"What's going on? Why isn't that new director answering his phone?"
"The mercenaries who were in contact with me earlier can't be reached either..."
"Has anyone gone to Arkham Asylum to take a look? Why was it suddenly locked down? Who gave that new director the nerve?"
"Forget it, you go. I'm not going. If someone catches me on camera again, I'm finished..."
"There are traps everywhere. Who would dare go?"
"Try contacting him from another number. I don't believe he really dares to oppose us!"
Words like these continued to spread through shelters and safe houses. At this point, Schiller had become the most sought-after figure in high society. Every important person in Gotham was trying to contact him.
But he had vanished.
Arkham Asylum had become Gotham's most impenetrable fortress.
The emergency containment measures Batman had designed, but which had almost never truly been put into use, had taken effect. Exploiting each criminal's particular weakness, they trapped them inside their cells.
Of course, not all of them. A few of the more capable ones occasionally escaped. But wasn't that convenient? The corridors were packed with traps.
Every criminal's escape plan ended in failure. For the first time in its history, Arkham Asylum had fulfilled the duty of an asylum prison—keeping the madmen locked inside.
Some might have wondered: if Bruce had already brought the criminals under control, why were they trying to get out?
Because Bruce was trapped in there too.
Schiller had not given him any special treatment. The recreation room's door had locked directly, and by the time Bruce realized it, it was too late. He could not get out either.
After spending ages forcing the door open, what did he find? High-powered UV lamps everywhere, along with the freeze guns Victor had left behind when