The following evening, when Woodrue received the call, he was replacing a pane of glass on the experimental chamber.
The branches inside were growing too fast, crowding against the chamber walls. A few leaves had even pushed through seams that had originally been sealed.
He had just pushed them back inside when a voice came over the phone.
"Batman busted the warehouse."
Woodrue's hand stopped at the edge of the glass.
"Which warehouse?"
"Which one do you think? The one moving your goods! He even took the manifests. What the hell are you buying all that stuff for? Do you know how crime works in Gotham these days? Petty theft gets Robin, technical crimes get Batgirl, robbery and extortion get Spider-Man, and city-destroying threats get Batman! You fucking-"
Woodrue took off his glove, brushed a fingertip across the screen, and ended the call.
City-destroying? That was underselling it. Strictly speaking, it should be global. But he was unwilling to call it destruction.
It was rebirth.
How long had he even been in Gotham?
He had bought the equipment separately, shipped it separately, and switched vehicles several times along the way. Even the building had been rented under someone else's name.
How had this bat managed to zero in on him?
With so many criminals in Gotham, couldn't he catch someone else first?
The professor adjusted his glasses. Sweat seeping from his temples had already dampened the arms. He looked toward the machine occupying half the laboratory and quickly suppressed his newly formed thought of moving away.
Taking it apart and putting it back together would take several days at least.
Batman clearly wouldn't be considerate enough to wait until he finished moving.
Only here had he finally managed to assemble the fruits of all those years of research. His Phyto-Chemical