Something Fell from the Sky

Falcone's old residence had once been a nobleman's castle in the eighteenth century. The old man had acquired the mansion through less-than-honorable means, but everyone tacitly assumed he had bought it with money.

Beside the castle's front hall stood a modern poured-concrete structure that did not fit with the surrounding architecture. Dense cables ran into it from every direction, and monitors of all sizes hung on its walls. Several headset-wearing people inside watched the marked locations throughout the estate on the screens, constantly switching viewpoints and communicating with guards stationed everywhere.

Until yesterday, Falcone's home had not had this little building.

How could the mighty Lord Falcone possibly come to harm in his own home?

Even when Batman had first arrived in Gotham two years ago and tied Falcone, dressed only in his underwear, to his bed in the middle of the night—making him a complete laughingstock—Falcone had never considered renovating his old residence.

He knew that Batman seemed insane, yet had always tried every possible way to restrain himself.

That Batman did not like chaos.

And, conveniently, the one thing Falcone could guarantee was this: if he died, Gotham would inevitably descend into chaos for a time.

A chaotic order was still an order.

Batman understood that, and Falcone understood it even better.

That was why, despite Batman always wanting to take Falcone out, he had never found a good opportunity over the past two years.

Gotham's situation was far too complicated. The endless stream of criminals, along with organized and premeditated incursions by forces from other cities, had tied up Batman's attention and forced him to leave Falcone alive to stabilize Gotham's underworld.

Batman was someone who could be reasoned with. As long as you were willing to follow his arrangements and willingly become a passive "tool."

Someone had to take a step back. Why couldn't it be Falcone?

But things were different now.

Batman had been tied up by something, and had mysteriously disappeared for several days.

At present, Gotham City was ruled by a madman.

He killed whenever he wanted, regardless of who the target was, the timing, or the web of relationships involved...

That person seemed isolated from all of Gotham. No one could establish any connection to him, no network of influence could restrain him, no favors could be exchanged, and no powerful figure could mediate on his behalf.

Falcone felt that all his efforts these past few days had been futile. This madman was like someone who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, drifting down from the upper reaches of a river or growing straight out of the ground.

There was no room for compromise, nor was there any perfectly balanced point of coexistence.

Falcone knew which direction this would turn.

"...It was nothing more than a fight to the death."

"Lord Falcone, Uronov is calling."

"Don't put him through. Tell him I'll go see him personally tomorrow."

"Yes."

His subordinate politely withdrew and shut the wooden door.

"...If I still have a tomorrow..."

Falcone spoke quietly in the study.

"Can't you get that thing out yourself?"

"Meow~"

Lynn really wanted Schrodinger to summon a demon from Hell to lend a hand. That Hellfire creature made entirely of stone from before had been pretty good.

Though Deadshot had ultimately shattered its head with a bullet, which was rather embarrassing, and it had made Lynn vomit all over his helmet. Still, its combat strength had indeed been impressive, and it had drawn a great deal of fire.

In a siege battle like today's, where they were outnumbered, that thing would definitely be more useful.

This time, they were fighting on someone else's turf. Lynn did not care much whether the house burned down or not.

As long as that thing created enough chaos, on such a dark and windy night, wouldn't Lynn be free to do whatever he wanted?

The plan was good, but there was one small problem.

Kitty said it could not voluntarily shut itself inside a box.

This really was an active skill, but Kitty had only been born for a little over a week. It was a special individual that had skipped both the juvenile and growth stages and appeared directly in its Champion stage. For now, this active skill could only be released passively.

"I see..."

Lynn held Kitty and stroked the fur on the back of its neck.

"Sorry."

"Meow?"

Its paws dangled in the air as Lynn lifted it by the scruff of its neck. With his arm fully extended, he swung it outside the balloon.

"I'll miss you. In the next life, we'll still—holy shit, why are you scratching me? Off you go!"

"Meow—! You won't come to a good end!"

Kitty refused to play along with Lynn, especially in a scene where it was being used as a prop. It turned and swiped a claw at him, and Lynn gave it a powerful kick, sending it flying into Falcone's estate.

It definitely would not die, anyway.

"Now, all I have to do is wait."

Tightening his collar, Lynn reached beneath his stomach... into Doraemon's Pocket, and pulled out a roast duck.

"Oh? It's still hot! Time to eat."

A box falling from the sky and flying into the bushes naturally caused a huge stir among the tense guards in Falcone's estate.

Three people immediately leaped out of the bushes. They were all hidden lookouts, and they were scared out of their wits.

Someone first shouted, "Bomb!" Everyone turned and dropped to the ground. Five or six seconds passed without anything happening, and they looked at one another before getting back up.

"You go take a look."

"Why don't you go?"

"Then Joey can go take a look."

"Does my face say I'm easy to bully?"

In the end, the squad leader spoke. One unlucky man, his lips constantly moving, lowered his head and headed toward the dark bushes.

"Don't be nervous. It's probably just a box. Maybe some new method of delivering messages or something."

The squad leader was still reassuring his teammates when the scout failed to return for a long time.

Under the beams of several powerful flashlights, the bushes trembled slightly. Faint crunching sounds seemed to drift out.

Something was wrong!

"Prepare for combat!"

The squad leader shouted and immediately, wisely, passed the warning along.

At the same time, the branches stopped shaking.

The next second, a piercing shriek rang out. Countless little monsters resembling rotten rats with insect wings crawled rapidly from the bushes like a tide.

Among them was an old monkey about a meter tall, with deformed arms, sharp fangs and claws, and a mouth full of blood.

"Open—fire!!"

The muzzles had begun spitting flames before the squad leader even finished shouting.

They were all experts in their line of work, each with several lives on their hands. But no matter how experienced or worldly they were, they had never seen anything like this!

Dazzling flashes erupted from one corner of the estate, and Lynn, sitting atop the balloon and eating roast duck, saw it all clearly.

"All right, my turn."

Tossing aside the roast duck, Lynn descended from another direction and headed straight for the main house.

Meanwhile, someone who had just emerged from the bathroom and was wiping the water from his face stared expressionlessly at the object that had fallen onto the ground before him.

"Roast duck... fell from the sky?!"

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