Chereads / Reborn in Armor: Living as Deathstroke in DC / Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Kidnapping

Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Kidnapping

Commissioner Gordon snapped out of his memories. At this moment, he was driving back to the police station.

Returning from Arkham Island to the precinct was no short journey—not only did it involve crossing several bridges and tunnels, but the neighborhoods he passed through weren't particularly safe either, especially with Two-Face and her gang being the most rampant.

Two-Face, Harvey Dent, was Gotham's rising star before she went insane—a famous young prosecutor.

However, her extensive legal knowledge meant that even when Batwoman caught her, she would quickly be paroled. After all, Batwoman couldn't testify against her in court.

Since Batwoman left, Gordon had been on guard, but nothing had happened. Until last week, the precinct received calls for help from citizens, saying that the Circus was causing havoc in the streets—burning, killing, and looting.

He immediately dispatched officers to maintain order and drove to Arkham himself. In the past, when the Circus acted like this, it often meant the Jester had escaped.

But when he arrived at Arkham and passed through multiple layers of security to see the Jester, she was in her cell, wearing a napkin, elegantly sitting cross-legged on the floor, using plastic knife and fork to eat a roasted rat.

He had nothing to say to the Jester. After confirming she was properly locked up, he planned to return to the precinct to continue dealing with the unrest in the city.

Gordon was an experienced detective; such situations didn't make him drop his guard. The Circus's actions made him feel something was off. From that day on, he visited Arkham daily. Only by personally confirming that the Jester was still inside could he feel at ease.

Although the Bat-Signal on the roof of the police station was always lit, it now served only as a deterrent to criminals. The Bat had left; Gotham was now unattended.

Today's visiting time was over. As usual, he didn't speak with the Jester. The whole process involved him quietly watching her through thick bulletproof glass as she drew on the floor of her small room. After a few strokes, she'd seem to think of something, then burst into maniacal laughter. Then she'd draw a few more strokes and dance around the room.

It made him want to rush in and beat her up.

Yes, he hated her, but certain rules only allowed him to do so much.

In this regard, he and Batwoman shared similar views, but they were worlds apart from someone like Deathstroke. People like Cindy and Michael never waited overnight to take revenge.

Gordon didn't wait to see what she was drawing. He had already left the precinct later than usual today because, during the day, someone had called for help, saying that ninjas had appeared in the city and attacked someone.

Gordon spent the entire day and half the night investigating this matter.

Unfortunately, the rain was too heavy; no clues were left behind. Even police dogs couldn't pick up any scent.

It was now past midnight. He should return to GCPD to pick up Barbara and go home. Maybe, on the way, he could buy some donuts or burgers at a gas station as dinner for the two of them. He wasn't sure if the fast-food joint he often passed would be open in this weather.

Driving in the heavy rain was a strange feeling. He couldn't see distant scenery—only the monotonous sound of rain hitting around him.

Gordon turned on the radio but quickly turned it off. The announcer on Gotham City Radio had a sharp and excited voice that reminded him of that lunatic—the one he had just seen.

Maybe someday he should investigate that announcer; he always felt she was part of the Circus.

The lonely journey made Gordon's thoughts wander. He thought about his daughter, so young and already in a wheelchair, and couldn't help but feel heartache and worry. Although she was still so kind and lovely, these regrets always placed her at a disadvantage and inconvenience in life, especially when it came to finding a partner.

The torrential rain outside the car window kept pounding on the windshield. The sound of rainwater flowing down was like waves rising and falling. As Gordon drove, his heart was restless.

Batwoman said there might be a way to heal spinal nerves—what could it be?

She said danger was approaching—what was it?

A few days ago, it was the Circus; today, it was the League of Shadows—what were these people plotting?

With his mind full of questions, Gordon squinted, trying his best to see ahead through the windshield blurred by the heavy rain. He needed to hurry to pick up his daughter and go home; the car couldn't stall due to flooding here.

However, at an intersection ahead, just at the turn, he spotted someone dressed oddly lying by the roadside, submerged in pooled water.

Although it was dark and the rain impaired visibility, he was certain he saw someone collapsed, the heavy rain mercilessly soaking her body.

He slowed down, carefully observing the situation. There were no suspicious individuals; the buildings along the street were all tightly closed. Gotham's residents had long passed the stage of meddling—they would never care about someone lying by the roadside because it could be a scam or a trap.

But in most cases, people collapsed by the roadside were more often truly dead, with causes of death varying widely.

Frozen to death, starved to death, murdered—countless possibilities.

He gradually brought the car to a stop, unfastened his seat belt, tightened his trench coat, and checked his pistol.

As a police officer, even if he was the commissioner, he couldn't ignore someone collapsed by the roadside—that was his duty.

The wind and rain intensified. When he left Arkham, it wasn't like this. Now, visibility was so poor that he could barely see ten meters ahead. The strong wind pushed against the car door, and he had to exert significant effort to get out.

Stepping into ankle-deep water, the cold penetrated to his core.

"Ugh..." The rain-laden wind made Gordon unconsciously lower his head to shield himself, and his glasses were instantly soaked. Everything in his vision became distorted, like looking into a funhouse mirror.

He deeply realized he was getting old; the decline in strength and stamina was something he could feel. Although he was not yet sixty, years of accumulated injuries made every joint ache in rainy weather like this.

Closing the car door, he used one hand to shield his glasses and the other rested on the pistol inside his trench coat at his waist—like an old man clutching his aching back in a storm, slowly moving forward.

As he got closer, he could see more clearly the person lying by the roadside—a young woman wearing clothes made of animal skins, resembling a cavewoman.

Gordon wasn't surprised. When you have a friend who dresses up as a bat every day, driving her bat-like car around ostentatiously, with gadgets called Batarangs, Bat-Belts, Bat-Gloves, Bat-Capes...

You become accustomed to any bizarre attire. Gotham has never lacked for weirdos. But among these people, some are just attending Halloween parties, while others are dangerous individuals.

Judging by the situation of this person by the roadside, Gordon guessed she was the latter.

"Ma'am! Are you conscious? I'm James Gordon from the Gotham City Police Department."

Having determined that the person might be dangerous, the first step was to call out, hoping the other party would stop playing dead and leave immediately.

After calling out, if the other party remained unresponsive, in certain dangerous situations, Gordon would not hesitate to use his gun.

This was Gotham's law enforcement protocol.

The woman by the roadside remained motionless, unresponsive.

Gordon moved a bit closer to observe carefully. The woman's pale face indicated she was already dead, and the rain had slightly bloated her body.

There was a massive wound on her side, cut open by a sharp weapon. This attack destroyed one-third of her internal organs and caused her to bleed to death.

From the current situation, this was not where she was killed; she had been moved here. The deceased had no mud under her fingernails from the vicinity, and no scratches on the soles of her feet, indicating she died in a dry and flat environment. Judging by her attire, it was probably indoors at some upscale club.

But the heavy rain had destroyed most of the evidence; he could only deduce this much. Her entire face was frozen in an expression of dying with open eyes, her gray-white pupils staring blankly at the sky.

Gordon sighed; this meant more work for the police. In Gotham, not only were there crimes committed by lunatics, but ordinary people also killed for various reasons.

He couldn't yet determine the identity of the deceased; he could only call the coroners. Gordon turned and staggered back to the car, intending to make a phone call inside.

But at that moment, the doors of the surrounding buildings suddenly swung open, and a group of people poured out. They wore black suits and old-fashioned felt hats, immediately surrounding Gordon, pointing numerous submachine guns at him.

"Commissioner Gordon, our boss invites you to be our guest."

The leading woman wore a fake smile. Behind her, several black vans pulled up from behind the buildings. She gestured for Gordon to get in.

Gordon took off his glasses, trying not to let his vision be impaired, but his nearsightedness was still a problem.

"Who's your boss? Penguin? Black Mask?"

Only their subordinates would be so indistinct. Although he was being kidnapped, at least the other party was rational. Maybe there was still...

"Oh? It seems Commissioner Gordon has forgotten old friends and only remembers new ones?" The woman smiled, then bared her teeth and delivered a heavy punch to Gordon. "No matter; when you arrive, you'll naturally remember when you see the boss."

Gordon was knocked to the ground by the sudden attack, kneeling in the muddy water by the street. The corpse not far away remained the same, but now he felt that corpse was watching him.

"Her—that woman over there—did you kill her too?" Gordon clutched his abdomen, lying on the ground, staring intently at the woman in black before him.

"Sigh..." The woman in black sighed, looking around at the heavy rain. "Do you still have the mind to worry about a dead person? We've already sent another team to invite your daughter. You should worry whether she'll end up like that corpse... Take him away!"

She loudly ordered her subordinates. The pouring rain couldn't drown out her voice.

So, under the assault of several strong women, Gordon was forced into a black van. The vehicles started one after another, and soon everyone disappeared from the street.

All that was left was Gordon's car and the woman in animal skins lying there, gradually obscured by the curtain of rain.

At this time, Michael and Cindy were still riding hard in the wind and rain. Their enhanced physical abilities meant they didn't feel tired at all in the storm, and they had already covered about 30 kilometers in just ten minutes.

Riding unicycles at speeds over 150 km/h—only Deathstroke or other enhanced individuals could achieve such speeds. If it weren't for the rain today, Michael thought the unicycles' bearings might have started smoking.

Through the dense rain, they could see a tall building not far ahead, with a faintly visible beautiful dome—that was the Gotham City Courthouse. Opposite it, across a small central park, was the Gotham City Police Department.

There wasn't a single pedestrian on the streets. This was the central district, dense with high-end office buildings—a relatively safer area.

On normal days, people liked to bring their families to this park to relax, or workers from nearby would come here for lunch.

But at midnight, it's a different story. Even if the GCPD was right across the street, people would still conduct illegal transactions in the park.

Michael felt as cold as the external environment. The outside temperature was probably only a few degrees—that's how spring nights are in the rain. Water was seeping into every seam of his armor, and the strong wind was rapidly taking away his body heat.

Cindy was still leading a few steps ahead, probably feeling thoroughly chilled by now.

"If I'd known the rain would get heavier, we should have had a few drinks at Harley's before heading out. At least we'd be warmer." He touched the alcohol in his backpack, which he had taken from Wayne Tower.

Cindy, pedaling the unicycle, also sighed: "Indeed, we think alike. Not only do I want a drink now, but I could also go for a hot dog or something."

"The vending machines in the police station should have some. We can break one open when we get there. You have microwaves in your world, right?"

"Of course we have microwaves—common household appliances."

He really didn't understand this world. They had necessary appliances and communication devices, but no aircraft. It was as if this branch of the technology tree was forgotten.

But the two were already planning what to eat when they reached the police station. As long as they knocked out everyone inside and kidnapped Gordon, that would be enough.

Given how diligent he was, with the city in such chaos recently, he was likely working overtime at this hour.

Michael's plan was straightforward: after kidnapping Gordon, they would attack the TV station and use Gordon's safety as leverage on live television to force Batwoman to appear.

Would Bryce stand by and watch Gordon die? Impossible. Even on Earth -11, before Gotham's destruction, Bryce was no different from other Batmen in parallel universes.

In fact, because she was the only superhero in this world, she had an even stronger sense of responsibility. Ultimately, when she lost her family, that sense of responsibility turned into guilt, crushing her.

"Wait, do you hear gunshots over there?"

Through the wind and rain, he vaguely heard noises coming from the direction of GCPD. Since it wasn't thundering during this rain, the continuous rumbling must be explosions or gunfire.

Cindy removed her helmet, listening carefully. Her blonde hair was instantly soaked by the rain, and her expression became serious.

"You're right, and that was a grenade explosion just now, inside the police station."

The two realized that something had changed and accelerated their pace.