I Thought It Was a Speed Bump

Roland stood on high ground, watching the situation unfold around him, when he heard footsteps approaching.

Two minutes later, a middle-aged man emerged in a well-tailored suit, white shirt, white gloves, and a bow tie. He carried a cello case on his back and looked like a musician.

The man froze when he saw Roland, then went straight for the pistol at his waist, ready to try a quick draw.

Before he could fire, Roland's fist slammed into his stomach. The force drove deep, draining the strength from his body and sending him into a violent fit of vomiting.

"Not bad. You stayed conscious after that?" Roland said in surprise. He reached out, squeezed the man's neck, and knocked him out.

Roland opened the cello case on the man's back. Sure enough, it held an unusually shaped sniper rifle.

"That's Gotham for you," Roland muttered. Whenever anyone in Gotham showed up carrying an opaque case, it paid to be careful. Experience had shown that it might contain any number of weapons.

Still, it was rare for someone to carry a case without looking out of place. Roland glanced at the sniper again. Dressed like that, the man looked every inch a gentleman.

With that thought, Roland stripped off the man's suit jacket, intending to take it home.

"Why is it that every time I see you, you're doing something I can't make sense of?" a familiar voice asked beside him.

"Why do you always have to show up like that? You nearly scared me." Roland set the jacket aside and turned to Batman. "You're getting involved in gang fights too?"

"Yes. Their violence is spreading, and a lot of ordinary people have been caught up in it," Batman said. "I have to bring it under control."

"Then go ahead. I'll cover you from here." Roland waved him off and turned his attention back to the pile of goods.

Batman couldn't be bothered to argue. He plunged into the crowd, disarming gang members one after another. The chaos below deepened, and the SWAT team used it as cover to move in one direction.

"Damn it, that freak in the bat suit... Doesn't he only come out at night? What's he doing here in broad daylight?" a gang member in a leather jacket cursed.

"No idea, boss. He's still a ways off, though. Should we run?"

"Run? That freak's only good for scaring people at night. It's not like he's bulletproof. This is our chance—head straight for the goods!" The moment he finished speaking, a gunshot cracked. Blood sprayed, and his underling dropped.

"What? Damn it, that was a Glock 19. Are the police here?"

"Boss, a bunch of cops are coming right at us! They've got too much firepower. The boys can't hold them off!"

"Damn it. It's Boone. They're here to shut us up..." The gang leader swallowed as he recognized the man in front of him. "Captain Boone, I even bought you dinner once..."

Before he could finish, Boone drew his gun and pointed it at him.

A muffled shot rang out. The bullet punched a hole through the man's head, spraying blood and brain matter. His body slowly crumpled.

"Too much talk." Boone put his gun away. "Now we don't have to worry about him exposing us. Come on. We'll steer clear of Batman and leave."

"Yes, sir."

But Boone didn't know that two people had seen everything.

One was an unscrupulous priest above them. The other was a one-armed old cop in a nearby alley.

"Wow. He didn't hesitate to kill the witness, and he took out a bunch of his own men while he was at it. That's ruthless." Roland clicked his tongue.

Just then, Boone stopped, as if he had heard him.

Huh? He heard me from this far away? That can't be right. Roland frowned, sensing something was off.

"Captain, what is it?"

"I have a feeling someone saw us." Boone turned toward the alley and aimed his gun. "Come out."

"Stop, Boone. Don't make this worse." A one-armed, middle-aged cop stepped out of the alley and looked at the team helplessly. "Boone, White, Ruhl... You were all my colleagues. We fought side by side. Why...?"

"Hollihan, you shouldn't be here." Boone went pale. He hesitated for a moment. "If you can, I'd like you to keep this quiet."

"Boone, you know I can't." Hollihan's brow furrowed, regret plain on his face. "You know what kind of man I am. Turn yourself in."

"That's even less likely." Boone stared at him coldly and raised his gun. "Goodbye, Hollihan."

A Batarang struck the pistol from his hand. At the same time, a black cape swept into two officers and knocked them down.

"Batman!" Boone roared, ready to attack him. But the cold edge of the Batarang warned him that one step closer would cost him his throat.

"Put down your weapons and turn yourselves in," Batman said coldly.

"You..." Boone tried to resist, but the Batarang's blade pressed against his Adam's apple.

"Put down your weapons and turn yourselves in," Batman repeated.

Boone closed his eyes. He knew he had no way out.

Gotham City police arrived a while later and took the SWAT team away.

Under Commissioner Gordon's questioning, Boone soon confessed to protecting a smuggling ring and murdering witnesses to cover it up.

"I used to think Boone was a good officer. I never imagined..." Gordon said, smoking in a secluded corner.

"People are complicated," Batman said. "He might once have been a good cop. That doesn't change the choice he made later."

"It still doesn't sit right with me." Gordon sighed. "By the way, things are under control now. Where did that shipment of salvaged furs go?"

"Someone who wanted it probably took it," Batman said.

At the docks.

Roland floored the truck's accelerator and sped away.

"Damn it, those gang members are trying to block us!" Jason sat in the passenger seat, his expression grim.

"Ignore them. They think that little car can stop me? What a joke!" Roland pressed the accelerator harder. "I thought it was a speed bump!"