With a bang, a corpse dropped in front of King Robin. As he looked up, he saw in the brightly lit window above a pig-headed silhouette raising a Bone Chopper high.
Behind it hung one long object after another, and when one turned around, King Robin could clearly see it was a human arm.
King Robin narrowed his eyes; he was young, and in his time as King Robin, he had never heard of such a criminal in Gotham.
King Robin decided to go up for a look. After all, that guy wanted any information, and it would be enough to fool him with just some seemingly brutal criminal information. The bat-like figure that already seemed monstrous was sufficient to report back, and with this, he could say the mission was perfectly accomplished.
King Robin wanted to find the entrance to the building and then sneak up, but suddenly a golden lightning bolt flashed in front of him, too fast to see even a trace of it.
"The Flash?" King Robin muttered under his breath, but then he reached for his belt and quickly pulled out a small bottle—King Robin called it the "Anti-Speedster Toxin."
This poison could dissolve the Divine Speed and poison its users, specially developed to counteract the Divine Speed force users.
Of course, King Robin had other strategies for Barry Allen, the creator of the Divine Speed. Before coming to this cosmos, he had gone to other universes to find the corpse of The Flash's mother and soaked it in this poison, so that as soon as The Flash rushed to embrace his mother, he would inevitably be poisoned.
Thinking that his early preparations had come into play, King Robin felt a thrill of excitement. After all, there was nothing in this world that could escape his expectations.
Just as King Robin was about to pull out Barry's mother's corpse and had opened the bottle cap to spread more of the Speed Force poison, a flash of golden light zipped past him, quickly followed by two gunshots.
The figure in the midst of the Speed Force stopped, wearing a red uniform but not Barry Allen. He had two sharp ears on his head, and King Robin's forward steps came to a halt.
Another Batman, how lucky he was, but this time he decided to take this Batman back alive to report.
Clutching his weapon tighter, King Robin took another step forward, but then suddenly, another figure appeared at the street corner, Mr. Freeze Victor.
"Stop, Batman. You know in the depths of time you can't chase the truth of all this. You must tell me what you know about that doctor. He's the mastermind behind this fog mystery, the one who turned Gotham into a city of the dead."
King Robin immediately perked up his ears. The question he had just pushed to the back of his mind resurfaced: how had all the people of Gotham lost consciousness, and who did it?
But no matter who did it, King Robin would make them pay. This was supposed to be a grand coronation party, but it turned into an ignored self-love. King Robin would not let off the culprit who caused all this.
"You know it's not that simple," said Lightning Batman, turning to look at Mr. Freeze: "We all understand that all this is related to that fog, but the fog is too strange. However, I think since the time inside is not continuous, there must be an answer deep in time."
"Blindly pursuing the 'Guest in the Fog' will only drag you deeper," said Mr. Freeze: "Anyway, you have to tell me where that doctor is."
"I've made a deal with him, I won't reveal anything about him. You've got the wrong person. I'm leaving."
"You're not going anywhere," a sharp voice came from the side, as King Robin burst out of the alley and stood in front of the two, toying with the Anti-Speedster Toxin gun in his hand: "Believe it or not, this thing in my hand can make you suffer from illness, worse than death. Don't count on the Divine Speed to save you."
The two immediately took a defensive stance, intently watching King Robin. He was pleased with their attitude and said, "Tell me what's going on. Why are all the Gothamites unconscious? What is the fog about? And... who is the doctor?"
"I'm sorry, I can't disclose that," The Flash stepped back and said.
King Robin was about to say you have no choice, but while he was on guard against Lightning Batman, Mr. Freeze Victor suddenly gave King Robin a cold shot.
As he was frozen, King Robin almost laughed. It couldn't be spoken of as overconfidence, nor could it be called a death wish, to expect that little pistol capable of producing ice blocks to pose any real threat to him—stupid and naive.
But in the instant the frost formed, King Robin realized something wasn't right. This was no ordinary ice, but an extremely lethal crystalline substance, and after one of his arms was immobilized, he could not move it at all.
Luckily, King Robin was quick, and before the dense ice could spread to his other arm, he reached into his belt and pulled out a bottle of worm medicine.
The tiny worms that emerged from this medicine could devour any material in this world and would explode after gorging themselves. He immediately sprinkled the medicine, and numerous worms began consuming the dense ice.
Even though these insects were sharp-tongued and could consume almost anything, it still took them a great deal of time to devour this extremely hard material that hardly reacted with the external environment. King Robin worried about his right hand, and didn't take the chance to leave with Lightning Batman and Mr. Freeze. By the time he freed himself, the two of them had long since vanished without a trace.
King Robin screamed in anger, wildly waving his cape and blowing his whistle to command all the Robins on the airship to jump down and search the city for the two bastards.
He himself went to Wayne Tower, which was supposed to be the throne for his coronation in his original plan. However, at this moment it was desolate, with no friends or enemies, just the dead silence and cold flickering lights.
King Robin was of course aware that there was a weather control device here, and that was exactly his purpose for this visit—he would completely destroy the city after being crowned king.
This was of course to punish the uncooperative Batman. King Robin would first destroy his most beloved city and then tear to shreds those little birds he raised, those bastards unworthy of being called Robins. He wanted to hear Batman's regret-filled wailing, to hear him beg for mercy, and then to tell him all his secrets.
Although there was a slight hiccup with the plans in Gotham, it didn't really matter; no one was there to cheer for his coronation ceremony, it just made it a bit dull, King Robin consoled himself. But he believed that the little birds must still be awake, and inviting them to the party would be the crowning touch.
He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the top of Wayne Tower, and turned to look at a crazy Robin, asking, "How is the plan going over in Washington? Have you seen any suspicious planes and people?"
"We've locked onto him," the crazy Robin shouted in a shrill voice. "Twenty minutes ago, he entered Washington airspace with the Batplane. The moment he showed up, he was fully exposed under our surveillance."
Soon he brought over a laptop, and its screen displayed a figure in a Red Hood stealthily approaching the ruins of the Capitol Building.
King Robin's mouth curled into a smile. The Fifth-dimensional Imp wasn't only about lethal force. It could read some thoughts while people were vulnerable. From the memories relayed by the imp, the Robin in the Red Hood was his most beloved little bird. King Robin saw love, guilt, and many more complex emotions in those memories.
As long as he could hook this little bird and use him to threaten Batman, there was no fear of Batman remaining obstinate to the end.
Watching as he was about to step onto the ground trap he had laid, King Robin's smile grew even more triumphant, as if he already saw the Red Hood being impaled.
He had his subordinates bring popcorn and drinks, then sat at the bar, holding the computer and watching with relish.
But just as the Red Hood was about to step on it and the sharp ground spikes shot out, the Red Hood swiftly extended his hand in one direction, a strand of Spider Silk shot from his wrist, firmly sticking to the ceiling. The Red Hood smoothly swung, avoiding the trap and landing on the other side.
The popcorn fell from King Robin's hand.
Inside Wayne Manor, Little Spider, who had been stripped down to just a pair of pants, was shivering and curling up in a corner of the room. With his spider eyes wide open in an expression of pity, he said, "I told you, you must have misunderstood. I would never do such a thing. How could I possibly have used poison to take down the entire city? You must be mistaken!"
"Give me my equipment back!" he shouted. "It's the latest version of the Spider Legion standard gear, and I only have this set. Don't lose it, I'll get scolded!"
"Don't worry, we'll return it after using it," Nightwing and Robin said as they busied themselves adjusting the device to monitor Arkham Knight's vital signs, but the serious look on their faces suggested the situation was not optimistic.
"This is a problem," Jason said. "We can't keep him here indefinitely with tranquilizers; the side effects are too severe, and we don't have that much medication."
"Hey, remember?" Barbara suggested. "A psychiatrist cured Jason before. Shouldn't we go find him now?"
Hearing 'psychiatrist', Jason's face became complex. Although he didn't know much about the Arkham Universe, any psychiatrist appearing in these universes was very likely—or rather, certainly—to be Shiller.
Shiller had come with them before, but now there was no word from him. Jason surmised that his absence wasn't because he was unaware of the Arkham Knight's condition, but because he had other plans.
What was Shiller up to now?
Barbara adjusted the equipment and said, "King Robin indeed went to Wayne Tower. We were right, the surveillance has already captured him. Now let's watch Red Hood's performance."
They exchanged a knowing smile, but King Robin could no longer smile. On his computer screen, Red Hood nimbly dodged the trap and, muttering to himself, retracted the Spider Silk Launcher and said.
"Who knows where this little brat came from, what era is it still using ground spike traps? Couldn't he be some old relic dug out from a medieval temple?"