"Yes, I'll be careful."
Bruce ended the call from Alfred.
With the Batmobile at its center, a frenzied crowd had surrounded nearly five hundred meters of the street. Some people pounded on the windows; others tried to spray-paint the bodywork; still others compared wrench sizes, trying to remove the wheels.
Most of them had a simple demand.
They wanted to make Batman the leader of this revolution, preferably with him driving the Batmobile straight through Gotham's two gates.
One was City Hall, the seat of Gotham's government.
The other was Wayne Tower.
"Help us, Batman!"
"You can't want to see Gotham keep sinking this low."
The Batmobile had excellent soundproofing, but Bruce could still read the crowd's demands from their lips.
"Goddammit..."
He held his head in his hands, letting out a rare curse.
He had to admit he was trapped. Tear gas, electrifying the bodywork-he had tried every method available to disperse the crowd.
But there were simply too many people surrounding him. Even when those closest to the car tried to flee after being hit, the outer ranks kept pushing inward.
Some of those pressed against the bodywork had already passed out from lack of oxygen. Even those still conscious were turning deathly pale and foaming at the mouth.
Batman realized he had to abandon the Batmobile.
Grabbing Hugo beside him and opening the roof, Batman launched into the air on the ejector seat, then used his grappling hook to reach a nearby rooftop.
The moment he landed, he noticed thick smoke pouring from a fifth-floor apartment across the street.
A boy clung to a dangling curtain, screaming for help, while protesters marched beneath him. Following the faint sound of sirens, Batman saw that a fire engine was trapped a block away.
"Go on. Do what you need