Gray hand-bones resembling withered branches crawl all over the courtyard walls. From inside the building, there are occasional eerie and tragic cries that send shivers down one's spine. The walls are eroded and weathered, presenting a strange appearance like a devil's painting. The entire building exudes a sinister and terrifying atmosphere, inside and out.
This is one of Gotham's oldest structures—the Arkham Asylum.
Similar to both a psychiatric hospital and a prison, it houses numerous mentally disturbed individuals with criminal tendencies.
For some reason, Gotham seems to be a cursed place, where criminals with mental issues are as abundant as pickpockets celebrating finding a hundred dollars on the ground.
Inside the asylum.
Batman hides in the shadows, crouching near the railing close to the rooftop, his cold gaze looking down.
He came here to investigate a large shipment of chemicals that arrived at the docks.
He had thought someone was secretly producing drugs capable of sentencing thousands to the gallows. But now it seems that things might not be exactly as he had anticipated.
In the storage room below, it appears to be a pharmaceutical factory.
Workers dressed in pharmaceutical uniforms are blending and manufacturing white powder, which, under the command of a man in a white lab coat, is being poured into the city's water supply connected to Arkham.
The man resembles a scarecrow, thin and slightly hunched, with glasses and a scholarly appearance, but there's a hint of madness in his eyes. The name tag on his chest reads "Jonathan Crane," and his position is listed as "chief psychiatrist."
'He's the chief psychiatrist of this asylum.'
Bruce furrowed his brow.
But evidently, this psychiatrist is not content with the usual work of dealing with insane patients all day and has taken up other activities.
His gaze falls on the thickness of the powder that has accumulated unintentionally next to the pipeline.
'This operation has been going on for at least a few days.'
'Is someone poisoning the water of the entire city of Gotham?'
No, it's not ordinary toxins. Batman drinks Gotham's water as well, and he hasn't sensed anything amiss.
Bruce takes a step, intending to descend and use his fists to stop these people with unclear criminal intentions and interrogate the thin doctor by hanging him with a grappling hook when he received a message inside his cowl.
"Alfred?"
"Sir, someone is visiting. Your Bat mask seems to be exposed. It would be best to return and take a look."
Given Alfred's quick and concise warning, Batman hesitates. He used the sound of rushing water in the pipeline to mask his movements, quickly wiping away some of the powder that spilled on the corner of the wall and putting it away with the help of the grappling hook and vanishing into the shadows unnoticed.
After the death of his parents, he was raised by the old butler. In Bruce's heart, Alfred is the only family he has left. He mounted the Batcycle and quickly heads home.
...
A few minutes ago, on the streets of Gotham.
Passersby were all discussing the same thing—the news of one of Gotham's biggest mob bosses, Falcone, being stripped down to his underwear and hung in the shape of a bat signal.
The terrifying bat symbol could be seen all over Gotham by just raising one's head.
The notorious name and authority of the crime lord Falcone had been utterly wiped out, and the whole of Gotham felt that something different might be happening.
This had never happened before. Someone was challenging the dark and corrupt order of the city.
Rogue and criminal elements all over Gotham's streets and alleys had begun to act like genuine criminals, showing fear and confusion in their crimes. They were afraid that at any moment, the Bat would appear form some high places! The actions of Batman cast a strange shadow over the criminals, engulfing them in fear.
"Batman?"
A newspaper was blown by the wind and smacked Clark's face as he looked up at the tall buildings, having just arrived in Gotham.
He removed the newspaper from his face and saw the headline in bold red letters—"Under the Bat Signal, Roman Falcone Captured."
It was accompanied by a photo of the scene, as well as a sketch of Batman with his bat wings spread, darting between skyscrapers.
He paused for a moment; why did this silhouette look so familiar?
"Is this the person who knows about the Lazarus Pit?" Clark wondered as he turned around and saw someone he didn't quite recognize.
"Who are you? And why are you wearing David's clothes?"
David had returned to his natural appearance when he came back to town, and he obviously couldn't reveal his identity in Gotham.
"Where's your blue hood?" David reminded him.
"David? How did you end up looking like this? Is this your power too?"
As soon as he heard those words and saw the familiar height and build, Clark immediately recognized his younger brother and was astonished. Following his brother's lead, he took out the blue hood and put it on.
"Now, where do we find this Batman?"
"Bats are creatures that are active at night and rest during the day."
Ignoring Clark's curious gaze, David thought for a moment and replied, "Let's check his home."
Batman also needs rest, and it's during the night when Gotham's crime rate surges; he might be at home now.
The two of them raced through the city at supersonic speed and arrived at Wayne Manor on the outskirts of Gotham.
Green grass, walls covered in ivy, a pitch-black, tall mansion gate, a long corridor with statues, and a grand, tall castle.
"It's such a huge estate. Lex's mansion doesn't even compare to this vast land."
Standing outside the manor, Clark widened his eyes in amazement. He felt like a country bumpkin entering the city as he looked around.
"The Batman lives here? By the way, what are his powers?"
The newspaper said that Batman came forward to fight against gangsters and save others, maintaining the city's order. It would be impossible for him to face numerous armed criminals empty-handed, and he instinctively remembered the abilities he had encountered before.
"You've already seen them," David replied.
"Seen them?" Clark looked puzzled. Besides the large ancient estate, he hadn't seen anything else.
David didn't choose to sneak in without permission. He rang the doorbell.
On the palm-sized screen next to the door, an elderly face with a British butler's demeanor appeared.
"May I ask who you are?"
"Is Bruce Wayne here?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but he's not at home. Please come back another day, and if you don't mind, may I have your name, so when the master returns, I can..."
"What about Batman?"
Ignoring Alfred's formal response, David said coldly.
At the moment, Bruce Wayne is likely spreading fear among all the criminals in Gotham as the Bat.
"Batman? You mean the vigilante who wears a bat cape and flies around Gotham?"
Alfred recognized David immediately, though he didn't show it on the surface.
Batman had previously displayed David's face on the Batcave's screens to gather information, and he had also seen the amazing footage of him firing beams from his fingers, easily killing the robbers.
"This is the Wayne Manor and the person you're looking for is not here."
With an apologetic tone, Alfred closed the video communication.
"Now what?" Clark scratched his face, being turned away by someone, and with an urgent situation, should they force their way in?
"It doesn't matter; I've already achieved my goal. Right now, A certain bat should be rushing back to his lair," David said.
Not intending to wait outside foolishly, David led Clark as they bypassed the main gate and entered the estate.
...
Riding on the Bat-cycle, Batman quickly rushed back to his home.
Like a thief, he used his grappling hook to sneak into the second floor of his own house and looked inside the window.
In the receiving room, two people were sitting on the sofa, being served by Alfred.
One familiar figure hadn't touched the coffee in front of him and was tapping the sofa armrests rapidly, seemingly a bit impatiently waiting for something.
"This guy hasn't left Gotham yet.? What could make him so anxious?"
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