Silhouette

"Again, I will not elaborate on my place of birth."

"But-"

"If you insist any further I will have you removed from the conference."

The reporter who had been trying to get James to tell everything about his origins closed her mouth. It had been a little over fifteen minutes now since he officially began the second part of the conference for his opening day. No longer were they standing around in the street, instead the entire group was now in the inner court of the Penumbral Palace. Well, those that had stayed were. Larry and Barry had returned to the shop to manage the influx of people who were here solely to buy his products and had stuck through his initial speech only because it would mark the opening of the store.

While half of the crowd was gone, what remained was still impressive. Not to mention, those were the ones truly curious about Silhouette and his activities. Despite the loss in quantity, the group as a whole was just as focused on him as before, perhaps even more so since now they were free to ask questions. While the first few ones had been polite nothing to start off the event peacefully, this particular journalist had quickly annoyed him.

"Alright, next. You, the one with the green knitted cap."

"Phil Flashpoint, here for Channel 7. What brought you to start a self-defense emporium?"

"While it might sound a little cliché, to help others. I am well aware I am lucky when it comes to my biology, but this is the exact reason why I wanted to make Shades Of Penumbra. Not everyone is lucky enough to be Cored, to be confident they could fend off the average attacker. After all, civilians are much more at risk of being stabbed by a drug addict than being disintegrated by a Villain, and sadly the police despite their best efforts are often unable to act in time in such emergencies. They simply lack the resources the Hero Union has access to, which is perfectly understandable. Budgets are finite things, and taking care of maniacs with nukes rightfully takes priority over petty thieves or pet poisoners."

James paused.

"Truth be told, although I wish to keep my private life separate from my business, I will admit I know well the threat a simple man with a knife can pose. How a perfectly mundane person with a mere kitchen utensil can permanently alter or destroy a life. These are the people I wish to help you defend against."

"So your products are aimed at Non-Cored customers?"

"Yes, they are the immediate market, but that isn't to say that Cored folks are unwelcomed. Not everyone has the safety of stone skin or a natural electromagnetic barrier. Those whose powers are unfit to help them defend themselves or even those who do and simply wish for another layer of security are free to use our products as well. Next, you with the red mohawk."

"Aren't you afraid your products may be used by the very same people you wish to protect against?"

"That was one of my worries, yes. That is why we heavily monitor the potential harm these items may cause. Anything found too dangerous isn't released or is altered to fit the criteria we set ourselves as well as the limits offered by the permits granted us. As it is, the only items we sell that are liable to cause harm are our electroguns, whose output has been carefully tuned to only stun with lower chances of cardiovascular arrest than tasers, and our batons which, despite their increased durability, are no more dangerous than those already available on the market. Metal pipes would make for better lethal weapons."

"What of your reinforced clothing and shields?"

"They are means of defense. Yes, I won't deny that some ruffians will likely get their hands on them as well in hopes of overwhelming the police. I trust our brave officers are equipped well enough to overcome lawful items, and if not that they will accept my offer to upgrade their gear. Not with our publicly available items but those that proved too effective to be made legally available to the masses."

A humanoid hammerhead shark yelled at that, blatantly ignoring the rules that had been set earlier on journalists only being allowed to speak one at a time.

"Is that related to the pillar of darkness that appeared some time ago?"

Hushed whispers quickly spread.

"I don't think I authorized you to speak."

Black smoke emerged from the shark's shadow, slowly spinning around him like tendrils up to his chest, leaving openings in their rotation to show he was unharmed beneath.

"But, since I know this will be a subject many of you are curious about, I will answer the question. Yes, I was, in a way, responsible for this event. I wish to formally apologize for the trouble it may have caused, but allow me to explain the circumstances."

The reporters weren't the only ones who gave Silhouette their attention. The police officers and various spies in the crowd too were fully focused on him.

"It is no secret we have some facilities in the slums. I used these holdings to look for possible talents, as well as possibly establish trading relationships with those I deem suitable. There, my lawful activities caught the attention of a member of Wicked Witchcraft. After multiple skirmishes between his thugs and my hired help, it all culminated in an attack on one of my holdings. Due to the dire circumstances, experimental weapons had to be fired, and one of them wound up causing this pillar of darkness. Rest assured, this particular device was deemed too dangerous for use."

The shark began to open his mouth but the gaseous darkness enveloping him quickly muffled him.

"To those of you who may be worried about this man attacking this establishment and endangering our customers, worry not. This particular mage lost all of his resources in the climax of our conflict and fled the city. While some members of the cabal have expressed a desire to attack me, I was informed by a high-ranking member that the troublemaker I was faced was a recluse, and as such the group as a whole didn't care overly much. The fact Abrakaboom passed by to hear my version of the story and I still live is proof enough that this mess is over."

James paused again.

"As for the mage's hired thugs, I took it upon myself to help reinsert them in society. They continue their former operations with an improved wage under the close surveillance of my more trusted employees, to ensure they will never again cause problems to Zalcien or its inhabitants, regardless of the place they call home. To elaborate, we will occasionally stock runic items along with our usual merchandise. Due to the difficulties associated with mass-producing magical goods, this stock won't be constant, so remember to drop by at the beginning of each month. To better represent our normally available products, no runic items will be for sale today nor until next month."

The tendrils pulled up the shark to show him to all present before gently carrying him over the store's roof, depositing him back on the street.

"Before I pick the next question, remember to only speak when allowed to."

One might have expected the crowd of journalists to calm down after seeing one of their colleagues treated like this, but quite the opposite happened. Since they couldn't leech onto others' questions, they needed to be the ones to be picked. Cries and shouts echoed until shadows pulsed, reminding the noisy lot to behave. Finally, a blonde woman with a lone metallic antenna poking out of the top of her curly hair got her turn.

"Clarisse Clark. Mister Silhouette, I noticed you employed Ivan Decanov despite his infamous streak. Could you elaborate on this decision?"

"Doctor Decanov is a hardworking man with an impressive intellect and ruthless efficiency. I am aware of past incidents involving him, but so far I have nothing to complain about. That's why I offered him a long-term contract, one he has accepted. Perhaps all along the best way to handle a scientist of his caliber was to pay him properly and give him credit for his developments?"

He chuckled.

"Perhaps the man himself would like to pitch in as well?"

She turned her gaze to the Draskian robot standing to the side, and one of the mics that had so far been embedded in the lectern broke off, carried by a tentacle that became a stand right next to the mechanical man.

"Doctor, would you like to add anything to your employer's statement?"

He scoffed.

"Silhouette pays well, respects my decisions, offers a generous work schedule, is willing to research more than the next generation of toasters, and doesn't try to steal my projects and credit himself for their success. Do I need to say more?"

Chatters increased among the reporters. Ivan Decanov had never been so supportive of one of his employers. He had gone through an entire sentence without complaining about Silhouette!

"Alright. Next... What is that horrid shirt?"

The woman he pointed out of the crowd looked down at her pink see-through shirt with polka dots of fur and scales before shrugging, the simple grey vest she had been wearing previously still in hand.

"Got your attention, didn't it? Wilma Magneti. Usually, folks specialize in either technology or magic, and those who dabble in both combine them. Should we expect magitech from Shades Of Penumbra soon, or is there another reason for this diversity?"

"Ah. Truth be told, I am no miracle worker. Without the fantastical work of my employees, the Penumbral Palace would have never come to be. The reason why we propose both magical and technological items is because circumstances gave me the means to do both. Had it not been for my conflict with that loose element from Wicked Witchcraft and the subsequent hostile takeover of his remaining holdings, these runic items wouldn't be sold here. Similarly, without the hard work of our inventor, neither would our main contraptions. We lean towards technology as of now because that is the field our current experts prefer, I am more than open to the idea of diversifying further so long as someone trustworthy and experienced with magic or biology or any other domain joins the team."

"Is that a job offer?"

Silhouette paused and slightly raised his head, openly considering the question.

"Well, I would be loathe to deny a soul with potential the possibility of showing the world what they're capable of. However, I do suffer from a tragic trust issue. I met my first employees by chance, but circumstances forged a strong bond between us. I sought Decanov because I knew a man like him would rise to the challenge, and he further earned my trust and respect through the time we spent together during his initial short-term contract."

Blake Black, discreetly sitting at the side on a luminal construct formed by Nanyet, let a smug smile form on his lips.

"I have found my business built through the efforts of the unloved. Those denied a chance. The nobodies and the paria. I know them well for I am myself part of the group. This isn't quite the face of the neighborhood Hero, after all. I won't deny part of what makes them so reliable is their loyalty to those who give them this chance they never had, but that isn't all they have for them. Decanov is a genius only held back by his infamy and admittedly prickly attitude."

The robot scoffed but didn't interrupt.

"My inventor was born in the slums. Despite the poor conditions, his potential still bloomed by building gadgets out of scraps that let him not only live but grow strong enough to defend others until he met something that no child should face. He didn't take the failure as a sign to give up, but an encouragement to aim and soar even higher."

Tendrils formed and pointed back to the store.

"The Penumbral Palace's managers were born and raised in the slums as well. Forced to haggle their way through life, to bend the knee before those stronger than them. Look at them now, kind to their workers, even those who once bullied them. They now stand side by side with figures like Blake Black. And most importantly of all, when Supers came and threatened to undo all we had built together, they stood strong and fought back. Given the chance and the means to act, they saved lives and proved they were great men."

The tendrils retracted back into the podium.

"Those are the people I wish to hire. The downtrodden, the meek, the helpless. Those who have been held back all their life. They are the ones I seek because I know when they are rendered free, when nothing stops them from completing their dreams, they will be so much greater than any other."

He paused.

"If this isn't enough to convince you, we also offer generous salaries, a flexible schedule, lodging, and guaranteed weekly pastries."

Now James just had to hope someone somewhere would be inspired by all that and show up to his doorstep for a job and that they would actually turn out to be anywhere near the level of Techlord or Decanov. His pretty words were meant to inspire, but he knew not everyone would wind up becoming the next Shadow Commando when given the chance. The group who used to man the warehouse never showed the same sort of potential.

He wasn't delusionally thinking the rough was made of diamond, just looking for gems beneath the toxic sludge none dared to approach.

"Next, the man with the butterfly glasses."

"Moth glasses actually, but thank you. Philibert Fink, I wanted to note the overwhelming number of male employees under you. Is there a reason behind this?"

"Well, as I've just said, so far most of my recruits were chance encounters. Just like I'm not opposed to diversity in my products, the same goes for my workforce. I will hire anyone so long as they behave appropriately, regardless of gender, sexuality, species, origin, or state of existence."

"State of existence?"

"Undead and the like. If they are still sane and sapient, they are as welcome as any living creature."

"Ah, thank you for the clarification."

"No problem."

James paused again, this time not out of a sense of theatrics but because of something very different. He had been expecting one of his enemies to make some kind of move today, and nothing had happened so far. The keyword here was "so far".

One of his latest body doubles was pulling at their connection, asking for his attention. The one stationed in the building that had once been Mother Greenheld's orphanage.

In all likelihood, someone was attacking the Shadow Den.