Chapter 800 "Arresting The Cat"
"You still manage to slip in and out unnoticed," Gordon muttered.
Seeing Batman, Gordon couldn't help but release a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Since the arrival of the Dark Knight, Gotham's landscape has shifted significantly. Gang activity had simmered down, and Gordon knew he could rely on Batman when faced with daunting challenges.
"I have a feeling I know why you're seeking me out. I've been on the hunt, too, and I've just caught wind of some leads." Bruce spoke directly, his voice distorted by the voice changer embedded in his suit.
Gordon's visit likely pertained to the relentless spree of killings orchestrated by the elusive tabby cat. It had been a week of frantic searching for the feline culprit, but even with aerial surveillance, they had hit a dead end in the past two days.
Fortunately, thanks to Alfred's assistance, they had managed to unearth a potential lead on the cat's whereabouts the previous night.
Originally, Bruce had intended to venture there himself, but the sighting of the Bat-Signal en route prompted a change of plans.
Opting for prudence, he decided to touch base with Gordon first. Collaboration seemed the wisest course of action for both parties involved.
After all, this wasn't your typical stray cat—it was a magical one.
"Do you have any leads on the recent Shadowless Knight?" Batman's inquiry sparked a glimmer of hope in Gordon's eyes, reaffirming his faith in the Caped Crusader's reliability.
"Shadowless Knight?" Bruce echoed, momentarily taken aback by the unfamiliar moniker.
Gordon hastened to elucidate, "That's the name circulating for the individual responsible for the recent string of criminal eliminations. We're in the dark about their identity and gender, hence the alias' Shadowless Knight.'"
"Well, perhaps you should call them the Cat Knight!" Bruce couldn't resist a wry quip, his lips curling into a subtle smirk.
Now it was Gordon's turn to wear the mantle of confusion. "Cat Knight? Why's that? Are they connected to Catwoman?"
A flicker of realization crossed Gordon's mind; the simultaneous emergence of Catwoman and the vigilante killings suggested a possible correlation.
However, Bruce's response dashed Gordon's developing theory. "No, because it's an actual cat—a tabby that talks, flies, and wields magic!"
Gordon's expression morphed into a perplexed amalgamation of question marks. If it weren't for the fact that the man before him was Batman, he might have entertained the notion of throwing him off the precinct roof.
What a laugh! Gordon couldn't believe it—Batman was suggesting that the elusive murderer, whom the police couldn't even trace, was none other than a talking, flying, magic-wielding cat. And this wasn't some whimsical children's tale.
"Seems like you need to rest for tonight... I will deal with this myself. You can go home and rest." Gordon muttered in disbelief after hearing Batman's explanation.
Batman won't back down without having his voice heard, "Commissioner! I am telling the truth. That cat is powerful enough to take down Gotham's cruelest criminal in one swoop!"
If Bruce had proposed a theory involving a machine or a mutant feline under someone's control, Gordon might have entertained the notion. But this? It was beyond absurd.
Bruce, sensing Gordon's incredulity, spared no time in explanation.
Instead, he retrieved a small device from his utility belt and played footage of his initial encounter with the cat, followed by drone-recorded clips of the feline committing its heinous acts.
Naturally, any footage depicting Bruce's own feline transformation had been meticulously excised.
As Gordon watched the playback, his jaw slackened, his expression one of existential disbelief. It dawned on him: Batman wasn't jesting; the perpetrator was indeed, this preposterous cat.
Once the video concluded, Gordon paused, then lifted his gaze to Batman. "Do you have any idea of its current whereabouts?"
Batman replied without hesitation, "It's likely prowling some dark corner of the city, committing its deeds. While I can't pinpoint its exact location, I do know where it tends to retreat after its nightly exploits."
Bruce retrieved his player, his expression grave as Gordon leaned in, eager for the crucial information.
In measured tones, Bruce divulged, "Gotham Royal Hotel."
Unable to track the cat's location directly, despite exhaustive efforts, Bruce's trusty butler Alfred had stumbled upon a lead.
A week prior, a certain Patience Philips had entered the country on a flight from Salt Lake City to Gotham.
Among her possessions was a tabby cat—a dead ringer for the one Bruce had encountered, complete with its distinctive bell.
Further investigation revealed that Salt Lake City had experienced a rash of thefts mirroring those perpetrated by the recent Catwoman in Gotham.
Now, Bruce had cause to suspect that Patience was, in fact, the elusive Catwoman, and her feline companion the perpetrator behind the killings.
What remained unclear was the nature of their relationship—whether Catwoman directed the cat's murderous actions, or if the feline acted of its own accord, with Catwoman merely an unwitting accomplice.
After digesting Bruce's concise summary, Gordon stroked his chin thoughtfully before posing a crucial question, "What do you propose we do next? Should we make a direct arrest, or attempt to negotiate first?"
Deep down, Gordon harbored no ill will towards the feline perpetrator responsible for dispatching numerous criminals.
In truth, the cat's actions aligned with Gordon's own aspirations, instilling fear in Gotham's underworld—a feat he'd long sought.
However, the principles of law enforcement dictated a different approach. Permitting individuals to take justice into their own hands, regardless of their motives, threatened to plunge society into chaos.
This distinction was crucial. Unlike Batman, who refrained from lethal force, the cat's actions strayed into morally ambiguous territory. While Batman's methods bordered on extreme, they could still be construed as acts of heroism, albeit draped in unconventional attire.
"My suggestion is to apprehend them first, then open a dialogue. We need to learn more about them. We can't simply throw them in jail." Bruce proposed, acutely aware of the cat's formidable abilities. Without preemptively neutralizing its capabilities, negotiations could swiftly turn sour, leaving them at the cat's mercy—a scenario Bruce was keen to avoid.
Gordon nodded in agreement. "Alright, what's your plan? I'll mobilize the necessary resources to assist you."
Gordon's unwavering trust in Batman prompted him to delegate the planning to the caped crusader, rallying police officers to bolster their efforts.
Batman nodded assuredly. "With our combined efforts, our chances of success will be significantly higher. Here's the plan..."
At four o'clock the following morning, Jerry concluded his nocturnal activities and returned to the hotel under the cover of an apparition.
His strength had substantially recuperated, affording him the luxury of employing apparition within Gotham City's confines.
This newfound ability thwarted Bruce's surveillance drones, rendering them ineffective in tracking Jerry's movements over the past few days.
By bypassing the need for conventional flight spells, Jerry could seamlessly teleport to his targets, execute his objectives, and vanish without a trace.
"It seems Batman's reputation is well-deserved. Your methods have proven effective," Jerry mused upon his return to the hotel room, his heightened mental acuity detecting the police presence outside and Batman's vigil atop the building.
"Let's see what this bat has in store for me, shall we?" Jerry mused to himself.