Batwoman's rented apartment was northeast of the Metropolis Museum, only a few hundred meters away. This was a cultural and arts district where many culture- and art-related companies were gathered, along with several newspapers and publishing houses.
The apartment was in excellent condition, and the rent was not cheap either. But Batwoman's building was newly constructed, and the facilities were very new. So the moment she failed to push the door open, she knew the door definitely was not broken—the factory protective film on it had not even been peeled off yet.
She shoved it again. With a thud, another pained cry came from outside. Through the crack in the opening door, Batwoman saw Clark clutching his forehead.
"What are you doing????"
"I wanted to look through the peephole and see if anyone was inside."
Batwoman squeezed through the doorway, glanced at the peephole that had already been smashed to pieces and the dent Clark's forehead had left in the door, and tightened her grip on the handle.
"Do you need something?"
Batwoman swore she had packed at least a ton of menace into those words, something like a combination of "You'd better have a reason" and "You'd better not have one, so get lost."
"Uh, well, our newspaper opened a new branch here, and I got transferred over..."
"Got?"
"Fine, I applied for it. But the apartments here are much better than those old rundown places downtown, and the rent is cheaper too, so I..."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"I remembered you lived here too..."
"You just remembered?"
Clark looked at her without speaking.
Then two barks came from downstairs. Both of them turned toward the stairwell at the same time—and so did the apartment Administrator's furious shouting.
"No pets are allowed in this apartment