Gotham City.
For the people of this city, this should have been a very unfamiliar night.
Because Batman had not appeared for three whole days, which was highly unusual.
If the city had not just emerged from a terrifying virus attack, even the demons and criminals who usually dared to operate right under Batman's nose would have begun recuperating after this viral incident.
God knew how chaotic Gotham would have become after Batman had been absent for three consecutive days.
Even as people lay in hospital beds, recovering from the weakness left by the virus, a shocking rumor quietly began to spread by word of mouth.
Batman had died in that terrible virus outbreak.
"Have you ever seen Batman rest?"
"Of course I have. I did the math. On average, he takes about one day off every three years."
"Damn it, I mean resting continuously like this. Besides, when he occasionally skipped work before, Robin or Nightwing would show up in his place."
"Yeah. Gotham has been quiet for three nights. No one has claimed to see strange shadows wandering around at night."
"He must be dead."
Oracle lay in a hospital bed. Well, she was just Barbara Gordon now, an ordinary girl resting in a hospital bed as well.
Listening to the infuriating gossip from the next bed over, Barbara wanted nothing more than to yank open the curtain, jump down, and smash their mouths in.
Yes, Barbara swore she could do it, even from a wheelchair.
As for why the great Oracle was not recuperating in the Batcave, but had come out to be hospitalized like an ordinary person?
It was because the Batcave had become more chaotic than ever over the past few days, making it completely unsuitable for a patient who needed peace and quiet to