Gotham's nights always seemed the same. In the skyscrapers of the city center, upscale restaurants and nightclubs were never short of patrons. They lavishly spent wads of cash in exchange for physical or mental pleasure—like dining on a meal that could cost a poor person half their life's savings or indulging in the wanton play with young men of ill repute.
Not far from these buildings, in the alleys, screams and gunshots could be heard from time to time. In the darkness, evil always reigned.
Any criminal act could be seen in Gotham, no matter how bizarre the crime itself or the perpetrator. Gotham was a living museum of modern criminal history.
Chaos and order were intertwined; the black-and-white world had long faded, leaving only shades of gray.
Gotham's nights never changed—at least, they never got any better.
Having worked here for thirty years, James Gordon deeply understood this.
He started as a humble homicide detective, rose to captain, and eventually became commissioner. As a man, his journey was fraught with difficulty.
Not only because there was some degree of discrimination against men in the workplace in this world but also because everyone knew he was an upright and incorruptible person. In a city where truly innocent people were scarce, everyone was more or less entangled with the darkness.
The mayor was a regular at the Penguin's Iceberg Lounge; senators were stealing drugs from Arkham to sell to Scarecrow; the chief justice was the former boss of Two-Face; Black Mask openly operated chemical plants as fronts for drug production under the guise of the Gotham Research Institute.
In such a city, the fact that he could become the police commissioner without being taken out sometimes felt like a miracle to him.
But reason always reminded him that it wasn't a miracle. It was because, behind him, there was always a shadow in the darkness.
That shadow came and went without a trace, hating evil with a passion.
When the law couldn't reach, or when the police were powerless, she would step in. There were those who tried to kill Gordon, but there was always a woman in a bat costume who dissuaded them.
Fear.
Yes, anyone with darkness in their heart feared the bat in the shadows. She was meticulous, agile, omnipresent, and never hesitated.
When Gordon was still a captain, Batwoman appeared for the first time. Initially, he was resistant to this masked vigilante.
He couldn't just let someone roam the city with a masked face, beating people up at will, just because they claimed to be a good person. He had to see whether her actions genuinely benefited public safety and didn't make the city even more chaotic.
In those days, Gotham was far from what it was now. Mafia families, led by crime lord Falcone, were spread throughout the city. Even half of the police force were corrupt.
Drugs, smuggling, arms, slavery—they did whatever made money, with officials providing them protection.
Gordon tried to arrest these mobsters but always faced heavy resistance. That's when Batwoman helped him. She used force to obtain evidence, took down officials colluding with the mob, allowing Gordon to use the law to punish them.
In the end, when Gordon had his final showdown with Falcone, the Bat shattered Falcone's confidence, completely defeating this crime lord and bringing sunlight to Gotham.
From then on, Gordon turned a blind eye to Batwoman's activities.
Her actions indeed benefited Gotham and its people. As for dressing like a bat—that might just be a personal hobby.
Thinking back to those days, Gordon couldn't help but show a slight smile.
"Captain Gordon, we heard that the bank robbers last night were taken down by a strange woman in a bat costume. What's the police's stance on this?" Reporters swarmed the entrance of the police station. There, Captain Gordon was escorting prisoners from the police car.
"Absurd! Utterly absurd! There's no such person in Gotham dressed in a bat suit," Gordon declared righteously.
"But we have video evidence," the reporters persisted, insisting they had solid proof.
"Fabricated! All fabricated! On behalf of the Gotham Police Department, I express serious concern and strong condemnation!" Gordon immediately said sternly.
But after locking up the criminals, he would sneak up to the storage room on the rooftop and secretly call Batwoman to complain—saying things like how she'd caused a big scene again and asking if she could avoid surveillance cameras next time.
Back then, Batwoman was more approachable and restrained in her actions.
But as time went on, the emergence of Batwoman became known, attracting others who shared her interests. Unfortunately, these masked individuals were all villains and lunatics, which rapidly deteriorated Gotham's security situation.
After that, when people called the police, it was no longer about bank robberies or home burglaries. Instead, it was massive incidents aiming to drag the entire city into hell.
For example, some lunatic would hide a nuclear warhead in the city center, wanting a one-on-one showdown with Batwoman, or someone would kidnap hostages in hundreds of buildings to play a riddle game with her.
Fortunately, Batwoman ultimately resolved these issues. But inevitably, opponents emerged in the city, believing that the Bat had attracted all the world's villains to Gotham.
Batwoman didn't bother to explain and continued her ways, becoming even more ruthless.
By then, Gordon had become commissioner. He immediately ordered a Bat-Signal to be installed on the police station rooftop, no longer hiding it. Whenever the Bat-Signal lit up, it meant he had something to discuss with Batwoman—another new lunatic had arrived in the city, requiring her intervention.
Yes, from that point on, the criminals that appeared were no longer ones the police could handle. They had to rely on Batwoman. The police's role was to wait for Gordon's orders and, afterward, clean up the criminals Batwoman left behind—who were often unconscious or crippled.
At least back then, though Gotham was dangerous, people weren't like they are today. At least then, people still had beautiful hopes in their hearts.
Until Batwoman's greatest adversary arrived.
No one knew where she came from. She had long green hair, a deathly pale face, and always wore an exaggerated smile—which she liked to carve onto others' faces with a knife.
She did a few big things, showing people how crazy she was, and also telling them that madness was a good thing.
No more worrying about death, hunger, or poverty—just laugh happily every day!
She planted the seeds of madness deep in the hearts of Gotham's people, patiently and slyly waiting for them to sprout. Occasionally, she'd do some "helping the shoots grow" to make it more fun.
She and Batwoman became entangled, being caught countless times and escaping countless times. It was as if the city had become their stage; she just wanted all of Batwoman's attention focused on her.
Until half a year ago, the Jester thought of a new game, planning to invite Gordon to play a role. But during the kidnapping process, something went wrong. Gordon's daughter, Barbara, was shot in the spine, becoming paraplegic, doomed to spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair.
In the end, the Jester was caught by the Bat again. Gordon wanted to kill her to avenge his daughter, but Batwoman blocked the gun, telling him not to be fooled by the Jester, not to be controlled by madness, not to lose his principles.
Gordon ultimately put down the gun, choosing to act according to the law. And the law had no verdict for the insane—only confinement in Arkham for treatment.
But who could cure the Jester? The doctor who once treated her was instead influenced by her, becoming today's Harley Quinn—not only helping the Jester escape but also together creating the monster known as Two-Face.
Since then, Arkham no longer assigned doctors to the Jester.
This time, it seemed the Jester was tired of playing; she stayed quietly in Arkham and hadn't stirred for a long time.
Based on past experience, when the Jester was caught, Harley Quinn would become like a lost soul, completely calming down. So neither Batwoman nor Gordon was too concerned about not capturing Harley last time. It was better this way; if both were locked up in Arkham together, it might cause more trouble.
About half a month before Michael arrived...
Gordon woke up from a nightmare as usual, shook his head, and fumbled for his glasses. He realized he wasn't tied to a roller coaster in an amusement park by the Jester, didn't have to face scenes of madness, but was in his own bed at home.
Cold sweat soaked the sheets. The slightly open window let in gusts of wind, lifting the curtains high.
The digital clock on the bedside table told him it was only 4 AM. He'd only been asleep for less than two hours, but his dreams were filled with scenes of Barbara lying in a pool of blood, while the Jester laughed maniacally.
Gordon's first wife had divorced him, left Gotham and their daughter, and disappeared without a trace. His second wife, a police officer, was killed by the Jester while saving infants during a mission.
Apart from the Jester, they often appeared in Gordon's nightmares. Now, his only daughter, who depended on him, had been crippled by the Jester.
Gordon had more reason than anyone to go mad, but he didn't. He still upheld justice and the law.
He took the gun from under his pillow, first closed the unlatched window tightly, then carefully checked every room to prevent any intruders. Finally, he came to Barbara's bedroom door.
Gently pushing it open, by moonlight, he saw his daughter sleeping soundly in bed. Only then did he relax, tucking the pistol behind his waist and heading to the kitchen for a drink.
There wasn't much in the fridge. When Barbara was still healthy, she took care of household chores. Gordon was too busy to have time for grocery shopping.
After searching for a while, he only found half a carton of milk—probably not expired yet—to moisten his throat.
As he drank the milk and closed the fridge door, suddenly, a person appeared behind it, startling him so much he nearly dropped the milk.
"Next time you go to sleep, you'd better close your windows first."
"Pu—damn it! Batwoman, can't you make some noise when you appear? You always show up so suddenly; you'll scare me to death!" Gordon spat out the milk in his mouth. Batwoman agilely dodged; not a drop landed on her cape.
"Because... I'm Batwoman!" the visitor replied expressionlessly, her voice obviously altered by a voice changer.
"I know who you are—who you really are—I just don't say it!" Gordon grumbled, looking for a cloth to clean the floor. "It's 4 AM, and all the lunatics are locked up. Can't you let me have a good night's sleep? Don't you have anything else to do at night?"
Batwoman completely ignored these words. Everyone knew that Bryce Wayne was a wealthy but useless heiress. People in the city thought she spent every night in debauchery, indulging in revelry. But in reality, those were actors she hired, part of her facade.
She got straight to the point: "I have to leave Gotham for a while. If I stay, it'll endanger everyone."
"Oh? Another lunatic? I'll call the precinct right away." Gordon sighed, dropping the cloth and reaching for his phone.
"I don't know yet—still searching for clues."
Batwoman shook her head, hiding in the darkness. Her bat cape made her blend entirely into the shadows, but Gordon, familiar with her, could guess her current appearance.
"Then how do you know there's danger?" Gordon was puzzled.
"Someone told me. In some ways, he's very credible." Batwoman seemed to touch something in her pocket but didn't take it out to show Gordon. "You and Barbara should leave with me immediately; otherwise, those lunatics will use you to flush me out."
Gordon was silent. After a moment, he shook his head: "No, I'm the police commissioner of Gotham. I will never leave. No matter who it is, if they want to cause trouble in Gotham, they'll have to kill me first."
"Are you sure? Even though I don't know the specifics, from what I've learned so far, the danger is far beyond anything before," Bryce tried to persuade. "Maybe you could take a month's leave; we can take Barbara to find doctors around the world."
"No, I won't go. You take Barbara; I'll stay here," Gordon said firmly. If Batwoman left and he also left, Gotham would be finished. Perhaps overnight, his thirty years of hard work would be in vain. "Even if they kill me, you must not come back."
"I won't leave either. If my dad can stay, then as a woman, I have even less reason to run."
It was Barbara. Since being crippled by the Jester, although her life was secure, the pain in her waist often made it hard for her to sleep. Coupled with constant tension, any slight noise would wake her. This time, hearing the conversation in the kitchen, she came out from her room in her wheelchair.
"Barbara, you might want to reconsider. Maybe..." Bryce began.
"No need. Even the Jester didn't kill me; others won't either. I'll stay here with my dad. I think the police station's communications room is relatively safe, and I can utilize my computer skills."
Barbara declined her offer, indicating she would stand with Gotham to the end.
Bryce hesitated. Seeing the two so determined, even she wanted to stay. But the mysterious person had told her that if she continued to stay in Gotham, not only this city but the entire Earth would be in danger. She had to leave.
With a swirl of her cape, she left Gordon's home, heading to meet Alfred, who was waiting for her.
Gordon hugged Barbara and cried for a while, strengthening his resolve. He solemnly spoke into the darkness:
"We won't leave, Batwoman. Go do what you need to do. I... wait, she left again? Why can't she ever let me finish?"
Gordon was helpless. Once again, Batwoman had appeared and disappeared suddenly, just like hundreds or thousands of times before. He'd never heard a goodbye from her.
"Because that's how Batwoman is. Can you take me back to my room, Dad?" Barbara yawned, covering her mouth.