The Rude Batman

"Kamaitachi... I can use it even though I'm not a Mixed-Blood?" Roland absorbed the knowledge flooding into his mind and instinctively recited a passage in the dragon language.

Then he expanded his domain and commanded the wind within it. As though enslaved by him, it gathered every sound and delivered them to his ears.

The modest domain enveloped the church, and every last sound entered his mind. The abandoned church, usually deserted, suddenly seemed to come alive.

"So this is Kamaitachi. Ngh..." The tide of sound made Roland dizzy. He hurriedly withdrew his Word Spirit and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "It takes a fair bit out of me. Like going for a run."

After catching his breath, Roland tried to get used to the sensation. Before long, he could distinguish the information the wind brought him.

"This is a table, and this is a chair..." Roland closed his eyes and felt his way around using the sounds Kamaitachi brought back. His hearing could not yet replace his sight, but with the help of his memory, he could make out his surroundings well enough. "And this should be the statue of Jesus..."

Roland's eyes flew open. "...Where's my statue of Jesus?"

There were marks where a blade had pried at the spot where the statue had hung. Someone had clearly taken it.

"It was that kid. No wonder I got so much Goodwill Value... What kind of decent person visits a church and walks off with its statue?" Roland's face darkened, and he hurried outside.

He already knew what people around here were like, but stealing from a church?

The moment he stepped out, Roland heard a commotion nearby. That was hardly normal in such a remote place, and he grew wary.

Word Spirit: Kamaitachi. Domain Expansion!

The Kamaitachi danced through the air, carrying the surrounding sounds to Roland's ears.

"In this direction lives a Hatter;"

"In that direction lives a March Hare."

"Visit whichever you like. They're both mad."

"But I don't want to go among mad people."

"We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

"What the hell is all this? Did they come out here to rehearse lines?" All Roland heard were people reciting dialogue. "What production has such great taste that it rehearses in the middle of nowhere?"

From the sound of it, one of them was the boy who had just eaten at the church. Not only had the kid failed to run away, he had joined the actors. Roland flexed his fingers and headed toward the voices.

"You see, a dog growls when it's angry and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad." Jason wore a furry costume and a strange hat as he recited his lines.

"There you are, you little punk." Roland cracked his knuckles. "And now you're hiding among the actors? Whose prop did you steal?"

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" A dwarf in a green suit hopped in front of Roland. He wore a peculiar hat of his own and held a script, with several crew members following behind him. He looked like the one in charge.

"You're the director here, right? This kid stole something from me. He's pretending to be an actor to get away with it," Roland explained.

"He's not pretending to be an actor. He's the Cheshire Cat!" the dwarf retorted. His odd, lilting delivery sounded like he was reciting lines. "And you need a haircut."

"Him? Playing the Cheshire Cat?" Roland pointed at Jason, stunned. "Are your casting standards really that low? I could do better than him."

"You say you're the Cheshire Cat? That's as impossible as a sewing machine kissing a toad."

"You don't believe me?" Roland rolled up his sleeves. "I've got to be better than this kid."

"Then prove it." Disbelief was written all over the dwarf's face.

"I'm Cheshire, a Royal Navy heavy cruiser! But until I met you, darling, I was only a ship that existed in the imagination. That means this body of mine belongs entirely to you, darling!"

"What the fuck kind of Cheshire is that?"

"What's wrong with..." Roland broke off as he heard sirens, apparently heading their way.

"The Red Queen's lackeys. Those tiresome cards..." The dwarf director's expression changed. He barked orders at the crowd, cursing all the while. His crew and actors pulled out guns and found cover.

Roland swallowed. He might have been slow on the uptake, but even he could tell something was wrong. Frowning, he put the others between himself and the approaching danger.

A police car soon came into view. Roland watched in horror as it was riddled with bullets.

"Gotham City really does have... such friendly locals." Huddled in a corner, Roland watched a group dressed like over-the-top school-play actors trade gunfire with armed police. It felt like a dream.

As the fight dragged on, the well-trained police gained the upper hand. Seeing this, the dwarf got into his car to leave.

Several of his men followed, Jason among them. The rest kept the police busy. They could barely fight, but their determination was fierce.

"Come here, you!" Roland quietly stuck a foot out of the shadows and tripped Jason. He clamped a hand over the boy's mouth and dragged him into the darkness.

"Mmph, mmph..." Jason struggled.

"Hold still." Roland struck the back of Jason's head with the edge of his hand, knocking him unconscious. Then he slung the boy over his shoulder and carried him away.

Not long after Roland left, a dark figure descended on the next block over from the shootout and took down the fleeing actors one by one.

"Mad Hatter." A cold voice sounded beside the dwarf's ear. A broad bat-shaped cape blocked the light behind him as a powerful arm hauled him up. "I have questions for you."

After a session of the Great Memory Restoration Technique, Batman got the answers he wanted from the raving Mad Hatter and handed him over to the police.

"Batman, we've found most of the people Mad Hatter hypnotized," Commissioner Gordon told him in a dark corner. "Only one boy is still missing."

Batman slipped away without a word. The detective soon found some unusual traces at the scene of the shootout.

"Could you at least tell me before you leave?" Commissioner Gordon hurried after him, protesting the rude behavior. "Well? Did you find anything?"

"A clergyman took him." Batman picked something up from the ground. "The boy was ambushed here, knocked unconscious, and carried away."

"That's bad." Commissioner Gordon's stomach sank. A clergyman taking a little boy—did anyone need to ask what might happen next? His department would probably be facing an investigation.

"...Could you at least tell me before you leave?" Commissioner Gordon complained to Batman's retreating back.