"Bang!"
A shotgun fired, and in the instant that the flash of fire appeared, Merkel saw the scene inside the manor, every plant's leaves were beginning to sway, steadily stretching towards him.
Discovering that the gun didn't serve a purpose against the plants, Merkel showed no panic. He picked up the bag he'd just dusted with powder and at a rapid speed, scattered the powder all around the surrounding ground.
He steadily retreated towards the interior of the manor building, sprinkling the powder on the ground as he went. After he'd retreated back inside, "Bang!" He fired the shotgun and the bullet sparked the chemical specifically used for burning, instantly causing flames to rise sharply.
Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the garden burn with fierce flames, Merkel sighed deeply. Then, he walked over to the hall, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello, Mr. Alfred? Bad news, I just got finished burning the entire garden at our employer's house... "
Inside Wayne Manor, Alfred put Aisha, who he was holding with his other hand, down. He pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed, "Good Lord! After so long without calling, I thought you'd finally become a competent butler!"
"I didn't expect a surprise this grand... What reason could possibly justify you burning down the large garden in the middle of the manor?! Rodrix Manor's grand garden is very famous within Gotham's private residence circle - and you burned it down?!!!"
"Fine, listen, Merkel. You're a butler, only a butler. If you're still unable to adjust to this occupation, then I can only get in touch... What? The plants attacked first??"
Alfred raised his voice, "You haven't been drinking, have you? That would be a serious breach of professional ethics! You can't..."
"Ah!!!"
In the back garden of Wayne Manor, a miserable howl was heard. Alfred dropped the phone immediately and ran towards the back garden. But faster was Aisha. As the two raced into the back garden, they found Dick, hanging on the fence wall.
Alfred ran over immediately to help him down, then said, "Young Master Dick, even if you're practicing gymnastics, you can't always leap from the top of the wall. I always said that one day you would be hung in mid-air, just like Lord Wayne once was..."
"No…," Dick scratched his head, "I didn't jump down from the wall, I was practicing the dance moves for the social club. I felt like a hand, yanked me up on the wall?"
Dick turned his head, full of doubt, looking at the garden wall, but nothing was there outside the vine. He said, "That's crazy, did I get so focused on rehearsing that I didn't notice I had climbed up on the fence?"
Alfred's alertness was much higher than Merkel's. He immediately pulled Dick away from the fence. But when he turned his head, he saw a large vine directly wrapping around Aisha on the fence wall.
Aisha didn't understand the situation and thought it was just a game, she raised both hands and cheered. Alfred quickly picked up a gardening shovel from the side, swung it forcefully, and the sharp edge of the shovel cut the vine. He rushed up to catch Aisha before she hit the ground.
He held Aisha in one arm and lead Dick with the other, back into the building. He asked them to stay by the window and not move, always staying within his sight.
He went into the tool room and grabbed a gun, along with the same type of burning powder that Merkel had, first fired a shot at the vine. After finding that it had no effect, he poured the powder directly at the root system of the plant and then lit the flame.
Circling the garden, just as all the plants began to move, the fierce fire engulfed them. Alfred walked back into the house with the shotgun and the gardening shovel. Dick gasped, "My God! Mr. Alfred, you burnt down the garden of Wayne Manor!"
"Young Master Dick, you can go to the living room to practice dancing, remember to take Miss Aisha with you. I have to make a few phone calls, you can't run out at any cost..."
Seeing Alfred's furrowed brows, Dick realized something was wrong. He nodded obediently, picked up Aisha, went upstairs to their room.- He closed the door and windows and began playing building blocks with Aisha.
Alfred went downstairs to the phone and started calling all the butlers he knew.
"Hello? Is this the Lev Manor at Osprey Street No. 3? I am the butler from Wayne Manor, have you noticed any mutations in the plants in your garden?... Oh, you saw the vine moving, right? Right, they have mutated..."
"Remember we once dealt with certain burning dust used for fertilizers? Yes, it is very effective, you just need to sprinkle it at the plant's roots, that's right, spread a good amount, it's difficult to catch fire in this weather..."
"Hello, Mrs. Titus? This is Alfred. Are you okay? You sounded tired? Again, a thief tried to sneak in. It looks like a burglary at this point. Did you manage it?
"I called because I wanted to draw your attention to the fact that there might have been some mutations in your garden plants. You'd better burn them all. Use that burning powder I recommended to you before. Yes, the same one you used to deal with the thieves. No, no. You're too kind..."
"Hello, this is Alfred. I need to warn you..."
Accompanied by one phone call after another, the Batman, squatting in a helicopter intending to land on the roof, saw that all the manors in the South and West Districts were igniting one by one at a high speed.
Almost instantly, the entire South District and West District were lit up. The thick smoke billowing from the raging flames was denser than the mist that had just begun to rise. Countless columns of smoke surged into the sky, tearing through the dark clouds like sharp swords. For a brief moment, the dense rain seemed to stall.
Perched on a rooftop, Batman watched his garden, now blackened from the blaze, fell silent, dropping his hand from the communicator. He swallowed his initial thought to warn Alfred that the plants might have mutated, and that the fire might be effective against them.
Upon returning to Wayne Manor, Alfred met him immediately. Before Batman could speak, Alfred warmly said, "The plant samples and the samples from the burn have been sent to the underground laboratory. The power has been turned on, and hot tea and towels are placed on the table to the right of the laboratory counter. Dick and Elsa have all gone to bed already…"
Batman opened his mouth to speak but retreated, nodding and headed to the underground laboratory.
He turned back to see Alfred smiling at him. He now understood what Shiller meant. His efforts to stop the perpetrator and help Gotham were perhaps not to save Gotham, but to save the perpetrator, keeping him from self-righteously plunging into the abyss, unable to pull himself out.
Zombies unleashed, plant mutations—if these happened in any other city, it would be apocalyptic. But in Gotham, it was more like the daily life of its citizens. The one to defeat a dangerous and terrifying mutated plant was not some mighty, wise hero, but a butler who dealt with everyday nuisances for his master.
As Batman entered the underground lab and looked up to the ceiling, he remembered something. It was only when constructing this lab and digging through the underground layers that he discovered why he'd never heard of burglars in Wayne Manor, growing up in a city like Gotham.
He finally understood the terrifying level of Catwoman's skills that made her the leader of the Four air thieves and a threat to Gotham's hand.
Fetching the plant specimens Alfred had collected, Batman immediately got to work. But thoughts of Catwoman crept into his mind again.
Although he knew that Catwoman was probably not stopped by this degree of assault, Batman couldn't help but worry. To some extent, his concern seemed reasonable, because Catwoman had been startled when the plants started moving.
Since Bruce had moved into her house in Gotham's slums, she couldn't stay in her original rented house. So Catwoman moved to Living Hell. But that was too far from the North District, where she often worked, so she ended up moving into an apartment closer to the north side.
The houses here were relatively old, built shortly after Falcone arrived in Gotham about forty years ago. They were traditional stone structures, with many illegal dwellings built.
When the rain began, Catwoman had just returned from a tour of the North District. Her haul for the day was good, so her mood was high. But when she stood at her apartment door, the gemstone necklace in her pocket scratched her key, forcing her to stand there and unlock it.
As Catwoman diligently untangled the necklace from the key ring, she felt something move in the shadow of the lamp to her right. She paused, retreated slightly, and turned to look, but saw nothing.
"Damn this old house..." Catwoman muttered under her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the moss growing in the brick cracks extend numerous legs and crawl towards the door lock.
"Aaaahhhhh!!!!!!"
A scream rent the sky above the apartment building. Conservatively estimated, the door to Catwoman's apartment took over a hundred slashes in the next three seconds.
A frightened Catwoman's first reaction was not to flee, but to attack the moving moss ferociously. Her response proved serendipitous.
The sparks from the knife blade scared away the moss, which ran into the shadows of the hallway corner like a mouse and disappeared.
Breathing heavily and paling, Catwoman finally realized it wasn't a ghost but a patch of moss. She cursed under her breath and looked at the dark hallway and the still tangled key. She was forced to rush to the corridor window, open it and jump out, climbing up the water pipe to the roof.
Then she saw a fire flicker on the ground. Three mob goons were chasing two trees that had sprouted legs from south to north. A group of children holding torches were chasing vines that kept extending, running from north to south.
"What's happening? How did the plants grow legs?!" Catwoman squinted in surprise.
Catwoman was somewhat afraid of ghosts, but she was afraid of the kind that was invisible but could suddenly jump out of the shadows and scare you.
As long as these things could be attacked, those that should run were those things. This feeling of Catwoman's was the same for most Gothamites. They were afraid of ghosts, but if something could be attacked, then it wasn't a ghost.
As soon as they discovered that the sparks from gun barrels were effective against these mutated plants, the situation changed for Gothamites. Their first reaction was not, "What the hell is this?" but "This is not a ghost at all!"
Perched on the rooftop, Catwoman scratched her head, slightly puzzled by the situation, but knew who could clear it up.
Without hesitation, she ran towards Wayne Manor.