Commissioner Gordon and His Crazy Bodyguards

Gotham City Police Department (GCPD) headquarters, top floor.

Commissioner James Gordon and the last SWAT team still capable of fighting were pinned behind cover. At the other end of the corridor, the supervillain Firefly, Garfield Lynns, wore his ridiculous flight gear as he brazenly turned the entire floor into a sea of flames with his massive flamethrower.

Boom—!

The scorching dragon of fire licked across the SWAT officers' riot shields, heating them red-hot. The air was thick with a pungent burnt smell, and the temperature was so high that every breath felt as though it were setting their lungs on fire.

"Commissioner! We can't hold them! We're almost out of ammunition!" a young officer shouted desperately.

Gordon gritted his teeth. His graying beard was covered in soot, and his eyes were full of exhaustion and unwillingness. He looked at the revolver in his hand, which had only three bullets left, and a deep sense of helplessness welled up inside him. After Batman fell, the city had completely lost its last protector.

Just as he was preparing to lead his men in one final suicidal charge, a lively, bizarre shriek that was utterly out of place in this desperate scene suddenly came from the ceiling vent!

"Yaha—! Puddin' ain't home, so Mama's in charge now!"

Bang!

The metal grille in the ceiling was kicked open, and a figure in red-and-blue hot pants, a torn T-shirt, and twin pigtails dropped from above like an agile gymnast! She swung an enormous baseball bat printed with the words "Good Night," tracing a graceful arc through the air before striking Firefly's fuel tank with impossible precision from an absurd angle!

Clang—!!

A crisp metallic impact rang out.

Harley Quinn performed a beautiful backflip and landed steadily on the ground, then gave Gordon and the stunned SWAT officers a playful wink.

"Don't worry, Beard Uncle! Your takeout's here! Your new bodyguard—yours truly—has made her dazzling entrance! Batman paid a pretty penny to make sure you stay alive and kicking!"

Firefly was left dazed by the sudden blow. Just as he tried to turn his flamethrower around, he felt something tighten around his feet.

Rustle, rustle!

Countless thick, thorn-covered vines burst from the concrete floor like living creatures, instantly binding Firefly and his equally dumbfounded henchmen into sturdy "green dumplings" and hanging them in midair.

Poison Ivy, Pamela, walked out of the shadows at the other end of the hallway with an extremely displeased expression. She glanced around at the walls blackened by flames and the charred corpses, then frowned in disgust.

"Make it quick, Harley. I hate the air here. It reeks of the burnt protein of stupid humans."

Gordon and his men were all dumbstruck.

They stared at the mad pair before them—a former Joker girl and an eco-terrorist—and felt their worldview being repeatedly crushed and completely shattered in the span of a single minute.

Gordon instinctively drew his gun and aimed it at Harley.

Harley did not care in the slightest. She skipped over to Gordon, then shoved a printed contract, still carrying the scent of perfume, right into his face.

"Look closely, Beard Uncle! We're allies now! It's all in black and white, no cheating anyone!" She pointed to the signature section of the contract. "See that? Batman's authorization signature! He said you'd better cooperate with us and clean house! Send all those disobedient bad guys back to Arkham!"

Gordon accepted the contract with suspicion. When he saw the astronomical payment amount on it, along with the unmistakably clear official seal at the bottom of the page representing Wayne Enterprises' highest legal authority, he fell into a long silence.

He remembered what the mysterious Batman, whose presence had changed drastically, had told him over an encrypted line a few days earlier: "Gordon, the nature of war has changed. Accept what you cannot understand, and use what you can use."

In the end, he let out a long sigh, feeling as if he had aged ten years in an instant. Helplessly, he waved to the subordinates behind him, who were still completely bewildered.

"Everyone... lower your weapons... cooperate... with their operation."

And so, beneath Gotham City's night sky, the strangest and most surreal scene in history unfolded:

GCPD patrol cars formed a defensive line at the front, exchanging conventional gunfire with the criminals. On their flanks and behind them, a crazed former Joker girl swung her bat, smashing enemies apart like a tiger charging into a flock of sheep. Meanwhile, another plant goddess whose face practically said "Don't mess with me" merely waved a hand, and the earth split open as countless vines and man-eating flowers sprang from the ground, providing the police with the most "eco-friendly" and "natural" supernatural fire support.

With a cigar clenched between his teeth, Gordon watched the surreal battlefield and felt as though he was not fighting a war, but watching an absurd stage play.