCK"

His eyes flickered with realization.

"The green liquid… It was Lazarus Pit water!"

And now, it wasn't just Gotham that had been reborn.

The Earth itself had changed.

Because standing there—emerging from the shadows of the battlefield—was none other than Trigon.

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Chapter 37 and 38 are for yesterday, I'll upload 39 and 40 that is for today, later.

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