The Visionary, almost back to full consciousness, was at a meeting with Black Mask, flanked by four of his Watchkeepers, in The Golden Falcon in Old Gotham. Black Mask, similarly, had several of his goons surrounding the entire table. The Mk2 Eye-Bots were, of course, poised to strike if necessary, but they were only discreetly placed in prime locations. If Black Mask knew they were there, it would show a lack of faith or perhaps a possibility that The Visionary would try to pull a double cross. It was true, however- The Visionary absolutely despised Black Mask, as much as he despised all others who acted outside his interpretation of the law, and once Phase 3 was put into place Black Mask, Falcone, Great White, Tobias Whale and all the other criminal heads of Gotham would be wiped out alongside the so-called heroes; but Black Mask was the metaphorical monetary dam- any up-and-coming underworld entrepreneurs either got their funding from Black Mask, or didn't get funding at all, or if they did have the funds to start their operation without him, they would be found days later decorating the underside of the docks in a new pair of cement shoes. Courtesy of Black Mask, of course. However, because The Visionary once upon a time was Black Mask's best informant on the inside of the Gotham PD, Black Mask was more than happy to make these exchanges. That didn't mean he sometimes didn't get angry at The Visionary.
After a long pause, Black Mask steepled his hands together and leaned over, dead eyes boring into O'Cule from behind the black, wooden mask. "All right. Here's the deal. I'll give you $50,000 now-"
"Just $50,000?!"
"Yeah. Just $50,000. You got a problem with that?"
"Yes- I mean my boys and I went through all that trouble. There's over $500K in that stash and you know it."
"Well, I would have offered you more up front, but you kind of went and blew up the museum this stuff was stashed in. These goods ain't just hot, they're scorching. It's dangerous enough just keeping this on me. When it's safe enough to fence on the black market, I'll give you the rest of your half cut, but until then-"
"I need this money, Mask. I have to pay off my debts." Black Mask's goons began pulling out their guns and The Visionary's Watchkeepers began secretly directing the Mk2 Eyes to ready themselves for a firefight. But after a tense half-second, Black Mask put up a single hand, stopping everything.
"Well, if you didn't find the need to buy out the world's stockpile of laser weaponry, and try to get them from that Bishop, maybe you wouldn't be in this little financial hole you dug yourself. Like I said. $50K for this job up front. No more. No less."
A short pause. The Visionary's one good bionic eye stared right back into Black Mask's two cold eyes. "What about another job?"
"Another job?"
"Yes. I know there was a problem- down at the wharf. Your little arms trade?"
"Arms trade? Don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't give me that, Mask. Those were your guns, your thugs, your botched trade."
"Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. You seem to know a lot about this, Mikey."
O'Cule taps his good bionic eye. "Comes with the territory. There was a girl there. She was the one who nearly ruined your little deal."
"And you think you can take care of it?"
"Yeah. I was going to get around to it anyways, of course, but if you help me out here, I'll bring it farther up on my list, Mask."
"...you drive a hard bargain, Visionary. Just make sure you don't mess it up."
"Of course."
With that, the meeting was adjourned. The Visionary's problems were adding up, but he was getting closer. The bone-powered Meta and the freakish kid who seemed to be immune to pain, the financial hole, the ransacked lair, and now he had to take care of this vigilante girl that sent a gaggle of goons running for the hills. And she seemed so familiar as well. But- he was making progress. Good progress. All he needed was a little more money. Just a little more. And Phase 2 could finally begin.