"Why is he bringing those guns into Gotham!?" I demanded, lifting the thug off the ground with one hand.
"I-I don't kn-know; I'm just here to guard the warehouse," the thug stuttered in fear, struggling to break free from my grip.
I slammed him against the crate that was next to us and twisted his wrist tightly.
"AHHH! Please, let go! You're going to break my arm!" He yelled in agony, attempting to get up, but I pressed my boot firmly against his neck.
"WHY IS HE SMUGGLING THOSE GUNS!?" I repeated, tightening my grip on his wrist with each word until it felt like it might snap.
"I don't know, man, I swear, I really don't know. I'm just a low-life at the bottom; they don't tell me anything." He pleaded with tears.
He is surprisingly self-aware.
"If you're lying, I'll break the other one."
"The other one—ARGHHHHH!"
I shattered his wrist and then drove my knee into his head, knocking him out cold.
I was in one of the warehouses at Gotham Harbor, surrounded by the aftermath of my work. Fourteen other bodies lay around me—none dead, but all crippled for life.
I was investigating the guns that Penguin was smuggling into Gotham via ships, hidden among containers of airsoft guns. That clever fat slob hid real guns among the airsoft guns.
From the containers, I found 35 rifles and 75 handguns—an unusually large shipment for Penguin. Usually, he brings a handful and waits for a few weeks before smuggling more.
Either he decided to abandon his 'businessman' image and go full crime lord, which he had been avoiding due to his family's history—since the Coppolottos are one of Gotham's oldest families—or he has a client with enough money or power for him to take the risk of me going after him actively.
So far, I haven't found any clues from those containers that link back to Penguin. He had used a third party to place the order for the airsoft guns, so officially, he's not involved in any of this, and none of his men had any knowledge of the containers.
Usually, I don't waste time interrogating lowlife thugs, but going after Penguin without solid evidence could jeopardize my still-in-progress coexistence with GCPD.
I sent a signal to the GCPD as I left the warehouse and headed towards the Iceberg Lounge.
***
Sneaking into the Penguin office, I take a quick look around.
It was empty since Penguin was in the casino entertaining guests as an owner.
It was the kind of office you would expect from a wannabe godfather.
A dark environment, a leather chair, cigars, and expensive alcohol on the desk; behind the desk, a bookshelf and expensive paintings on the wall. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought I was inside Vito Corleone's study.
Activating my detective vision, I began to investigate.
The walls were lined with various paintings, most of which were for showoff, except for a huge portrait of him directly across from his desk, behind which was a safe.
Grabbing the painting, I took it off the wall and put it down.
I put my finger on the lock and began to hack it, which was instant, and it opened.
Money, gold, jewelry, a gun, and some documents; there wasn't anything noteworthy inside the safe except a yearbook.
The yearbook was filled with newspaper clippings of suspicious murders, a collection that the Penguin made for his own pleasure after killing all of his bullies.
I closed the safe and put the painting back on the wall.
On the desk, there was a half-smoked puro, a glass of whiskey, and an open bottle.
There wasn't much else to look at in the room except the footprints, with the freshest ones leading to the bookshelf.
And what a classic it was—so classic it nearly made me puke.
Most of the books appeared untouched, gathering dust, except for three on the left, middle, and right sides of the shelf. Each of those books had their headbands slightly worn out from constant pulling, and beneath them lay a pressure button linked to a hidden mechanism within the wall.
Just as I was about to pull the books to trigger the mechanism, I heard footsteps approaching the office, and soon enough, the door clicked open.
Penguin strolled in, an umbrella in one hand and a puro clenched between his teeth, followed closely by Big Dude, over two meters tall with huge muscles that put bodybuilders to shame.
"Has that Willis guy given his testimony yet?" Penguin asked as he settled into his chair and took a sip of whisky.
Willis Todd, one of his henchmen, was the man he had paid to take the murder blame for him, and he also happened to be Jason Todd's father.
"He has, boss, but Officer Jeremy requested Commissioner Gordon to hold off on it since he's got a fresh lead," the man replied, pulling out a lighter from his pocket to ignite Penguin's puro.
"Hmmm." Penguin inhaled deeply from his puro, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk.
"Boss, should we take Jeremy for a little swim at the harbor?" The man suggested, but Penguin merely shook his head and retrieved a photograph from his desk drawer.
The photo showed a man and woman standing behind a little girl blowing out birthday candles, both the man and the woman smiling with joy while looking at the little girl.
"First and foremost, I'm a businessman," Penguin said, handing the photo to his henchman. "This photo is in exchange for his lead."
"Understood, boss." The man took the photo and left.
I walked towards the door and locked it. The lights flickered as I switched back into my batsuit.
"Whoa!" Penguin yelped, startled, falling back in his chair.
"Goddammit, you bloody freak! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" He sat up, clutching his chest, gasping for breath.
"The client, Cobblepot." I stood before his desk, my huge shadow engulfing his small, round figure.
"You have to be more specific than that idiot. I'm a successful club owner; I have many clients." Unfazed, he stood up, brushed himself off, adjusted his clothes, and pulled out another puro from his stash before sitting back down.
"And what authority do you have to interrogate a law-abiding citizen like me?" He continued to mock me, a smug grin on his face as he puffed smoke from his puro in my direction and leisurely sipped his whiskey.
Grabbing him by the collar, I lifted him up and slammed him onto the table, breaking both his back and the desk.
"SPEAK, OR I WILL BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY!"
"ARGHHH!" he cried out in agony, clutching his back and wriggling like a fish out of water.
Man, I don't understand what they feed Gotham's villains. If I had done this to anyone else, they would have been paralyzed and passed out from the pain by now, yet here he is, still squirming.
BANG
"BOSS"
The commotion inside finally alerted the guards outside as they attempted to break in.
"I'm gonna fucking kill ya, freak! You hear me!? You're dead!"
If he still has the energy to threaten me, it means I clearly wasn't hitting him hard enough.
"THE CLIENT!" I pressed my boot down on his chest, applying pressure until I heard a faint crack.
"THE CLOWN! IT'S THE CLOWN!" he shouted, desperately trying to shove my foot off him.
To my disappointment, not being able to handle the pain anymore, he gave in.
The Joker... but he should be locked up in Blackgate, awaiting transport to Arkham.
"Transaction, when and where?"
"Today, at midnight, in the slums, inside the abandoned movie theater," Penguin quickly replied, still struggling to escape despite the injuries he got that would have killed an ordinary man.
"Do not play with me, Coppelpot. I know everything—your brothers, Tony, the yearbook, even the names of every single damn bird you've killed with your own hands."
I grabbed him by the collar again, lifted him up, and pulled my fist back as Penguin shielded his face, bracing for the inevitable.
"This isn't over; once I'm done with the clown, you're next."
With a clean punch to his face, I knocked Penguin out.
'Eden, check Joker's cell.'
{It's empty, sir, and data show that his transfer to Arkham has already been completed.}
Then Eden sent me the data.
According to the data, the transport van carrying the Joker left Blackgate two days ago for Arkham. However, at Arkham Bridge, the van veered into the woods and returned ten minutes later, probably with Joker being swapped with a double. When headquarters asked about the delay, the driver claimed there were "emergencies at the back door."
To summarize, the imbeciles at Blackgate believed they could secretly transfer the Joker to Arkham to prevent his men from trying to rescue him, which backfired.
Now Joker's free, with no one knowing his whereabouts.
'Eden, call Commissioner Gordon.' I should inform him about this, because this time it's going to be something big.
{He's unreachable, sir. His phone appears to be destroyed. Two hours ago, Commissioner Gordon received an anonymous call about his daughter being held hostage at a movie theater in the slums. Following that call, he left the CCPD in his personal vehicle and was last seen entering the slums.}
So, the Joker has taken Gordon and possibly Barbara...
How cliché, how boring. Kidnapping the loved ones has been done a thousand times in Batman comics and most superhero comics; this kind of trope isn't exciting anymore.
What's next? Is he planning to blow up bridges, isolate Gotham from the outside world, and release toxic gas?
I mean, if it were me, I would have found a double for Gordon, replaced him, and tortured the real Gordon until he was utterly broken. Then, I would swap him back with the double and manipulate him into destroying Gotham, slowly and subtly breaking the hero until he has nothing left, just a shattered body and mind—just like I did with Lady Shiva.
***
The slums, the most chaotic and lawless area in all of Gotham, an abandoned part of Gotham on the outskirts of the city. filled with the most vile criminals and desperate people, a place where the pinnacle of technology is merely a radio.
A place where people steal the milk of a newborn baby or kill each other because they didn't like the way you breathe.
A place deemed worthless and abandoned by everyone in Gotham, but I tried to change this place. I put homeless shelters, but they were raided on the very first day.
I tried to build schools and hospitals offering free education and healthcare. I even hired construction workers from the slums to give them a chance to earn a living and reintegrate into society. Yet, just two days before, the workers began stealing materials to sell and demanding higher pay for less work.
Then, in a final attempt, I brought in workers from outside the slums to complete these projects and called in a favor from Jim Gordon for police protection at the construction sites. At first, he refused to send officers into the slums and even suggested I give up, and he was right, as the police and workers faced assaults within a week, leaving most hospitalized, with only a few fortunate enough to escape unscathed.
Did I give up? No, I'm Batman; there is no such thing as giving up in my book.
Though it's a bit embarrassing to admit, I've grown to care for this city, a place where I've spent two lifetimes. Despite its flaws and darkness, Gotham is my home—a place where I sacrificed my childhood and sanity to protect. I refuse to let my efforts go to waste; Gotham deserves better.
My new plan for the slums is to put Penguin on a leash, make him recruit his men from the slums, and while doing so, distinguish between them: those who are willing to work in legal jobs and reintegrate into society and those who choose to refuse to change and work on the illegal side. That way, those lowlifes will be forced to face me one day.
Just as I was about to shoot a hook onto a rooftop, I overheard a conversation between two men discussing a woman who was distributing free food, guarded by a group of female 'ninjas,' which piqued my curiosity.
Sneaking behind them, I tapped one on the temple, knocking him out, while I grabbed the top of the head of the other one, lifting him up to my eye level.
"The woman you talked about, where is she?" I asked 'politely.'
"Oh, God," he stammered, raising a trembling hand to point north.
"She, she, sh—ugh," he started to say before foaming at the mouth and passing out.
I took the gun knife from his pocket, melted it with my thermal gauntlet, and tossed it away.
As the saying goes, in the slums, only the newborns and the dead are innocent.
I shot a hook to the edge of a building and launched myself upward, gliding north in the direction the man pointed. In the air, I noticed people moving towards the north from all sides.
After a hundred or so meters, I reached a square in the slums. Switching to my stealth suit, I landed on one of the rooftops.
Hundreds of people gathered around a large white tent, like the ones in the desert, that was in the middle of the open square. A group of women in ninja armor and with swords were surrounding the tent, preventing anyone from sneaking in and thoroughly checking the ones entering the tent.
Inside the tent, there wasn't much happening except for a bunch of food being distributed by a woman.
A woman I recognized all too well... Talia al Ghul.
I wondered what gave her the confidence to be in Gotham after my warning.
Leaping down, I glided over the tent, releasing my cape and phasing through the fabric.
Standing behind Talia, I watched as she handed food to people with a smile on her face, her smile radiating kindness, almost saintly. She patted the little kid's head lovingly, the same hands that were stained by the blood of countless innocents.
Everything seemed ordinary, except for her peculiar behavior whenever a child approached the tent. She would glance at the one stationed at the entrance, who would either shake their head or nod in response.
If they shook their heads, Talia would simply hand over the food and send the children away. If they nodded, she would entice them with more food, assuring them they could eat as much as they wanted, never go hungry, and sleep in warm beds without fear.
She was basically recruiting for the league under the guise of being a kind, benevolent saint.
Because I didn't want to waste time here, I switched back into my bat-suit.
"Talia," I called out, causing her to flinch as she quickly turned and kicked at me.
I caught her thigh and pushed her back; she stumbled slightly, her ass hitting the table filled with food.
Her guards outside crawl inside the tent, their swords drawn, pointing at me.
Pushing herself away from the table, Talia waved off her guards and approached me, pressing her body against mine as her hand brushed my mask.
"So beautiful, so strong," she murmured, her voice soft and warm.
Here we go again—I wonder if she's the type who can't help but touch when she speaks.
I know it's my fault since I'm not pushing her away, but... I can't deny that I kinda enjoy the attention of beautiful women.
Of course, not enough to lose my focus.
"I told you to leave Gotham, Talia," I said while pushing her away.
"I did leave, just as you asked. But the farther I went, the more my heart ached for you. I couldn't bear the pain, so I returned. I came back for you," she replied, her watery eyes filled with love and her body looking frail and vulnerable as she leaned against me once more.
"Is that why you are tricking children instead of finding me?"
"Oh, beloved, I'm not deceiving them. Those kids will become Gotham's protectors; I'll personally train them to be your warriors, your instruments for cleansing this city of its filth, making it pure."
Trojan horse, conquer the enemy within. So that was her goal: training those children so that she could take over Gotham, using Gotham's children.
Should I kill her... but I don't have any reason to do that yet since she hasn't exactly done anything bad other than annoy me.
Perhaps I could erase her existence with my bat-reality-tweaker gun... but that might be premature; I don't want cosmic beings to realize I can do such things.
Wiping her memory with the naturalizer is also off the table since one way or another we will cross paths again; either she will hear me from someone else or something, which will make her revert to her old self.
Torture... maybe not; she is already obsessed with me; I don't want to add Stockholm syndrome to that—one Lady Shiva is more than
Lock her up...nah, that will only work for a while since even if Ra's al Ghul gives zero fucks about her, she still holds a high rank in the League, and others would come looking for her.
I could take over League, although that is exactly what she wants. I could always make her a puppet ruler, keeping her too busy for me.
Sigh... this is on me; I got so caught up in transforming the slums that I neglected to keep an eye on things. If I had set up cameras and drones, I would have known Talia was still in Gotham.
As I moved my hand to her throat, I began to gently stroke it with my thumb.
"Talia, third time's the charm. Step into Gotham again, and I promise it will be your last," I said, locking my gaze with hers, my voice completely devoid of emotion.
Talia dropped her affectionate act; her warm smile faded, replaced by an indifferent expression, and her once loving gaze turned cold.
"You're merely postponing the inevitable, Batman. The League will cleanse the world, restoring its purity, and you will belong to me," she declared, suddenly pulling a knife from behind her and slashing at my throat.
I stepped back to dodge the blade, and with the space between us, she leaped, wrapping her legs around my neck in an attempt to tackle me.
"..."
An eerie silence filled the tent as the outside noise faded away, leaving an awkward stillness inside.
I remained still, my hand on Talia's throat while she clung to my arm like a koala, her legs still locked around my neck.
Releasing my grip on her throat, I seized the back of her clothing with my other hand, prying her off and setting her down on the ground.
She brushed her clothes off and she took a deep breath before looking up at me with a cold expression, trying to maintain her composure, though I could see the tips of her ears were red from embarrassment.
I'm pretty sure now that even without my warning, she won't show up in Gotham for a while, if ever.
We stood there, staring at each other, neither of us uttering a word until I pulled out my most effective weapon against women like her.
Thot spray.
I sprayed it directly into her face, sidestepping as she collapsed face-first into the dirt, and then I switched to my stealth suit and left.