"Hey! Who are you?!" the man shouted as he quickly drew a pistol and aid it at the stranger.
"..."
The masked man said nothing—he simply kept walking forward.
"Shoot him! Kill him!" the man yelled to the others upon realizing he wouldn’t get an answer.
In their minds, this masked figure was probably connected to Batman sohow.
One of the n imdiately grabbed an M4A1 and fired a burst of bullets.
But for so reason, the bullets never reached the masked man. It was as if they vanished before they could touch him.
When the n stopped shooting, the masked figure calmly extended his hands forward and opened them.
Dozens of bullet casings dropped from his hands, shocking the n.
Terrified, one of them ran to the van, grabbed a rocket launcher, quickly loaded it on his shoulder, and fired.
The masked man—acting like a certain soone with slicked-back dark blond hair, a long black coat, and those ever-present sunglasses—
caught the rocket with his bare hands.
He then squeezed it, causing it to explode.
To the horror of everyone present, the masked man calmly walked out of the smoke cloud.
"Yep, we’re in Gotham," he said with a tone of sarcastic amusent. "Where gunfire is just the birdsong of dawn... But using heavy weaponry like this, in the Bat’s territory? Are you idiots really that eager to get his attention?"
The silence was shattered by a scream of panic.
"Damn it, he’s right! Fall back! Retreat, now!!" the leader shouted, overco by the coward’s instinct to survive.
But it was too late.
The masked man was already standing in front of him, as if space itself had folded to allow his inevitable approach. His hand gripped the man’s throat.
"Please! Don’t kill ! I—I can give you whatever you want! Money, power—"
"Silence," the masked man interrupted coldly.
"You dare think you can offer anything, mutt? What I want... is not given. It is taken. By right. By power. And by my will."
After speaking, the masked man slamd the guy into a wall and turned toward one of the suitcases. Opening it and seeing that it was indeed full of cash, he closed it again and started walking toward the remaining n.
"Let’s end this quickly and go ho..." he muttered.
As he approached, suddenly sothing shaped like a bat flew past him and landed in front of his feet.
A mont later, an imposing figure clad in black landed in front of him, staring at him with cold, analytical eyes.
The black cowl covered the entire head, exposing only the jaw. It’s anatomically shaped, with pointed ears resembling a bat’s. In addition to protecting his head with light bulletproof materials, the cowl also contains communication systems, night vision, thermal scanners, and facial recognition. His expression is cold, almost inhuman, and the glowing white eyes hide any trace of humanity.
His torso is covered by reinforced armor made of Kevlar and lightweight titanium plates—resistant to bullets, blades, and blunt impacts. At the center is the iconic bat symbol: wide, stylized, and not just aesthetic—it sits on the most reinforced part of the armor, designed to draw fire to the area with the most protection.
He wears a long black cape made of smart fabric, which behaves like a living extension of his body. It can be used to glide silently through the air or to wrap around him and vanish into the shadows.
The golden utility belt around his waist carries pouches and compartnts where he stores his famous Batarangs, smoke grenades, trackers, miniature saws, electronic devices, a dical kit, and an almost endless array of tools. Every item has its place and purpose, allowing quick access even during combat.
His arms are protected by reinforced gauntlets, with retractable blades or serrated edges used for both defense and offense. The gloves include sensors, climbing hooks, and reinforced knuckles for devastating punches.
His legs are clad in flexible ballistic fabric with reinforced plates. The boots are heavy, armored, and designed for impact and stability. The soles have anti-slip grips, traction hooks, and can conceal hidden devices like blades or shock charges.
This was, without a shadow of a doubt—Batman.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in Gotham?" Batman asked imdiately.
"I’m not doing anything in Gotham. I just arrived today... and unfortunately, I don’t have a way to leave at the mont."
Batman was the hero he admired most. A man of imnse willpower and resilience, one of the founders of the Justice League, and in many universes, soone capable of defeating incredibly powerful beings on his own.
"I won’t let soone this suspicious roam free in Gotham. Tell exactly who you are." Batman stepped closer, ready to fight at any mont.
"As much as I’d like to talk with you... I don’t have ti right now. See you later, Batman." The masked man sighed, shaking his head.
Then, he turned—and before Batman could react, he vanished.
"Alfred, can you track his location?" Batman asked, pressing his communicator.
{"Unfortunately not, Master Bruce,"} Alfred’s courteous voice responded through the comm.
{"None of the nearby caras caught a glimpse of his exit."}
"And the tracker?"
{"No signal. I believe he already found it and destroyed it,"} Alfred replied.
{"There’s also a strange source of interference. It may take so ti to locate him."}
"I see..." Batman murmured, turning back to look at the man lying on the ground and at the "rchandise."
---
The masked man—or rather, Arthur—arrived at a small building.
He planned to sort out his housing situation before dealing with anything else.
"Fill out this form with your info. Rent’s $600 a month," the woman at the front desk said without even looking at him as she handed him a form.
Arthur ignored the form and instead placed a thick wad of bills on the counter, imdiately grabbing her attention.
She took the stack and started counting. A few seconds later, she smiled, took a key from the display behind her, and handed it to Arthur.
"Room 302, sweetheart," she said with a flirtatious smile.
It wasn’t every day a handso guy with money walked in.
"Thanks," Arthur replied without expression, turned, and headed toward his apartnt.
Money could solve a lot of things in Gotham.
As he approached the door to his apartnt, Arthur suddenly felt sothing brush against his leg.
Looking down, he saw an adorable black cat rubbing against him.
Arthur smiled and knelt to pick up the cat, gently stroking it as if he were already used to handling felines.
The cat seed to lt in his arms, purring loudly and making Arthur chuckle unconsciously.
"This is the first ti I’ve seen him get that close to anyone. Looks like he likes you," ca a pleasant voice nearby.
Arthur turned and saw the resident of Room 301.
She was a striking woman with long dark hair, green eyes, and an athletic build.
"I’ve always been good with cats," Arthur said, placing the cat gently on the ground. It imdiately returned to the woman.
"You just got to Gotham, didn’t you?" she asked with a smile, sizing him up.
"Yeah. How’d you know?"
"You sll different from Gotham," she said, stepping a bit closer. The distance between them was short, and Arthur could sll her scent. Natural body perfu.
"A strong, warm, tempting scent...
Unlike Gotham’s usual rancid, filthy stink."
"This is the first ti soone’s flirted with that way. Tell , what’s your na?" Arthur asked with a smile as he unlocked his door.
"Selina. My na is Selina Kyle."
---
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain , try to throw those pathetic power stones at . Let’s see if even your insolence can amuse a king."
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