Starting With a Cat

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Damon made no attempt to hide the way he looked her over, even after her brows pulled together in obvious irritation.

If she really was who he thought she was - Selina Kyle, better known as Catwoman - then this was obviously the DC universe.

First Marvel, now DC?

That was a classic American-comics crossover setup.

Marvel or DC, what difference did it make? A playground was a playground.

Damon was just about to open his mouth with a wicked smile - no, a perfectly normal smile - when a long, straight leg snapped toward him.

It came fast. In the blink of an eye, her foot was about to get very familiar with his face.

Too bad for her, Damon did not have a foot fetish.

A thought flashed through his mind.

'Infinite Copy!'

The ability activated.

Anything aimed at him by an enemy could be copied in an instant. Damon felt the change immediately. His flexibility improved. His balance sharpened. His reflexes sped up. As her kick swept toward him, he leaned back hard, letting her foot skim over his head, and kicked out on instinct at her supporting leg.

Right between the calf and the knee.

The kick knocked her off balance and sent her falling toward him. Her reaction was fast. She tried to pull back the leg she had thrown out and plant it on the bed to steady herself.

But Damon was faster.

He reached out, caught her ankle, and pinned it down against himself.

One of her feet hit the floor to hold her up. The other was trapped in Damon's grip. Her body sank sharply, forcing her into a full split right over him.

At the same time, there was a sharp rip.

Damon was absolutely certain that whoever designed prison uniforms had never considered the possibility of an inmate doing a full split on top of another inmate. So when the seam at the crotch gave way, both of them froze.

"Don't look at me," Damon said as their eyes met. "You broke it. I'm not paying for it."

The torn pants had already been embarrassing. That comment pushed her straight over the edge.

Pay for it? Had she asked him to pay for anything?

Furious, she swung a fist at him.

With their bodies tangled at that distance, there was no mystery about where that punch was heading. Damon had no intention of spending all his future fun relying on his mouth alone. He tightened his grip and shoved her leg away.

An ordinary person would have gone sprawling from that push. She used the force instead, flipping backward from the spot and landing steadily on her feet. The next second, she rushed him again.

Catwoman was a famous jewel thief for a reason. Balance, flexibility, reflexes, Muay Thai, street fighting - she had more than enough skill to earn the reputation.

Damon watched her charge, the corner of his mouth lifting as he stepped forward to meet her.

Bang.

Their angles, timing, and choice of moves were exactly the same. They slammed into each other head-on with matching attacks.

Catwoman faltered for half a beat, startled by his technique, but surprise did not stop her body.

Punches and kicks came one after another.

In the cramped single cell, the two of them fought so fiercely that every strike seemed to crack against the walls.

Their moves were identical. At first glance, it almost looked rehearsed. Catwoman did not believe it at first. Coincidence, maybe. But the longer they fought, the more frustrated she became.

This was not coincidence.

He was copying everything. Even the little habits worked into her fighting style.

It felt like fighting a male version of herself, and it was infuriating.

"Asshole," Catwoman snapped. "If you're so capable, stop using my moves."

Damon grinned.

Protege's power really was ridiculous. It did not just copy abilities and techniques. It fused the experience into him instantly. No game skill book could be that clean.

Watching her get angrier only confirmed it for him.

She was Catwoman.

"Not convinced?" he asked. "Hit me, then. Not like you can beat me."

Catwoman sneered. "If we're using the same moves, I can't beat you, and you can't beat me."

"Not necessarily." Damon's voice turned deliberately irritating. "I was only playing with the cat. Now..."

'Playing with the cat?'

'Screw you.'

Catwoman did not have time to wonder whether he knew her codename. She had only one thought now.

Claw him to pieces.

She dug her toes into the floor and charged again.

Infinite Copy was already absurd. It made him an instant equalizer, almost like opening with a perfect mirror match. But Damon wanted to know what Infinite Stacking could really do.

Copying was useful, sure. Even if it sounded high-level, it was still not flashy enough on its own. It could let him have some fun, but if he wanted to really run wild, Infinite Stacking was the key.

"Infinite Stacking, one stack!"

It was dramatic enough to be embarrassing, but what was youth without a little cringe? Damon said it anyway.

The sudden shout startled Catwoman.

After the first stack, his reflexes, speed, coordination, flexibility, strength - everything climbed at once. Catwoman's whip kick came at him, and Damon kept both feet planted. His waist folded inward, twisting at an angle so extreme even she could not have pulled it off, and the kick missed.

Catwoman froze for a split second.

Then came another whip kick. A side kick. A spinning heel kick. One leg technique after another, all chained together with footwork, jabs, crosses, hooks, and elbows.

The attack came down like a storm.

Damon slipped through all of it with ease.

'Slow.'

'Too slow.'

Before the stack, he had needed to block and counter. Now he could dodge with room to spare.

"Infinite Stacking, two stacks!"

Just as Catwoman's leg started to whip out, Damon had already predicted the strike and moved. He stepped in, drove his shoulder into hers, and released a sharp burst of force.

Catwoman staggered back several steps and hit the wall.

A muffled groan slipped out of her. The shoulder he had struck sagged slightly.

'So much force.'

Half her shoulder had gone numb. The slightest attempt to move it sent cold sweat down her back.

The most infuriating part was that she knew that move too.

She just could not use it that fast. She could not put that much force behind it. That shoulder check relied on a kind of penetrating impact she had not mastered yet.

"Who are you?" Catwoman asked, clutching her shoulder as she watched him warily.

Damon looked at her and grinned.

"Let's just say I'm not your litter-box servant."

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