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Gotham is a black page.
It's the white words written on black paper, the path you pursue, only to stumble endlessly.
It feels like the opening line of the last story in your life.
"Batman: Gotham Impressions"
Zizi—
The Gotham Gazette's broadcast crackled to life:
"The tense standoff between the Ventriloquist and the police at the Gotham Evidence Bureau has lasted three hours. Experts believe..."
As always, Gotham's chaos stemmed from its unique brand of madness. Arkham's inmates, freaks drawn to each other, created a never-ending cycle of disaster. And at the center of it all—Batman.
"So far, Batman has not arrived on the scene, and reports suggest he may not be able to. Wait... breaking news! Batman has been sighted! Rumors of Batman's death at the hands of Bane remain unconfirmed."
It was a rainy June night in Gotham. The square in front of the Gotham Evidence Bureau was louder than usual, buzzing with protestors, reporters, and the ever-present drizzle.
Before Chen Tao's Batmobile could even park, a swarm of reporters surrounded the vehicle like flies drawn to carrion. The crowd pushed against protestors holding signs reading "We Don't Want Batman" and police struggling to maintain order.
Camera flashes pierced through the chaos.
"Batman, any comment on the rumors that you were killed by Bane?"
"What's your response to the Ventriloquist's demands?"
"Batman, why are you stepping into the spotlight this time? This isn't like you."
"You freak! It's all your fault! That lunatic in there—do you understand? You attract them!"
A protestor lunged toward the Batmobile but was quickly subdued by the police. Amidst the shouting, camera clicks, and drizzle, Chen Tao opened the Batmobile's roof and inhaled the damp night air.
For the first time in a long while, he felt nervous.
As an actor in his previous life, he was no stranger to the spotlight. But tonight felt different.
Chen Tao sighed. Traveling to the DC Universe was supposed to be thrilling—he'd been confident he could handle anything as a diehard comic book fan. Yet, becoming Batman himself? That was an entirely different beast.
What happened to just hugging a superhero's thigh for survival? Why did he have to become the thigh?
Batman, the only Justice League member without superpowers, was arguably the most dangerous human on Earth. Billionaire, genius, combat expert, and a will as unyielding as steel. He punched Darkseid and outwitted gods.
But what did any of that have to do with Chen Tao, a time traveler with zero qualifications?
The only thing he and Bruce Wayne had in common was being orphans.
And if that wasn't bad enough, he hadn't just landed in Batman's life—he'd landed in hell mode: the timeline of "Knightfall." The Dark Knight was on the brink of one of his most devastating defeats. Bane was about to shatter his spine.
Escape seemed like an option, but Chen Tao quickly dismissed the idea. Knowing Batman's identity made him a target. Leaving Gotham would be suicide. And when Bane inevitably took over the city, survival would be impossible.
Chen Tao's eyes shifted to a faint silver line of text visible only to him:
[The Alfred Protocol is taking effect!]
[Warning! You'll need at least one anchor point to sync Batman's memories!]
Damn it. What did other time travelers get? Systems that handed them overpowered abilities? A Batcave stocked with platinum kryptonite to turn them into Superman? All he got was this cryptic nonsense—and no access to Bruce Wayne's memories.
Three days into this new life, and he was still clueless. Even the Batcave's toilet paper failed to spark any revelations.
"Batman!"
The familiar voice of Commissioner Gordon pulled him from his thoughts. Gordon approached, soaked and disheveled, dark circles under his eyes and hair plastered to his forehead. He looked like a man on the verge of a breakdown.
"Oh my god, Batman, you're alive! I swear I saw Bane snap your neck! Tell me you're not just some joker who looted the Bat's closet!"
"The games end here, Gordon," Chen Tao replied, cutting off the probing remarks. His body may have been real, but his soul was an imposter. Sharp minds like Gordon's were a threat he couldn't afford to ignore.
Chen Tao turned his gaze toward the Gotham Evidence Bureau, silent in the rain. It was time to act.
As a fan of American comics, Chen Tao knew Gotham's villains inside out. His plan was risky but simple: manipulate the weaker or less stable ones to serve as pawns against Bane. It was a long shot, but it was all he had.
"Did you bring what I asked for?"
Gordon hesitated before holding up an evidence bag. Inside was Scarface, the Ventriloquist's puppet, its scarred face twisted into a sinister grin.
"Well, give it to me."
Reluctantly, Gordon handed it over. Chen Tao exhaled in relief and decided to offer a quick explanation:
"The rumors are wrong. The Batman Bane killed wasn't me—it was my disciple, the Angel of Death."
"Sure, sure," Gordon muttered, wisely avoiding further questions.
Chen Tao gave him a hard look. "We'll discuss this later."
Grabbing a large satchel from the Batmobile, he clutched Scarface tightly and strode toward the Bureau's entrance, ignoring the stares of protestors, reporters, and police.
Under his breath, he whispered:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the stage is set, the actors are in place...
Let the performance begin."