Batman Makes a Stunning Debut

When Anton first took over the Daily Bugle, Jameson had been extremely dissatisfied with his performance.

Fortunately, the Daily Bugle had a set of operating procedures Jameson had established long ago. Even if Anton did nothing at all, the Daily Bugle could continue running steadily for years.

Jameson's dissatisfaction peaked when Anton suddenly changed the subject and said he wanted to make movies.

But Anton was his only grandson, after all. Jameson could only grit his teeth and approve of Anton's desire to develop his career. Having ambition was always a good thing.

Unexpectedly, Anton seemed like a different person from that day onward.

The biggest change in Jameson's impression of Anton had not actually come from Anton's progress in business, but from what had happened just before.

The instant he learned that John Wick had been easily subdued by Anton, he realized that the child's wings had grown strong enough for him to fly alone. There was not much protection Jameson could offer him anymore.

Jameson's gaze grew distant.

He checked the time. It was 10:28 p.m.

Anton had said he would call after midnight and have the New York Police Department clean up the aftermath.

Including travel time, even at the fastest pace, Anton only had about an hour.

"Let me see just how far you can go, Anton."

Jameson was filled with anticipation.

Anton's certainty made him deeply curious.

Although grandfather and grandson had not exchanged many words, they both understood what the other meant.

Just wait and enjoy the show.

I'm waiting.

To prevent people from directly connecting him to Batman, Anton had been moving through remote areas ever since leaving home.

His goal was to avoid surveillance cameras. He did not want to leave any direct evidence that he was Batman.

Eventually, Anton arrived at an abandoned industrial district.

From there, he entered the sewers.

Here, he summoned the Batcycle from the "Vehicles" section and entered Batman mode. Batman's basic armor appeared over his body.

He lay flat against the Batcycle, started it, and twisted the throttle to the limit.

Vroom!

A low, turbine-like roar, far from explosive, echoed through the tunnel.

Whoosh!

The Batcycle shot out from another sewer exit.

He estimated the time. There was still about an hour and ten minutes until midnight.

From here to Manhattan, the Batcycle would take twenty minutes.

That left him fifty minutes to deal with the Continental Hotel!

"More than enough!"

Anton's face beneath the helmet was full of swagger.

Batman's power gave him immense confidence.

Although the power of Batman's basic armor could not immediately put him above the astonishingly powerful opponents in the Marvel universe, he was already unmatched against the Continental Hotel, which had unified New York's underground assassin world.

No matter how formidable the people in the Continental Hotel were, they were still ordinary humans.

If Anton could not crush ordinary humans with unstoppable force, then the problem would lie with Anton, not Batman.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Anton rode the Batcycle through the streets like lightning.

No one could stop him along the way.

Even on congested roads, he could launch himself over car roofs like a motorcycle stuntman, soaring into the air and leaping dozens of meters.

Without the slightest restraint.

Utterly lawless.

Brazen beyond measure.

Although he upheld a no-killing rule, New York was not Gotham City. Anton had no need to hide Batman's existence too carefully.

Compared to Iron Man later battling Obadiah outside Stark Industries, with two steel monsters pummeling each other; Hulk fighting Abomination, a green and yellow pair of musclemen wrestling; or even the Avengers fighting the Chitauri aliens and destroying half of New York...

What did Batman riding a motorcycle on the road amount to?

Small stuff!

This was destined to become a world where superheroes filled the skies. Batman did not need to remain a secret whispered among the public. He could be displayed openly and proudly.

That also fit Anton's plan of "harvesting fan points."

The only thing he needed to watch out for was keeping the fact that he was Batman hidden, which would save him a great deal of trouble.

At the very least, not revealing himself to the public would eliminate a whole pile of problems.

What?

You said that as Batman's director, how could no one connect him to Batman?

He just had to deny it!

Didn't young people all enjoy cosplay?

Couldn't it be a Halloween rehearsal?

As long as I don't admit it, I'm not Batman!

Wasn't that perfectly reasonable?

"Whoa—"

Some people on the road saw Anton's appearance and were utterly stunned.

"What is that?"

"That's so cool! Is he cosplaying?"

"What character is he portraying? He looks amazing! I'm dressing like that for Halloween too. I don't care how much it costs, I'm getting a set!"

"It's Batman! That movie that came out recently—wasn't it supposedly Tony Stark's final work?"

"I'm going to watch it right away!"

Everyone who saw this scene had their eyes light up.

Regardless of age or gender, without exception, they were all drawn to Anton as he was now.

It was clear that Batman's appeal to ordinary people transcended gender and age.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Honk! Honk! Honk!

Car horns blared nonstop along the road.

The owners of the vehicles whose roofs had been run over by the Batcycle were especially unhappy.

Some called the police directly.

Others stared at the Batcycle's huge wide tires and the figure practically lying atop the bike, screaming in their hearts.

"I'm going home to learn motorcycle stunts!"

"Master, don't leave! Teach me how to ride a motorcycle!!"

"How much does that bike cost?"

"Buy it! Buy it! Buy it!"

In that arrogant, overbearing fashion, Anton quickly tore into Manhattan.

Manhattan was New York's most densely populated and economically developed district.

Prosperity was everywhere.

Police patrolled here day and night, at a density beyond the imagination of people from the slums.

Within minutes of Anton entering Manhattan, he was spotted by patrolling officers. Not to mention, people had been constantly calling the police because of Anton's outrageous behavior.

Speeding!

Deliberately damaging other people's vehicles!

The patrolling officers instinctively wanted to give chase at once, but they suddenly received an order through their communicators.

Do not pursue!

After midnight, all officers in the Manhattan precinct were to gather outside the Continental Hotel.

That would be the time to make arrests.

The officers were utterly confused.

But rank-and-file tools did not need to understand the deals made by those above them.

Following orders was how they survived.

They all acknowledged the command.

After Anton entered the area near the Continental Hotel,

quite a few roadside shops sensed that something was wrong. They stopped doing business, pulled pistols from beneath their counters, and watched the approaching figure in a combat-ready stance.

Even the pedestrians were experienced enough to hide in corners, warily watching the shadow speeding past.

Then, beneath their terrified gazes, this man in strange armor rode his dazzling motorcycle down the street and charged straight into the Continental Hotel.

"This..."

Someone stood there, dumbfounded. "Is he going there to die?"

"Close up."

The person beside him looked grave. "This has nothing to do with us. No matter how the Continental Hotel responds, we'd better not get dragged into it."

"You're right."

The man nodded, regret written across his face. "What a waste of that motorcycle."

"And that outfit! The armor looked pretty cool!"

The person beside him suddenly recalled something. "Come to think of it, haven't we seen that look somewhere before?"

The two exchanged a glance, but neither could remember.