A Temporary Hideout and the First Clash with Harley!

The speedboat's engine died beside an abandoned industrial dock in Gotham's East End, giving one last reluctant groan.

The stench of dead fish and the chemical reek of industrial wastewater hung in the air. Far away, the main city glittered with neon lights, a world apart.

Link tied the speedboat's rope to a rusty iron post and jumped ashore first.

Harley followed, but the moment her feet touched solid ground, she stumbled and nearly fell.

The adrenaline from her escape from Arkham had faded, leaving bone-deep exhaustion and bitter cold in its place.

Her wet hospital gown clung to her body. When the sea wind blew, her lips turned purple and she shivered uncontrollably.

"Where... do we go now?" A trace of uncertainty crept into Harley's voice.

She looked around. This was Gotham's most chaotic, lawless fringe. For a penniless fugitive fresh out of captivity, it was every bit as dangerous as Arkham.

Link did not answer.

He was soaked too, but he stood as straight as a spear. His dark eyes calmly scanned their surroundings, like a lone wolf entering unfamiliar territory.

"This way. I know a place."

Harley had spent years on Gotham's streets. After getting her bearings, she led Link into a pitch-black alley.

They wound through the maze of alleys for more than ten minutes before Harley stopped in front of an enormous cannery warehouse that looked as though it had been abandoned for decades.

"This used to be Maloney Family territory. Then Falcone swallowed them up, and the place was left to rot. Nobody comes here." Harley found a crowbar beneath a pile of trash and pried open the warehouse's heavy side door in a few practiced moves.

Creeeak—

The harsh scrape of metal rang out, and a musty smell mixed with rust and dust rushed toward them.

The warehouse was vast and empty. A few pale shafts of moonlight fell through broken skylights, barely illuminating piles of discarded crates and rusted machinery.

At least they had shelter from the wind and rain.

Harley gathered some dry old newspapers and planks and built a fire.

The orange glow drove off a little of the cold and lit their equally pale faces.

They sat around the fire without speaking. For a while, the silence was awkward.

Only the crackle of burning wood echoed through the cavernous warehouse.

Link had remained unnaturally calm from the start. His eyes were closed, as though he were resting—or thinking.

Harley could not settle down.

She looked at the man before her and thought back to their first meeting in Arkham, to his words about a "king and queen" that had cut her to the heart, to his rescue in the middle of the riot, and finally to that near-perfect escape plan.

It all felt like an unreal dream.

This man was too mysterious. Too dangerous.

She did not know who he was, why he had chosen her of all people, or what he intended to use her for.

Being kept in the dark left her deeply uneasy.

She shifted slightly and tightened her grip on the half-meter length of rusty iron pipe she had hidden behind her back.

"Who are you, really?"

Harley's voice broke the silence, wary and searching.

Link slowly opened his eyes. Firelight danced in them, but betrayed no emotion.

"Why did you get me out? You want to use me against Puddin', don't you?" Harley nearly shouted the words. She sprang to her feet, pointed the pipe at Link, and took an aggressive stance.

It was a test, and a way to protect herself.

Link watched her without the slightest hint of surprise.

He did not even stand. He simply looked into Harley's eyes, so full of madness, unease, and stubborn defiance.

"Use you against Joker?" Link shook his head slightly, a mocking curve to his lips. "No. You've got one thing wrong."

"In my plans, he isn't... important enough."

Harley froze.

She had imagined countless answers: a smooth lie, perhaps, or a cold threat. She had never expected something so casual and so outrageously arrogant.

Joker, Gotham's prince of crime, the nightmare who gave even Batman headaches...

To this man, he was not even worthy of being an opponent?

"Then what do you want?" Harley's voice faltered despite herself.

Link finally rose. Standing, he radiated an invisible pressure even stronger than before.

"I want all of Gotham."

He stepped forward and looked Harley straight in the eye, enunciating every word. "I'm going to reshuffle every power in this city's underworld. I'm going to build a new order on the bones of Penguin, Two-Face, and Falcone. Gotham will have only one voice. One king."

"And that king will be me."

Harley was stunned.

She had met madmen. She was one herself. She had met people with grand ambitions, too: Joker wanted to turn the entire world into one enormous joke.

But she had never met anyone like Link.

His eyes held none of Joker's pure madness, none of Penguin's greedy hunger.

What she saw was absolute, rational calm—the calm of someone who regarded all of Gotham City as a chessboard.

It was as if he were describing not an insane ambition, but a fact that would inevitably come to pass.

"Why... me?" Harley's hand trembled around the pipe.

"Because you're useful." Link's honesty bordered on cruelty. "You know Gotham. You know every criminal here. Chaos runs in your blood. And you're smart. You've just let a ridiculous love story blind you."

"More importantly"—Link reached out and lightly tapped the pipe in Harley's hand—"I need a partner, not a sidekick who does nothing but giggle."

Clang.

The pipe slipped from Harley's grasp and hit the floor.

She stared at her hands in shock. For one instant, the pipe had felt as heavy as a mountain.

"What... what did you do?"

"I only showed you the gap between us." Link withdrew his hand. The Chaos Force flowed calmly through his mind. "Now let's discuss the terms of our partnership."

Harley stood rooted to the spot, cold sweat sliding down her forehead.

At last, she understood.

The man before her possessed a power beyond reason, one she could not begin to comprehend.

His honesty was not foolishness. It came from absolute confidence.

He did not care if she knew his ambitions because, as far as he was concerned, she had no way to resist.

Suddenly Harley laughed, her whole body shaking with a touch of hysteria.

She picked up the pipe, but this time she did not point it at Link. She rested it on her shoulder.

"All right, Your Majesty." She gave Link a comical curtsy. "Until you find a new queen, I'm willing to be your partner for now."

"But let's get one thing straight." Her smile vanished, and her gaze sharpened. "I can leave whenever I want. This is just a deal, right?"

"Of course." Link nodded. "A fair deal."

And there, in the abandoned warehouse, beside the crackling fire, a fragile yet sturdy alliance was quietly sealed with words alone.