DC/JoJo | Gacha Over Heaven

**Third Person P.O.V**

The air was cold—bone-deep cold—not the crisp, invigorating kind, but the sort that clung to your clothes, seeped through gloves, and lingered in your lungs like smoke. The sky was completely overcast, covered in thick, gray clouds that looked ready to burst rain at any moment.

They hung low and heavy, moving slowly across the horizon. The sunlight couldn't break through, leaving everything beneath in a dull, colorless light. 

A light mist drifted through the air, everything looked a little blurred. There was no wind. No birds. Just quiet, heavy stillness

In Gotham, in the early days of winter, this kind of weather was nothing unusual. Especially for those who had lived here all their lives.

Such a man was undoubtedly Thomas Angelo. Born and raised in the dirtiest corners of this damn cursed city. He risked meeting death early every day, simply by stumbling into a gang shootout.

Previously just a regular mobster in the gang, he mainly served as a driver. During robberies, gang disputes, and whenever the boss and his important people needed a ride, he was the one behind the wheel.

He spent 15 years of his life behind bars in Blackgate Penitentiary for his crimes, after a robbery went not as planned and the entire group was arrested by the GPD. Throughout the interrogation, he remained silent, refusing to say a word, therefore, the judge sentenced him to the maximum term.

And it seemed his fate was all but sealed. He would either return to the gang life after jail or be silenced permanently to keep him from talking too much. Loose ends and such.

But one day, a call came through on his phone. It was a young man — as Thomas later learned — the son of one of the most influential people in Gotham, if not the most influential. His name was Michael Valentine, and it turned out he called him with an offer, as they say, one that couldn't be refused.

He put him to work as his driver and, in a way, his butler. Along with a generous paycheck, he was also provided with a neaty room in the big mansion on the outskirts of city.

From that day, none of the "colleagues" from his former "work" ever showed themselves before him again. 

I don't know if it was because of what he did or the influence of his now deceased father, but all kinds of scum made sure to steer clear of anything related to Valentine. 

**Not like it's any of my business.**- At 45, Angelo thought about things simply. He had a safe place to stay, a job better than most, and, as far as he knew, his boss wasn't a jerk. That was all he really cared about. 

**Speaking of the boss**- Thomas, sitting in the driver's seat with his hands warming by the heater, glanced in the rearview mirror and watched as rather tall figure approached the car.

Sharp, angular face features, strong jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing, dark, almost red eyes. His thick, wavy golden-blond hair frames his face, not too short, not too long. 

He had fairly broad shoulders and a chest that smoothly narrowed into a kind of slim waist which then transitioned into slightly wider hips. Even through his clothes, people could see his body physique is clearly muscular and strong. An ideal balance of beauty and masculinity.

**(example pics here)**

He wore a dark suit with a tie, trousers, and boots — all in mourning shades, save for a crisp, pale white shirt.

Michael walked slowly, his gaze distant and thoughtful as he approached the car. When he finally reached it, he opened limousine's back seat door, and quietly sat inside.

"Hope you weren't freezing here, Tommy. I definitely kept you waiting."- He spoke in a smooth, slightly bassy voice, looking straight into the driver's eyes through the front mirror.

Old Thomas didn't know why, but for some reason, he couldn't hold this young man's gaze for long. After a few seconds, he looked away and focused his sight on the wheel- "No, not at all, Boss. It's my job after all, and besides, it wasn't cold here—the heater was running the whole time in the car."

Smirking to himself, Valentine leaned back against the seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"I see. Well then, start the car, my dear driver. We have quite a long road ahead"

Angelo didn't need to be told twice. He fired up the engine immediately and smoothly pulled out of the parking spot onto the main road.

"Where to, boss?" 

"Home"

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Michael P.O.V

As we drove along Gotham's gloomy roads toward the outskirts, I sat silently, staring at the display screen, lazily scrolling through countless tasks in the [Quests] tab. Next to me sat my quiet companion-Stand, mirroring my posture with one leg crossed over the other.

Thomas sat in the driver's seat ahead of me, his eyes focused on the road ahead as he steered the wheel.

To him, it was just the two of us in the car — yet every now and then, I noticed him stealing a quick glance at the seat beside me, his expression thoughtful. Could it be that he didn't see WOU, but subconsciously sensed his presence? Interesting.

This man was my... let's call it a bet, a gamble of sorts. A few months ago, before my system awakened, I was actively searching for people I could recruit to serve me — by bribing them with money, sweet talk, or anything else, really.

Back then, I felt lonely, as strange as it may sound coming from someone who killed his own father. 

But the term "friend" had always seemed, how should I put it, distant for me. A friend is someone you consider your equal, someone you trust with everything.

For some reason, my whole being just couldn't accept it. I couldn't imagine anyone being my equal, let alone someone I could fully trust.

I can admit without shame that people to me were something like tools, toys even—cute, amusing pets that can brighten my day with their presence. Can a pet ever be equal to its owner?

Of course not.

Thomas Angelo was such a pet. I chose him for simple reasons: loyalty, the fact that he knew his place, and his skills.

All it took to "tame him" was to guarantee his safety from his former associates. He agreed immediately, without even hearing the terms of employment, salary, or other details.

Just like a little dog, eager to lick the boots of anyone who gives him scraps of food

And the way he always got little nervous in my presence, unable to hold my gaze—that was a rather amusing bonus.

But let's get back on track. Right now, I'm looking for the most optimal mission for me—one that offers a lot of points, be relatively easy to complete, and provide a solid foundation for my future plans.

And it seems I've found something

[Mid-high difficulty quest: King of the Underworld]

Description:

Let's be honest—who would you be if not a criminal? A hero? Good joke. The streets of Gotham are torn apart by gang wars, bringing endless chaos and disorder to the city.In the criminal world, there has never been stability, and your mission is to achieve it.

Completion Condition:

Unite gangs, mafia families, and other criminal organizations under your control and become the ruler of Gotham's underworld.

Time Limit: None

Reward:1,000,000 Gacha Points

Bonus Reward: 500,000 Gacha Points if you complete the quest without revealing your identity. 

[Accept?]

[Yes] ____ [No]

Without hesitation, I pressed the YES button.

Well then, I guess it's time for some action isn't it?

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To be continued

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