Kidnapping

Commissioner Gordon had recovered his memories. He was now driving back to the precinct.

The trip from Arkham Island to the precinct was no short one. He had to cross several bridges and tunnels, and the districts along the way were hardly safe either. Two-Face and her people were the most brazen of them all.

Before Harvey Dent went mad, she had been Gotham's rising star, a renowned young prosecutor.

Yet her extensive legal knowledge from those days meant that even if Batwoman caught her, she would soon be paroled. After all, Batman could not appear in court to testify against her.

Ever since Batwoman left, Gordon had remained on guard, but nothing had happened. Until last week, when the precinct received calls for help from civilians. Apparently, the Circus had mobilized in force, burning, killing, and looting in the streets.

He immediately dispatched officers to maintain order, while he drove to Arkham himself. Whenever the Circus made such a move in the past, it usually meant Jester was out again.

But when he arrived at Arkham and passed through layers of security to see Jester, she was in her cell, a napkin tucked around her neck as she sat cross-legged on the floor with remarkable refinement, eating a roasted rat with a plastic knife and fork.

He had nothing to say to Jester. Once he confirmed she was securely locked up, he planned to return to the precinct and continue dealing with the unrest in the city.

Gordon was an old detective. A situation like this would not make him lower his guard. The Circus's actions had struck him as unusual, so ever since that day, he had gone to Arkham every day. Only by seeing Jester inside with his own eyes could he rest easy.

Although the Bat-Signal on the precinct roof remained lit, it was now merely a deterrent to criminals. Batman was gone, and Gotham was unattended.

Today's visitation had ended, and as usual, he had not spoken to Jester. The entire time, he had merely stood quietly behind thick bulletproof glass and watched her draw on the floor of her small room. After a few strokes, she would seem to think of something and burst into The Batman Who Laughs, then draw a few more lines before dancing around and running wildly through the room.

It made him want to rush in and beat her senseless.

Yes, he hated her, but rules were rules. There was only so much he could do.

In that regard, he and Batwoman saw things much the same way, but Deathstroke was completely different. People like Cindy and Su Ming never waited until the next day to take revenge.

Gordon could not wait to see what she was drawing. He had already left the precinct later than usual today because someone had reported ninjas in the city during the day, claiming they had attacked someone.

For an entire day and half the night, Gordon had been investigating the matter.

Unfortunately, the rain had been too heavy. No clues had been left behind, and even the police dogs could not pick up a scent.

It was past midnight. He should return to the GCPD, pick up Barbara, and head home with her. Maybe they could stop by a gas station along the way to buy some donuts, burgers, or something else for dinner. He just did not know whether the fast-food place they often passed would be open in this weather.

Driving through a torrential downpour was a strange feeling. He could not see very far ahead, and all he heard was the monotonous patter of rain against the car.

Gordon turned on the radio, then quickly switched it off. The Gotham radio announcer had a shrill, excited voice that reminded him of that madwoman, of the person he had just seen.

Maybe he ought to investigate that announcer someday. He always felt she was a member of the Circus.

The lonely journey inevitably filled Gordon's mind with thoughts. He thought of his daughter being confined to a Wheelchair at such a young age, and could not help feeling heartache and worry. She was still as kind and lovable as ever, but those regrets always put her at a disadvantage and caused inconvenience when it came to finding a partner.

The torrential rain outside kept battering the windows. The sound of water surging and streaming down was like waves rising and falling. As Gordon drove, his heart remained unsettled.

Batwoman had said there might be a way to heal spinal nerves. What could it be?

She had said danger was approaching. What exactly was it?

A few days ago, it had been the Circus. Today, it was the League of Assassins. What were these people plotting?

With his mind full of questions, Gordon narrowed his eyes and struggled to see through the windshield completely blurred by rain. He needed to pick up his daughter and get home quickly. The car could not flood and break down here.

Yet at an intersection ahead, right around the bend, he spotted a strangely dressed person lying in the pooled water by the roadside.

Though it was dark and the rain obscured his vision, he was certain he had seen someone collapse. The heavy rain was mercilessly swallowing her body.

He slowed down and carefully observed the situation. There was no one suspicious nearby, and the buildings along the road all had their doors tightly shut. Gotham residents had long passed the point of meddling in other people's business. No one would help a person lying by the roadside, because it could be a scam or a trap.

Still, in most cases, people who collapsed by the roadside were really dead. The causes of death varied.

Freezing to death, starving to death, murder, and so on.

He slowly stopped the car, unfastened his seat belt, tightened his trench coat around himself, and checked his pistol.

As a police officer, even if he was already commissioner, he could not turn a blind eye to someone lying by the roadside. That was his duty.

The wind and rain had grown even fiercer. It had not been this bad when he left Arkham, but now, he could barely see anything more than ten meters away. The wind pressed against the car door, and it took considerable effort for him to get out.

The moment one foot stepped into water above his ankles, a bone-deep chill swept through him.

"Whew." The rain carried in the wind made Gordon instinctively lower his head to avoid it. His glasses were immediately soaked, twisting everything in his vision as if he were looking through a funhouse mirror.

He deeply understood that he was getting old. He could feel the decline in his strength and stamina himself. Though he was not yet sixty, the accumulated old injuries from years past made every joint ache in weather like this.

After shutting the car door, he shielded his glasses with one hand and held the pistol beneath his trench coat at his waist with the other, like an old man in a storm protecting his aching lower back as he slowly trudged forward.

As he drew closer, he could see the person lying by the road more clearly. She was a young woman dressed in clothing made of Beast Hide, like a cavewoman.

Gordon was not surprised. When you had a friend who dressed herself as a bat every day, drove around in a bat-like car, and called her little gadgets Batarangs, Bat-Belts, Bat-Gloves, and Bat-Capes—

Then no matter what bizarre outfit you saw, you could accept it. Gotham had never lacked freaks. It was just that some of them were merely going to Halloween parties, while others were dangerous.

Judging by the person's condition, Gordon guessed she was the latter.

"Ma'am! Are you conscious? I'm James Gordon of the Gotham City Police Department."

After determining that the other party might be dangerous, the first step was to call out, hoping they would put away their little tricks, stop playing dead, and leave immediately.

If they remained stubborn after being warned, Gordon would fire under certain dangerous circumstances.

That was Gotham's law enforcement procedure.

The woman by the road did not move. She gave no response at all.

Gordon moved closer and examined her carefully. Her pale face showed that she was dead, and the rain had soaked her body until it was slightly swollen.

There was a massive wound along the side of her abdomen, cut open by a sharp weapon. That single attack had destroyed a third of her internal organs and caused her to bleed to death.

Based on the current circumstances, this was not the primary crime scene. She had been moved here. There was no nearby mud beneath the victim's fingernails, nor any abrasions on the soles of her feet, indicating that she had died in a dry, flat environment. Judging by her attire, it was likely indoors at some upscale club.

But the downpour had destroyed most of the evidence. That was all he could tell. Her eyes were wide open in death, her gray-white pupils staring blankly at the sky.

Gordon sighed. This meant the precinct had more work to do. Gotham did not only have lunatics committing crimes. Ordinary people killed too, for all sorts of reasons.

The victim's identity could not yet be determined. He could only call the coroners first. Gordon turned and limped toward his car, intending to make the call from inside.

But at that moment, the doors of buildings all around suddenly flew open, and a group of people poured out. They wore black suits and old-fashioned felt fedoras. They immediately surrounded Gordon, countless Submachine Guns aimed at him.

"Commissioner Gordon, our boss would like you to pay her a visit."

The woman at the front wore a false smile. At the same time, several black vans drove out from behind the buildings, and she gestured for Gordon to get in.

Gordon removed his glasses, trying his best not to let them obstruct his vision, but his nearsightedness was a problem as well.

"Who is your boss? Penguin? Black Mask?"

Only their subordinates would be this indistinctive. Though he was being kidnapped, at least they were not completely unreasonable. Perhaps there was still a chance to—

"Oh? It seems Commissioner Gordon has forgotten his old friends and only remembers the new ones?" The woman smiled, then bared her teeth and slammed a heavy punch into Gordon. "It's all right. Once you get there and meet the boss, you'll remember naturally."

The sudden blow knocked Gordon to the ground, leaving him kneeling in the muddy water by the street. The corpse in the distance remained the same, but now he felt as if it were watching him.

"Her... that woman over there. Did you kill her too?" Gordon clutched his stomach, sprawled on the ground, and stared fiercely at the woman in black before him.

"Ugh." The woman in black sighed and looked around at the rain. "You still have the time to worry about a dead person? We already sent another team to invite your daughter. You should be worrying whether she'll end up like that corpse. Take him away!"

She shouted her orders to her subordinates. The rain poured down in sheets, yet it could not drown out her voice.

And so, surrounded by several burly women, Gordon was hauled into a black van. The vehicles started one after another, and everyone soon vanished from the street.

Only Gordon's car and the corpse of the woman in Beast Hide remained, gradually obscured by the curtain of rain.

Meanwhile, Su Ming and Cindy were still pedaling hard through the storm. With his current physical condition, he did not feel tired at all even in the howling wind and rain. They had already traveled roughly thirty kilometers in only ten minutes.

Only Deathstroke or other enhanced humans could ride a unicycle at speeds above one hundred and fifty kilometers per hour. If it had not been raining today, he felt the bearings would have started smoking.

Through the dense curtain of rain, they could see a tall building in the distance. Its beautiful dome was faintly visible. That was the Gotham City Courthouse. Across from it, separated by a small central park, stood the Gotham City Police Department.

There was not a single pedestrian on the streets. This was the central district, an area dense with upscale office buildings and comparatively better security.

On ordinary days, people often brought their families to sit in this park, while workers from nearby offices came here to eat lunch.

But midnight was another matter. Even with the GCPD right across the street, people still came to the park to trade contraband.

He felt as cold as the environment around him. Outside, it was probably only a few degrees. Spring rain nights were like this. Water poured into every gap in his armor, while the wind rapidly stole away what little heat he had left.

Cindy was still leading several steps ahead. She was probably freezing by now too.

"If I'd known the rain would keep getting worse, we should've had a few drinks at Harley's before coming out. At least we'd be warmer." He touched the liquor in his backpack, which he had stolen from Wayne Tower.

Cindy balanced on her unicycle and sighed. "Looks like we think alike. I don't just want a drink right now. A hot dog would be even better."

"The vending machines at the precinct should have some. We can smash one later. Your world has microwaves, right?"

"Of course it has microwaves. They're household appliances."

He truly did not know what was wrong with this world. It had all the appliances and communication equipment it should have, yet no Flying Vehicles, as if that branch of the technology tree had simply been forgotten.

Still, the two of them were already planning what to eat after reaching the precinct. They only needed to knock everyone inside unconscious and take Gordon away.

With the city in such chaos lately, given Gordon's dutiful personality, he was definitely working overtime at a time like this.

Su Ming's plan was simple. Kidnap Gordon, then attack the television station. They would use Gordon's safety as leverage on television and force Batwoman to appear.

Would Bliss stand by and let Gordon die? Impossible. Even on Earth -11, before Gotham was destroyed, Bliss was no different from Batmen in other Parallel Universes.

In fact, because she was this world's only Superhero, she had an even stronger sense of responsibility. When her family was destroyed and she was left alone, that responsibility had turned completely into guilt and crushed her.

"Wait. Do you hear gunfire over there?"

Through the wind and rain, he vaguely heard a disturbance coming from the direction of the GCPD. There was no thunder tonight, so that continuous rumbling had to be explosions or gunfire.

Cindy removed her helmet and listened closely. Her blonde hair was instantly soaked by the rain, and her expression turned serious.

"That's right. And that last one was a grenade explosion. It came from inside the precinct."

The two realized something had changed and pedaled even faster.