Three Days

"You're going to stick that thing into my body?"

"Of course. Don't be nervous, Ivy. I'll be gentle."

"You know I've been afraid of this since I was little."

"The best way to overcome fear is to face it with a smile. Besides, how am I supposed to conduct my research without your blood?"

Ivy had been surprised to learn that Jude Herbert was a scientist—and an incredibly brilliant one at that—but by now, she had started getting used to it.

As the needle slowly entered her body, blood was drawn out bit by bit. Its color was strange, though: red with a faint hint of green.

"Is that my blood? Why is it green?"

"Green is right. Otherwise, how could you control plants? But the serum Arkham injected into you was probably only a semi-finished product. What I need to do now is optimize your genes so you can achieve complete control."

"Of course, that will take some time. All you need to do next is wait patiently."

With the equipment and blood in place, Jude once again plunged into frenzied research. After spending half the day observing through a microscope, he extracted genetic fragments from Ivy's body.

He then began separating the genes. The process demanded extreme caution and was very time-consuming. If he really had that old man assisting him, the guy definitely would not have had the patience to see it through.

After isolating the genes, Jude found that beneath Ivy's normal human genes was indeed another layer, one resembling genes extracted from plants.

And that layer of plant genes was incredibly complex. Through comparison, he identified dozens of species: cacti, lilies, morning glories, ginkgo trees, Boston ivy, South American vines, and more—not to mention the ones he had yet to identify.

What was more, these plant genes were slowly devouring Ivy's human genes. That was why her skin had turned green. If things continued at this rate, Ivy would probably become completely plant-like within half a year.

When he told Ivy about his findings, the girl was terrified, just as expected. Swallowing hard, she asked, "What will happen if I turn into a plant?"

"It'll be miserable. Your feet will turn into roots and burrow into the ground. You'll never be able to move again. You won't be able to eat either—you'll only be able to absorb nutrients from the soil. Though those nutrients might be made from feces."

Jude's brief description nearly made Ivy throw up. Clutching her head in terror, she cried, "No! I don't want to absorb feces! Herbert, you have to save me."

"Am I not saving you already? As long as I can create a serum that changes your genetic structure, not only will you be fine, you'll become absolutely perfect."

This research took longer than the Penguin's had. His condition had only been a genetic mutation, relatively simple by comparison, while Ivy's involved a mixture of countless genes—possibly thousands of them. Even with Grandpa Rick's intellect and talent, the process was still lengthy.

After spending a full half month holed up in the laboratory, Jude finally figured out that Ivy had a staggering 3,543 different plant genes tangled up inside her.

Even he had to admit that was impressive. It seemed the people at Arkham had some real skill. So many genes had been fused together without causing a rejection reaction. That alone deserved respect.

But Jude did not know that the plant serum injected into Ivy had actually been researched in the depths of Arkham for decades. The manpower, resources, and funding invested in it were beyond counting. Before Hugo Strange took over, the research had already passed through several generations of scientists.

Yet Jude had cracked the genetic code in only half a month. He was even confident that he could create a gentle, stable, perfect version within seven days.

With the first stage complete, Jude yawned as he walked out of the laboratory. His hair was a mess, his face was grimy, and he looked thoroughly disheveled. He also gave off a sour stench.

Ignoring the white-coated researchers who swarmed into the lab, Jude left on his own. He took a hot shower first, then happily sat down to a lavish meal. Ivy sat across from him, looking somewhat nervous.

"What's wrong, Ivy? Didn't I tell you? The research has made progress. You'll be fine soon."

After hesitating for a moment, Ivy said, "No, that's not what I'm worried about. Bridget was attacked two days ago."

"Attacked? Wasn't she staying at the Iceberg Lounge?"

"She was, but she got bored and went out. She was attacked that night. Her right arm was injured and fractured."

Jude frowned. "Who attacked her? Don't tell me it was Batman."

Half a month had passed since Arkham had been breached. Jude knew perfectly well that not only Batman, but likely the people controlling the depths of Arkham and the Foot Clan had already traced him down.

It was only because Gotham was too chaotic right now. Villains like Clayface, Two-Face, Electro, Kite Man, Ventriloquist, and Mad Hatter had all come out to cause trouble, tying down the Bat Family and Arkham. That was why he could enjoy a brief moment of peace, but it would not last long.

"It wasn't Batman. It was the kind of person we encountered in the depths of Arkham."

"The one with absurdly strong regenerative abilities?"

"Yes. Bridget fled into a bar and barely managed to get away by blending into the crowd."

Jude had seriously considered the identity of that regenerative man. There were plenty of people in American comics with healing abilities, such as the most famous Captain America, Deathstroke, Deadpool, and so on. But none of them had deep ties to Gotham City, and they could not possibly have been lurking beneath Arkham.

Among the characters who fit that description and might be hiding in Arkham, the most likely were Talons—the enforcers of the Court of Owls, the hidden villains manipulating Gotham.

The person in charge of the depths of Arkham was Hugo Strange. He could not possibly have supported such a massive operation on his own. So who might have been backing him?

Maroni? Falcone? The mobs? It was possible, but gangs were more interested in making money and fighting over turf. Human experimentation clearly was not their thing.

The Court of Owls was different. To control Gotham for the long term—and even spread their influence to the surrounding areas, across America, and throughout the world—they needed superpowered enforcers. They needed to deal with Batman, perhaps even other superheroes. Talons alone were not enough. The depths of Arkham were probably their creation.

Just then, the phone rang. Jude checked it and saw that it was the Penguin.

"Hello, Mr. Oswald."

The Penguin did not bother with pleasantries and got straight to the point. "Mr. Herbert, it seems you've offended someone you shouldn't have. Now they want me to hand you over."

Jude took a large gulp of vodka, exhaled a blast of hot breath, and said, "Let me guess who. People from the Court of Owls, right?"

After a moment of silence, the Penguin said quietly, "You know about them."

"Of course. I know everything. Your Cobblepot Family hasn't joined the Court, has it?"

The Penguin fell silent again. He had been abandoned as a child. Although he had now gained recognition and rejoined the family, there were still many things he did not know. Jude clearly knew more than he did, and that made him uncomfortable.

"That's right. So I didn't hand you over immediately. But I am considering it. After all, the price they offered is quite tempting."

"Mr. Oswald, people shouldn't repay kindness with ingratitude. That's how you end up with no friends."

The Penguin laughed loudly. "But friends can't help me run for mayor, can they?"

This time, Jude fell silent. After a while, he said, "Three days. Give me three days, and I'll finish the work I have on hand. Then we'll be even. After that, you can sell us out and make another profit."

"Very well. Deal."

There have been major personnel changes at work lately, and I've been swamped. Thank you to all the readers for your tips. Thank you, everyone.