Bat's Shadow

On the streets of Audisburg District, late at night when all was quiet, a heavy truck was transporting goods through the city.

Carl held the steering wheel with one hand, a hamburger in the other, and glanced out the window carelessly. This was Gotham's night. It was 10:05 PM, and there were hardly any pedestrians or vehicles left on the street. The empty streets undoubtedly ignited his passion, and his speed had reached eighty.

He was an old freight driver in Gotham, having driven this route for years. This speed was nothing to him.

A driver in Metropolis might try to balance their speed with the safety of passersby, but in Gotham, Joel had long since realized that the only way to make money was to break conventional thinking. Of course, if necessary, breaking a few passersby was also acceptable.

After all, the reason he'd managed to get this far without ending up in the Gotham PD wasn't just his driving skills, but also his speed, and a few good brothers who specialized in cleaning up traces.

And, to be fair, his driving skills were indeed good. Over the years, he hadn't crashed into too many people. Although there were significantly fewer people passing through this route at this time, he didn't think it was his problem.

"Life will find a way~"

He mumbled indistinctly while chewing his hamburger, calculating that he hadn't hit anyone this year. He considered himself to be living a life of good deeds.

"Woohoo--!"

Just as he was feeling smugly pleased in his heart, a sharp, excited shout accompanied by a dazzling stream of colorful light flew past his car window.

The shout seemed to carry a mix of excitement, joy, fear, and a sense of relaxation.

What the hell kind of relaxation was that?

What the hell was that thing?

His eyes widened like saucers. He threw down his hamburger and leaned forward, craning his neck to get a clear look at the true nature of the colorful light. In that instant, his mind raced through many possibilities.

A rock-and-roll ice cream truck with rockets strapped to its backside, a terrorist's dazzling motorcycle bomb, the midnight legend of a road ghost racer, a ghost rider on a phantom motorcycle, a psycho in a skin-tight suit driving a homemade super-war vehicle.

"No, that's not right." He watched the streak of light disappear into the distance, a look of existential confusion in his eyes.

"Is that a glowing wheelchair?"

"Woohoo--!"

At the same time, Ma Zhaodi, on his heavily modified electric wheelchair, was experiencing the ultimate sensation of speed.

One modification, full power! Full speed straight to 120, coupled with Intermediate Mastery in Wheelchair Driving for three hundred asset points, you are now the wheelchair version of Takumi Fujiwara on Mount Akina! Eighty miles per hour is the limit of this electric wheelchair, but it's far from your limit!

Dazzling and colorful, the wheelchair's built-in LED light strips instantly make you the brightest kid on the street! From now on, you'll never have to worry about the awkward situation of no one noticing you when overtaking on the highway. Even when sharing the frame with Ghost Rider, you won't be at a disadvantage in terms of special effects!

Thoughtful design, protection from wind and rain! Streamlined body structure, comfortable shock-absorbing seat, seatbelts and airbags all included, providing excellent protection for your body!

In just seven minutes, Ma Zhaodi had driven the wheelchair out of Audisburg and was about to enter the East End. The few remaining tough guys on the street, seeing a colorful wheelchair speeding across the road, basically lost any idea of robbing or stealing.

Damn it, who could hit a target like this speeding and drifting?

Of course, Gotham City never lacked its crazies, and there were still a few individuals who were confident in their marksmanship and took aim at the phantom wheelchair.

However, these bullets naturally missed. The streak of light merely swerved a few times, making their aim wobble erratically. The few shots that were fired were completely off the mark.

Only a few people managed to seize the fleeting opportunity, capturing the phantom wheelchair in their phone cameras and uploading it to blogs and forums.

Reassuringly, before it became faster than light, at least it was still possible to confirm through these means that it wasn't an urban legend.

Ma Zhaodi, speeding at maximum velocity, veered from the road into the narrow buildings of the East End, his speed undiminished.

Any alley the width of the wheelchair could pass through was a road he could take. Thus, the colorful phantom weaved through the narrow streets of the dilapidated housing complex with extreme agility, like some kind of elusive ghost.

However, the route was based on the Gotham map navigation provided by the System's Q&A. To be honest, its reliability was far superior to that of a morally bankrupt navigation system.

Finally, he arrived at a narrow alley. The map indicated he needed to dismount. Ma Zhaodi braked quickly, and after a drift, the wheelchair stopped precisely at the alley entrance. He stood up and lifted it lightly, and the two sides of the wheelchair immediately folded inwards, transforming it into a unicycle.

After pushing the unicycle through the narrow alley, Drake's house was in front of him.

"Let's see... 10:12 PM, not too bad. I'll modify it again tomorrow. I can still pick it up at this time."

It was hard to say whether Gotham would have an urban legend of a phantom wheelchair race in a few days. But anyway, the city was already so crazy, what was a wheelchair at 120 mph?

So, he casually carried the "old man's happy chair" into the building.

Meanwhile, on the rooftop of a building somewhere in the East End, Catwoman, who had previously saved the young man, watched him disappear from view with the phantom wheelchair. She silently processed everything she had just witnessed, and at that moment, she regretted what she had done.

"I originally thought Gotham couldn't get any crazier."

Ma Zhaodi: Nonsense!

At this moment, Carl was still driving with one hand, cursing on the road.

"This is unbelievable. I've never seen anything like this in my life—Gotham is getting weirder and weirder."

Just then, a black bat-like shadow flew across the sky. Its enormous shadow quickly enveloped Carl's truck and then slid down onto the roof.

"What the hell is Scarecrow, Penguin, and the recently emerged Mr. Freeze. Damn it, Gotham has more and more freaks. Oh, and there's also this urban legend of a bat monster."

He spat viciously out the window: "They all deserve to die."

"Crack!"

The windshield was directly shattered, and a pitch-black figure instantly appeared in the narrow cockpit.

It was like a ghost, like a nightmare, like fear itself.

Like some unstoppable, calm madness.

Looking at its pupil-less eyes, wide black wings, and sharp ears, Carl couldn't help but recall the urban legend he had heard countless times.

Whenever night fell, a terrifying black bat would circle the skies of Gotham City, keeping a close watch on everyone who dared to commit evil, or had already committed evil, bringing them unforgettable fear and swift, decisive punishment.

So, filled with terror and despair, he stammered out its name.

"B-Batman!"