After finishing today's task, Charlie couldn't help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. He had gained a lot of new fans—fans in various senses of the word.
First of all, there was the Spider-Man craze in Riverton City. The local hero's deeds had spread across the city like wildfire within a single day. Spider-Man's actions, from his acrobatic leaps to his heroic efforts, had garnered admiration from citizens, and Charlie blindly guessed that Spider-Man's latest feat—stopping a runaway train with his bare hands—must have sent the authorities spiraling into disarray. If the officials weren't already pulling their hair out, this would certainly drive them over the edge.
It wasn't just the city's law enforcement struggling to keep up. Every few days, some new spectacle would take place, refreshing the public's perspective and sending ripples of disbelief through government offices, media outlets, and expert panels alike. The upper management and specialists were sleepless, trying to figure out what would happen next.
But Spider-Man wasn't the only one stirring up the city. The pressure had also mounted on the underworld and various assassins operating within Grace City.
For several days, a combination of Batgirl and Daredevil had been active, disrupting street crimes and gradually gaining notoriety. The duo had gone beyond urban legend status, but their activity had remained in the shadows, never making enough noise to shake the city's criminal foundations. That changed when they finally made a major move, clashing with six elite killers from the infamous Black Sun organization.
The public didn't know the full extent of what had transpired, but what they did know was enough to make headlines. The six assassins had been dealt with, but the credit—and the blame—fell squarely on Director Linton, the newly appointed chief of Grace City's FBI.
This, Charlie knew, was only the beginning.
Charlie suspected that the attention of more top-tier killers would soon turn to Director Linton. He had a sinking feeling that Linton's days of navigating life without peril were over. The chief was now in the crosshairs of the underworld, and Charlie had a premonition that the journey of constant ambushes, attacks, and near-death experiences had just begun.
For Charlie, this was nothing more than an opportunity—a wellspring of experience and rewards. He had already set Daredevil on Auto-Hack mode earlier, using the character to collect experience points while observing his surroundings. But he made sure to extend his actions to include one critical area: the route that Director Linton frequently traveled from his FBI office to his residence.
Linton had unknowingly become a walking trap, serving as the bait that lured in top killers. The world's most dangerous killers would line up, and all he had to do was harvest the rewards, one after another.
And for Charlie, this was almost effortless.
However, Charlie's primary focus remained on the Grove Group, which had recently surfaced as a suspicious entity. After multiple sources had pointed the finger at the group, claiming it was tied to shady activities within the city, Charlie had only half-believed the allegations. He had already grown suspicious of Grace City's authorities—particularly the Ninth Special Service Division—and the asylum had always struck him as a place riddled with secrets.
When it came to Grove, Charlie wasn't sure who to trust, but he knew one thing for certain: there was no concrete evidence yet. He wasn't ready to jump to conclusions.
Charlie had already infiltrated the asylum once before, gaining access and becoming familiar with its inner workings. Now that he had laid the groundwork, his next step was to confirm the Grove Group's intentions and true nature.
Friday's investigation into the pharmaceutical group was revealing. Charlie realized that there was indeed some truth to the rumors—the Grove Group wasn't just a shady business. There was a secret government agency hidden within it.
Over the past two days, the Ninth Special Service Division had been negotiating with the group, but the details remained unclear. It seemed the waters ran deeper than anyone anticipated.
More shocking, however, was the revelation that the agency within Grove had ties to the CIA, specifically a specialized arm of the agency known as the Bureau of Special Intelligence and Investigation. The bureau had been established to investigate supernatural phenomena—things like cursed relics, haunted antiques, and even ghost sightings. Originally, Grove was nothing more than a cover for the bureau's work.
But over time, it seemed the agency had overreached its bounds. What had once been an organization dedicated to investigating the unknown had become something far more sinister.
And the name—Grove—felt like a bad omen to Charlie. It seemed backward, unlucky, and a warning sign of disaster. It was as though they had jinxed themselves by using that name for their operations.
The identity of the Bureau of Special Intelligence and Investigation solidified Charlie's concerns, forcing him to reevaluate their allegations.
The Ninth Special Service Division had its problems, and those were undeniable. Ever since Phantom had first appeared, the asylum's response to this otherworldly threat had been lackluster. Rather than fighting back, they seemed content to lie down and wait for someone else to handle the crisis.
But despite the asylum's incompetence, Charlie couldn't dismiss the possibility that Grove had a legitimate claim. The situation was complex, and jumping to conclusions would be dangerous.
After all, ever since he had infiltrated the asylum, Charlie had been sifting through layers of secrets, trying to distinguish fact from fiction. The challenge now was figuring out which high-ranking officials could be trusted—and which might be the insider.
According to the Grove Group, the mole was likely a high-level individual—someone with decision-making power. Most of the senior officials at the asylum had private servers, and Charlie knew that infiltrating these servers could be the key to finding the mole.
His first target was obvious: Professor Miyazaki.
Professor Miyazaki had been on Charlie's radar for a while. Even without the Grove Group's accusations, Miyazaki had always struck Charlie as someone suspicious. The professor's obsession with research seemed to outweigh his sense of morality, and Charlie couldn't ignore the strange circumstances surrounding Miyazaki's encounter with Phantom. The professor had survived a shot to the head—a wound that should have been fatal.
It wasn't just Charlie's instincts telling him to suspect Miyazaki. His history, his actions, and his demeanor all pointed toward something off-kilter.
Locating Professor Miyazaki's private laboratory, however, wasn't easy. His facility was top-secret, hidden underground. Few knew where it was, but that wasn't a problem for Friday. She quickly located it.
The lab was buried beneath layers of high-tech security, designed to keep intruders out. But for Batman, there was no need to use the front door.
Like a bat flying silently through the night, Batman glided toward the facility's location. Using detective mode, he pinpointed the lab's exact coordinates and, with a quick maneuver, adjusted his cape to slow his descent.
"Alan mode activated," came the prompt as Batman approached the facility.
In an instant, Batman phased through the layers of metal and earth, bypassing the barriers entirely. Using his shockwave ability, he created a controlled burst of force, allowing him to penetrate the underground facility. His descent was seamless, his cape helping to slow his landing as he arrived in the lab.
His black boots touched down on the metal floor without a sound.
Normally, the lab's motion sensors would have triggered alarms, sending a direct alert to Professor Miyazaki's phone and activating the lab's defense systems. Turrets would have emerged, high-voltage electricity would have surged through the floors and walls, and any intruder would have been obliterated within seconds.
But none of that happened.
Batman had already hacked into the control center before he even entered the facility. The sensors had been disabled, neutralized before they could react.
As always, Batman followed the code of preparation before action—never charging in unprepared. It was a principle Charlie had learned through years of playing.
His next obstacle was the elevator—the only direct route to the lab's control center. The elevator was secured by multiple layers of authentication: facial recognition, retinal scanning, and voiceprint verification.
But again, Batman was ready.
"Holographic camouflage system activated," came the quiet response from his suit.
A ripple of light swept over Batman's body, and within seconds, his appearance transformed. Now, instead of the gray-black armor, he was the spitting image of Professor Miyazaki, complete with the professor's white lab coat and ID badge.
He approached the elevator and pressed the button. A laser swept across his fabricated face, scanning his retinal data.
All green.
Finally, an artificial intelligence voice chimed, "Good evening, Professor Miyazaki."
To the untrained eye, it might have seemed like a routine greeting, but Batman knew better. This was the final test—the voiceprint verification system. If Batman failed to respond, the system would lock down, sending an immediate alert to Miyazaki.
But Charlie was always prepared.
Batman reached into his cloak, producing a voiceprint simulation device. He pressed a button, and Professor Miyazaki's voice played in perfect sync.
"Good evening," the recording echoed.
"Certification successful," the AI replied, its tone warm and welcoming. "Have a nice night, Professor Miyazaki."
The elevator doors slid open, and Batman stepped inside, descending into the hidden depths of the lab.