No Technical Skill at All

The massive fan-acquisition campaign was still going strong. The new Batman's popularity remained sky-high, and newspapers ran follow-up reports about him every day. For example, Batman had rammed several thugs who were committing crimes last night, beaten up the criminals, taken photos with fans afterward, and raced through the night to evade a police blockade.

The papers even mocked the utterly useless Gotham Police Department, who had been left so far behind in the chase that they had not even seen his taillights.

Batman had initially been uneasy about his sudden influx of fans. After all, he had never been popular before; the public had seen him as a freak. After a brief period of adjustment, though, he began to enjoy the treatment somewhat. Even the ever-calm Old Master had a desire to be acknowledged, especially now that he was not particularly reliable.

Batman had been deeply conflicted lately. He knew he had changed, but he could not change back. In daily life, he was lazy, dispirited, and unambitious. His mind clearly resisted it, but his body was painfully honest, always choosing whatever was most comfortable. Fortunately, once he put on the Batsuit, he was still the Dark Knight who carried out justice. The only difference was that his behavior had become colder, and he kept pushing the limits further and further.

Batman was worried that one day, he would break his rule against killing. It was not an unfounded concern, because every time he saw a truly heinous criminal, he felt the urge to floor the accelerator. There was something else that bothered him as well. Whenever he put on the Batsuit, an evil grin would unconsciously creep onto his face. If he had not restrained himself desperately, he would have laughed like Joker by now.

Speaking of Joker,