> "We're... we're alive?"
"Oh my god, we're alive!"
"Holander! It was Holander who saved us!"
"Thank god-it's Holander!"
Inside the elevator, the six passengers were still shaking, their eyes wide in disbelief.
Then, when they finally recognized the face standing before them, their confusion turned into pure awe.
It really was Holander who saved them.
> "Holander, thank you! You saved us!"
"You really saved our lives!"
One after another, they stumbled out their gratitude, still pale and trembling.
When the elevator had dropped, they'd been sure they were dead
n.
> "As long as you're all safe, that's what matters."
Alex nodded lightly.
Around them, Catwoman and the other onlookers rushed forward to help the shaken survivors out of the car.
Then-
> "Wait... what's that?"
Catwoman's sharp eyes had caught sothing on the floor inside the elevator.
It was an envelope.
Maybe one of the passengers had dropped it?
But who even writes letters anymore?
Before she could reach for it, Alex raised a hand.
The envelope trembled, floated up from the ground as if pulled by invisible strings, and landed gently in his palm.
The crowd gasped again.
>"Incredible..."
"That's Holander for you-pure magic!"
Alex looked down at the envelope.
On the front, written in bold, deliberate strokes, were four words:
"To: Holander."
> "It's... addressed to you?"
Catwoman blinked, her instincts imdiately kicking in.
This wasn't right.
Holander had just stopped a murder attempt-
and now, at the cri scene, there just happened to be a letter waiting for him?
Coincidence? Not a chance.
Alex's lips curled into a cold smile.
He already knew who had sent it.
In Gotham, there was only one criminal who loved to make a show out of his cris, who used elaborate puzzles and riddles to prove his superiority.
The Riddler.
Alex tore open the envelope.
Inside were three cards, each neatly printed with a riddle.
1. A diamond plate, a shining hearth, a place you will never leave- where am I?
2. It slls like green paint, pours like purple paint, and covers a white van-what is it?
3. A nightmare to so, a savior to others. My hands are cold and desperate, reaching for a warm heart-what am I?
The Riddler.
Alex's hunch was dead on.
Edward Nygma-the Riddler.
A man with no superpowers, but a mind so sharp it once outmatched even Batman's.
An obsessive puzzle-solver who had turned his love for riddles into a deadly art.
A criminal genius who killed for the thrill of intellectual domination.
> "What's all this supposed to an?"
Catwoman frowned, scanning the cards, but the clues made her head spin.
> "It ans soone just declared war on ."
Alex's tone was calm, his expression unreadable.
> "The one who orchestrated the elevator attack is going to strike
again.
And the next murder target... is hidden inside these riddles."
Catwoman's eyes widened.
A challenge?
Soone was actually challenging Holander?
Was this person insane?
For half a month, Gotham had been unnaturally quiet.
Under Holander's watch, cri had plumted; even the most hardened thugs had gone to ground.
But this... this was proof that so maniacs couldn't resist testing the
impossible.
This was Gotham, after all-
a city that never ran out of lunatics.
> "Holander..."
Catwoman looked up at Alex, her expression grave.
This was the first open act of defiance since Holander's bloody
purge of Gotham's underworld.
If he didn't handle this flawlessly-
his reputation, his authority, his fear factor-
would all take a massive hit.
The criminals he'd cowed into submission would rise again,
emboldened.
Catwoman knew it.
So she imdiately began trying to decode the riddles, running through every possible interpretation she could think of.
But the clues were abstract, cryptic.
The more she thought, the more lost she felt.
> "Don't bother."
Alex's voice cut through her thoughts.
He gave a faint, almost amused laugh and tossed the three cards
aside.
> "I already have my answer."
> "You... you already solved them?"
Catwoman stared, dumbfounded.
It had barely been a minute.
She hadn't even found a starting point, and he'd already figured it
out?
> "No," Alex said with a knowing smile. "I don't need to solve them."
When the elevator cables snapped, his super vision had shown him
everything.
The shaft had been empty-no one there.
That ant the bomb had been planted ahead of ti and detonated
remotely.
And the timing-
the explosion happening just as he arrived-
was far too perfect to be coincidence.
It wasn't a tir bomb.
It was triggered manually.
Which ant the Riddler had been watching.
He'd been monitoring the hotel, watching Alex's every move, and
detonated the bomb the second he stepped inside.
So at that exact mont, Alex had extended his super hearing-
and listened.
Across the entire city, every sound, every voice.
And then he heard it.
Five kiloters away-
a sharp, panicked voice.
> "That's impossible! He actually caught it?!"
Alex had locked on instantly.
That was him.
The Riddler.
The self-proclaid mastermind thought he was safe, hidden,
untouchable.
That his little "riddle ga" would keep him in control.
But he had already exposed himself the mont he spoke.
Alex now knew who he was.
He didn't even need to solve the riddles.
All he had to do was watch the man. Sooner or later, the next target would reveal itself.
As for killing the Riddler right now?
That would be easy-too easy.
But Alex wasn't interested in easy. Half a month had passed.
Perhaps the criminals of Gotham had started to think that
Holander's blade had dulled.
So be it.
Now he would remind them-
that his sword was still razor-sharp,
and that anyone who challenged him...
would bleed.
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