"Don't! Don't kill me! The Sorcerer Supreme won't let you get away with this!"
At that moment, Agent sat on the left side of the backseat in the Batmobile driven by Arkham Batman. On the right sat a somewhat unfamiliar-looking human, dressed in a suit and glasses, looking refined and scholarly. He was bound hand and foot, his face full of terror.
"Behave," Schiller told him. "We don't make a habit of taking it out on ordinary people, but you'd better not move around, or else..."
"I know, I know. I've got elderly parents and young children to support. Please don't kill me. I haven't done anything bad..."
"How many years did you get?" "Only three. I..."
Realizing he had let something slip, the man fell silent awkwardly. Then he lowered his voice and said, "I was just the fall guy. The big boss insisted on misappropriating funds. There was nothing I could do..."
"After you got out, you went to work at the Sanctum Sanctorum?"
"They paid well, and the benefits weren't bad either."
"That wasn't the main reason, was it?"
"Uh, to win the jury's sympathy, I gave up my boss and two colleagues. If I got out, they'd chop me into pieces. Mainly, I was looking for safety."
"Then why did you go to the space station?"
"Someone at the office was pursuing me, and I didn't really want to say yes. So I took the chance to get away from Earth. If I stayed on the space station, I wouldn't have to see him..."
"Tell the truth," Schiller said expressionlessly.
"I signed a contract with Blackheart. He wanted me to be an informant, but I refused. I went to the space station to lie low."
"You really refused?"
"I took the money but didn't do the