Chapter 18: Brother Tan Falls Into Embarrassment Again

Chapter 18: Brother Tan Falls Into Embarrassment Again

Ever since Arkham Asylum was attacked by the Joker Gang, leading to a massive prison break, the incident immediately dominated the front pages of Gotham City's major newspapers. The ensuing panic among the citizens triggered large-scale protests.

Under public pressure, the police department increased patrols, and City Hall repeatedly promised funding to strengthen Arkham's security measures.

As for capturing the escaped lunatics? That was the Dark Knight Batman's job.

Come on, with a salary of just two or three grand, you expect me to go head-to-head with the Joker Gang?

Have donuts suddenly lost their appeal? Or is my hero complex kicking in?

Quincy, the asylum warden, sipped his coffee and glanced out the window at the workers installing an electric fence. His face was filled with disdain.

Electric fences, watchtowers, firearms—what's the point of making this place look like a prison?

Just last week, Blackgate Prison was broken into, and a bunch of dangerous criminals escaped.

Might as well round them all up and throw them into the Raft, the high-security prison under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s jurisdiction.

At least there was one thing Warden Quincy could take comfort in—no matter how crazy Arkham's escapees were, they only targeted Batman. Blackgate's criminals were different—those guys would rob a bank just for fun while taking a bathroom break.

"Director, we have a problem!"

A plump African American nurse burst into the office. Her uniform was stretched tight, forming ring after ring like a life preserver, bouncing up and down with her heavy breathing.

"What is it?"

Quincy frowned slightly. What could possibly be worse than what had already happened?

"Allen came back… but then he ran off again," Catherine reported.

"He came back and ran off again?"

Quincy was startled.

He wasn't worried about Allen causing trouble, but both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Checkmate had specifically ordered close surveillance on him.

"Allen said he was going to personally catch the escaped criminals. He also mentioned that he might be back late, so there's no need to prepare dinner for him." Catherine repeated Allen's exact words.

"…"

Quincy glanced out the window and caught sight of Allen vaulting over the fence—carrying a bicycle.

He squinted.

Wait a minute… that bike looks familiar.

"You bastard! Put down my bike!"

Quincy stuck his head out the window, shouting in distress. He was an environmentalist, committed to reducing carbon emissions, which was why he chose to commute by bicycle.

Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with his divorce, which left him paying most of his income in alimony and child support, making a car unaffordable.

"No need to see me off! I'll be careful!"

Allen waved casually, leaped over the high wall, and pedaled straight toward Gotham City.

A half-hour ride later.

Allen entered the city, where the smog was noticeably thicker.

Gotham, a city where Wayne Enterprises controlled nearly every aspect of society, looked glamorous on the surface. But in its neglected corners, the homeless gathered, and crime thrived.

As Allen cycled through Gotham's streets, he took the opportunity to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

"Shit… I forgot to bring my Batman suit. My combat effectiveness just dropped by at least fifty percent."

Allen looked down at his League of Assassins outfit—completely inconsistent with his established persona.

"As the wise former CEO of Ariga Inc., Yujiro, once said: 'I never spend money when I shop.'"

"Then there's the legendary lecturer, Run Amelika, who taught us: 'The Empress has already paid for it.'"

"I have mastered the art of wilderness survival!"

With countless successful case studies in mind, Allen began formulating a flawless plan.

Weaving through the alleys where the homeless gathered, he searched for "wild loot spawn points."

After two hours, he had a pretty decent haul—

Two hamburgers, one sandwich, three cans of soda, a black satin blindfold, a small fleece blanket, and an envelope containing five dollars.

Putting on the blindfold and draping the blanket over his shoulders, Allen admired his new look with satisfaction.

[ Ding! Congratulations, Host! New identity unlocked: Whiplash Knight, Bruce Hoon! +300% to all attributes, +500% attack speed! ]

Of course, that was just Allen's imagination running wild.

Night fell.

Thick clouds obscured the moon—another overcast night.

And in the sky, a bat symbol shone against the clouds like a stage spotlight.

Commissioner Gordon stood by the Bat-Signal with his hands in his pockets, waiting for Gotham's Dark Knight to arrive.

Whoosh…

A sound came from behind, followed by a low, gravelly voice.

"Gordon, you called?"

Gordon turned sharply, hand instinctively reaching for his gun.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am the Knight of Justice—Bateman."

With those words, Allen wheeled his bicycle out of the shadows.

Seeing his full appearance, Gordon couldn't help but twitch his lips.

A satin blindfold… a small fleece blanket…

If you're going to do cosplay, at least put some effort into it.

Gotham had seen plenty of wannabe Batmen—enthusiastic vigilantes who at least made an effort to match Batman's appearance.

"Hands on your head! Against the wall!" Gordon ordered sternly.

"Did you quit hosting Hell's Kitchen and switch to being a cop?" Allen asked nonchalantly.

"We're not the same guy. He's a chef, I'm a detective."

Gordon clarified seriously. In America, having the same name as someone else wasn't uncommon. Naming a kid was a real headache, after all.

"Stand down, Gordon."

Just then, a dark figure dropped between them.

Dressed in an all-black suit with only his mouth and eyes exposed, the real Batman had arrived.

Seeing the right person, Gordon holstered his gun.

If anyone could deal with a lunatic like "Bateman," it was Batman himself.

Allen excitedly stepped forward, flashing a toothy grin.

"Hey, Bats, is that you?"

"You've got the wrong guy," Bruce said in his signature deep voice, deliberately looking at Gordon as if Allen were a stranger.

"B… L… S…"

Allen enunciated three letters.

Bruce's hand immediately clamped over his mouth—those were his initials!

"Business first. Talk later."

"Alright, Mr. Handsome."

Allen quieted down as Gordon delivered the Joker Gang's intel, revealing their hideout locations.

Normally, Batman avoided Gotham's underworld factions—there was an unspoken order in place. But the Joker Gang was different. They didn't just disrupt order; they actively sought to challenge authority. That made them a priority target.

Penguin and Riddler's gangs, on the other hand, were motivated by money and power. They weren't interested in destruction, so they could be dealt with later.

Once the intel was exchanged, Gordon took his leave.

"Bats, pretending not to know me just now really hurt."

Allen clutched his chest, feigning heartbreak.

"I have too many enemies. My identity must remain secret."

Bruce hesitated, then asked, "You vanished for over ten years. I thought you got lost in Silent Hill."

He and Oliver had escaped Silent Hill together. They waited at the entrance for five days, even called the authorities and organized search teams, but found nothing. Eventually, they had to give up.

"I just used the system command: Return to Base." Allen replied casually.

"…"

Bruce wasn't buying it. Having survived the horrors of Silent Hill himself, he knew it was no joke.

"Father, who is he?"

A young voice interrupted.

A boy in a red and black suit had grappled onto the rooftop—Damian Wayne, the fifth Robin.

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