When Chen Mo said that, it happened to go quiet outside Arkham's east gate.
Not that it was actually silent.
How could a hellhole like Arkham, so blessed with outstanding people and gathered talent, ever be silent?
In the distance, an iron gate creaked open. Somewhere inside the walls, an old pipe clanked. A drawn-out laugh came from a ward upstairs, only to be muffled by something halfway through.
Farther away, the Mad Hatter's transport van was rounding a corner.
Its headlights swept across the perimeter wall, cold and white.
Chen Mo hung upside down beside the wall, studying the partial old facility number.
"Let me make this clear first. When I say Court of Owls, I don't mean I think it'd be unreasonable for Penguin to suddenly branch out into psychiatric hospital access systems. It's just, this hiding method, these permissions old enough to scrape out of the cracks in the wall, this neatly covered trail-none of it feels like a street gang's work."
Batman said nothing.
He put the device back in his belt and turned toward the duty corridor behind the east gate.
"Check the people first."
"Got it." Chen Mo flipped down from the wall and landed with a smack at the edge of the lamplight. "No matter how well you hide a computer, someone still has to press a key. Unless this crappy Arkham building has evolved enough to open doors for lunatics on its own. In that case, I suggest admitting it to a ward tomorrow. If it won't go, I can. One of us has definitely gone crazy."
Batman raised a hand.
Chen Mo shut up for half a second.
Half a second.
He really had tried.
The guard inside the east gate still stood nearby, his face almost as pale as the