Return to Arkham

"Everyone, feel free to ask whatever you want."

Miao Mu spread his arms generously, a friendly smile on his face, instantly earning the reporters' goodwill. A clueless rookie like this would definitely let plenty slip.

Most police officers showed undisguised disgust whenever they saw reporters, wishing they would drop dead on the spot.

Miao Mu was surrounded so tightly that not even water could pass through. Questions flew from every direction, many of them extremely sensitive.

Up on the second floor, Commissioner Loeb held a wineglass. The genial smile on his face had vanished, leaving only deep contempt and disdain.

People from the slums were always this pathetic. Give them the slightest bit of kindness, and they got carried away.

He was not worried about those reporters at all. Tomorrow's headlines had already been decided. As for Miao Mu...

He still needed some tempering. Young people were far too arrogant.

The next day, a crowd of protesters holding signs had gathered outside City Hall early in the morning.

"We don't need Batman!"

The crowd was filled with chanting voices. Their signs bore Batman's symbol, crossed out in red.

"We don't need masked vigilantes! He's just a criminal abusing vigilante justice! A criminal!" Hoarse cries rang through the crowd.

A Gotham TV reporter held a microphone as she interviewed a man leaning on crutches and holding a protest sign.

"May I ask..."

"Batman! It was all Batman! He broke my leg! He just dropped down from the sky and broke my leg!"

The man's hair hung loose around his face as he screamed himself hoarse. He stood unsteadily on his crutches, his right leg encased in a thick layer of white plaster that made movement difficult.

"He's a criminal, a villain! We don't need protection from a bastard like that! Kill it! Kill it!"

Within the crowd of protesters, someone had glued a squeaking live bat to a sign. Another person yanked it down and slammed it hard onto the ground. More than a dozen feet came stomping down.

The bat was crushed into a smear of dark red pulp.

"Batman smashed my face and broke my fingers! He's a madman! A complete and utter madman!"

The news footage playing on the television was turned off.

Bruce Wayne, out of his Batman gear, casually tossed aside the remote. It was rare for him to be up this early; normally, he would still be asleep in bed at this hour.

Last night, he had caught several of the Roman's men. Though he had dumped them outside the police station, they would be released within days due to one illness or another.

So he had broken their arms.

"Why turn off the TV? I was rather looking forward to today's news." Alfred approached carrying a breakfast tray.

"Would you like a glass of milk? It was just delivered from a farm in Bristol Town, along with fresh goat cheese."

Bruce sat on the sofa in pajamas, utterly unconcerned with appearances. "I need equipment with better bullet resistance."

"I see. After your meeting at Wayne Enterprises, you can visit Mr. Lucius. I believe he can solve that problem. But what excuse will you use this time?"

"Uh... target shooting in the wilderness?"

"Wonderful."

Alfred came over with a glass of milk and handed it to Bruce. "But you've been keeping such a low profile at home that Gotham is about to forget you. A wealthy playboy should not be so quiet."

Bruce took a sip of milk and turned to ask helplessly, "Then what should I do?"

Alfred cleared the dishes and made Bruce a simple sandwich, then said seriously:

"You should go out and show your face, or find a few friends to drink away the fine wine generations have left in the cellar. Or perhaps find a few pretty girls to go out with. That Aston Martin is already fueled up."

"Give me a break..."

Bruce drained his milk, set down the glass, and got up to change. Alfred followed behind, picked up the remote Bruce had thrown away, and turned on the TV to check the news.

"Master, the Gotham Police Department is issuing a restriction order against the giant bat flying in the sky."

"What?"

Bruce emerged wearing a shirt and looked at the news report on TV. Police Commissioner Gillian Loeb had just finished making a statement.

Masked vigilantes roaming Gotham would be arrested as criminals. To protect the safety of citizens, the Gotham Police Department would deploy two airships to patrol and safeguard the city.

"I arranged a date for you with a female reporter who attended last night's police banquet, Miss Jiekaxi Ruxiu. She's the most beautiful reporter at the Gotham Gazette," Alfred took the opportunity to say.

"...Fine." Bruce nodded.

"The French restaurant and opera house have already been arranged. It won't take too much of your time. After your meeting, you'll still have time for a cup of coffee."

"No need to make such a fuss." Bruce buttoned his shirt, his gaze falling on the protest crowd that flashed briefly across the screen.

With only a glance, his photographic memory had already identified more than a dozen street punks he had defeated.

In the logistics warehouse of the Arkham Police Department, Miao Mu watched the noon news on TV and yawned boredly.

After last night's banquet ended, they had driven back. Naturally, his transfer into the Gotham Police Department had fallen through.

The most promising rising star in law enforcement, the hero who solved a case in seven hours, had returned to the Arkham District police precinct.

It also made the people at the Arkham Police Department secretly mock Miao Mu. He had clearly had a chance to leave this garbage dump and rise to the heavens, yet he had ruined it with his own hands.

It was just like the old saying: fools could never hold on to wealth that fell into their laps, nor could they seize opportunities to change their fate.

But Miao Mu did not care about any of that. Instead, this incident had brought quite a few people closer to him.

Compared to a brother driving sports cars and living in a villa, a fool living together in a rundown house was much easier on the eyes.

"Yo, Detective Miao Mu. Working hard!"

Two officers heading out after receiving a report hurriedly greeted Miao Mu with smiles when they saw him.

Miao Mu nodded as well. "Be careful on the road!"

"Yes, Detective Miao Mu!"

The two officers saluted with straight faces, wearing smiles that might or might not have been schadenfreude, then ran out.

Miao Mu slumped over the desk and continued playing dead. The old television could only receive one channel, and the screen was full of crackling static.

In the parking lot outside the station, an imposing Urban Hummer H2 drove in, towing an old Ford sedan behind it.

The sedan was packed with cargo boxes, as though someone were moving house.

Jerry stepped out wearing a jacket and sunglasses, looking like a tough guy who had walked out of a movie.

Riddler Nigma climbed out as well, holding a cardboard box in his arms. Looking at the Arkham Police Department, he let out a long breath.

"Whoa, you're really moving here?"

Miao Mu pushed open the window and looked outside. Two sofas sat on top of the Ford sedan, while all sorts of bags and packages were stacked shakily on its roof. It was a wonder they had managed to tow the car back.

"I calculated it carefully. Arkham District isn't as bad as I imagined, and the rent is much cheaper. My lease was up anyway, so I might as well move here directly."

Holding the box, Nigma walked toward the logistics warehouse. His position had also been transferred from the Gotham Police Department. Given his strange temperament, plenty of people there had been hoping he would get lost.

The normally sluggish bureaucracy had given him the green light all the way through. His transfer was completed in an hour, and he was dispatched to Arkham District.

There was a reason everyone hated this place.