First Clash: Chaos vs. Order!

Gotham Central Station had long been abandoned.

Cold rain dripped through holes in the vaulted ceiling, sending ripples across the flooded platform.

The air smelled of rust and rotting wood. The only light came from the Bat-Signal piercing the storm clouds on the distant horizon.

Mayor Hill hung by a rope in the middle of the station hall, three meters above the floor, swaying like a fat pig waiting to be slaughtered.

A rag stuffed his mouth. Tears and snot smeared his face, and a large wet patch on his trousers gave off the sharp smell of urine.

Harley Quinn sat on a suitcase, swinging her legs and chewing bubble gum. Now and then, she looked up at the miserable mayor and let out a bell-like laugh.

Link stood in the platform's shadows with his back to the Bat-Signal, as though admiring the ruined beauty of the abandoned station.

He was waiting.

Waiting for Gotham's most famous—and loneliest—Bat.

The seconds ticked by.

Apart from the patter of rain, the station was deathly quiet.

Suddenly, Harley's laughter stopped.

She sprang up from the suitcase, gripped her Baseball Bat, and stared into the darkness behind Link.

"He's here."

Link did not turn around. He spoke calmly.

The darkness seemed to come alive.

A figure slowly emerged from a darkness deeper than the shadows around it.

He was tall and broad, like a silent mountain.

Rain ran in thin streams down his black armor. His pointed ears resembled a demon's horns, and the huge Bat emblem on his chest radiated a wordless menace in the dim light.

Batman.

He had made no sound. He had simply appeared, as if he had been standing there all along.

"Release the mayor."

His voice seemed to rise from the depths of Hell, hoarse and low, without a trace of emotion.

The force of his presence left Harley struggling to breathe. She took an instinctive half step back.

Link smiled.

At last, he turned to meet Batman's gaze.

What kind of gaze was it?

Appraising. Warning. Focused with all the intensity of a predator fixing on its prey.

"Harley." Link did not even look at Batman. He merely waved a hand. "Let our guest down. His party's over."

"Huh?" Harley froze.

"Do it."

"Fine."

Harley pouted, walked to a pillar, and cut the rope.

Thud!

The mayor hit the floor like a sack of potatoes and let out a muffled groan of pain.

He scrambled to his feet and fled toward the station exit, stumbling as he went, without daring to look back.

This time, Batman was the one caught off guard.

He had imagined countless possibilities.

They might use the mayor to threaten him, make all manner of insane demands, or set a trap.

But he had never expected them to give up their only bargaining chip so easily.

In that moment, he understood.

The mayor was not a hostage.

The mayor was only... an invitation.

And this party had been arranged for Batman alone.

"Who are you?" A new gravity entered Batman's voice.

"A newcomer who wanted to say hello to Gotham's king." Link smiled and rolled his wrists.

The moment he finished speaking, Batman moved.

Without warning.

Like a black cannonball, he crossed more than ten meters in an instant and drove a straight punch with crushing force toward Link's face!

Fast! Far too fast!

The punch tore through the air with a shriek. It could have blasted a gaping hole in a wall!

But to Link, the world seemed to slow.

Chaos Force, activate!

The instant Batman threw his punch, an invisible psychic wave settled over him.

For a split second, a distortion slipped into his perception, too subtle for even him to notice.

He "saw" Link dodge left.

In reality, Link had only tilted his head slightly.

The fist grazed past his cheek and smashed a massive dent into the wall behind him.

His first strike missed, but Batman did not pause. His attacks came like a storm: elbows, knees, sweeping kicks, one move flowing relentlessly into the next.

Every blow perfectly combined strength and technique, cutting off every route of escape Link had.

This was how Batman fought.

Orderly, precise, efficient.

He used the most direct, overwhelming force to crush his enemies.

But he was facing Link.

The embodiment of chaos.

Link's footwork turned strange and unpredictable.

He looked less like a fighter than a man dancing a mad dance.

He slipped past Batman's deadly attacks by a hair's breadth, twisting his body into impossible angles. One moment he was a boneless snake; the next, a leaf caught in a gale.

Every dodge carried him into a blind spot in Batman's attack.

Every counterstrike came from a direction Batman least expected.

A jab with one finger. A thrust of an elbow. A flick of his foot.

The attacks seemed to follow no pattern, yet each one broke Batman's rhythm as he gathered force, leaving him unable to find his footing.

Bang!

At last, their fists met head-on.

The impact drove Link back several steps, his arm tingling with numbness.

Batman also retreated half a step. He looked at his gauntlet, his brow furrowed.

To his shock, the man's fighting technique was a fearsome mix of styles.

It held the viciousness of a street brawl, the economy of military combat, and even tricky moves from ancient schools he had never encountered.

These wildly different techniques had been fused together perfectly, in a way that was chaotic yet harmonious.

Worst of all, his opponent seemed able to... anticipate what Batman anticipated.

It felt like fighting a madman who could read minds.

A worthy opponent!

A fiercer fighting spirit than ever before flared in Batman's eyes.

Link shook out his numb arm, and his smile grew more excited.

He knew the real fight had only just begun.