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Night fell. The bustling Gotham City was still filled with clamor. Even as those who had toiled all day gradually succumbed to sleep, it did not quell the city's vibrant nightlife.
Crime had become a distant memory. People gradually grew accustomed to leaving their homes without carrying guns. They drank as they always had, drunkenly expressing their admiration and gratitude for the new mayor.
Amidst the neon lights and revelry, a phantom-like figure silently glided across the city's sky. He spread his arms, his massive cape fluttering in the strong wind. Like a bat in the night, he was silent, quietly watching over the city's inhabitants.
Five years had passed since Batman left this city. Tonight, he quietly reappeared.
The Joker's actions had crossed his bottom line. He had been worried sick ever since he received news of the Joker's prison break. When the Joker reappeared a short time ago to declare war on Batman, his heart filled with a sense of foreboding.
He had to stop the Joker, to prevent him from killing again. He had to protect this city's hard-won peace.
One could not understand how hard-won this city's peace was without having lived through the era of the Falcone and Falcon crime families.
Batman stood atop a skyscraper, the cool wind blowing against him, his cold eyes gazing down on everything.
He was well aware that this city was teeming with Tony's minions. From the mayor to mid-level officials, from the Gangs to the public, Tony's cold eyes were watching from every hidden corner.
But the fact remained: this Batman, who still revered the law, was not yet the ruthless, indiscriminate killer known as the Middle-aged Batman, much less the Elderly Batman, whose methods grew more extreme with age, resorting to killing at the slightest provocation.
Well, although he was over thirty and rapidly approaching middle age, his views had not yet become extreme.
The Middle-aged Batman, who brutally beat criminals and cruelly branded them with a searing Batarang, was not far from who he was now.
He never wanted to kill, but reality would constantly force him down another path.
Perhaps things would change after he met and joined forces with Clark.
High in the cold sky, Batman remained motionless, watching everything with indifference.
Suddenly, a small drone flew up, circling before him. For a moment, the Dark Knight felt a fleeting sense of daze. Once, when he had retired, the man who changed Gotham City had stood on a drone just like this, flying to the top of a skyscraper to have a final conversation with him.
Oh, and he had maliciously offered him a cigarette. He still had that cigarette; the saliva left on it was convenient for creating the second-generation Anti-Tony Armor.
Although it might be useless, his heart, always filled with insecurity and suspicion, had inexplicably compelled him to keep the cigarette.
He didn't smoke, but it might come in handy.
This was the kind of man Batman was. He could face life and death with you, be your most reliable and trustworthy companion in battle, and you could entrust your back to him without hesitation. But he would never stop researching ways to counter you, always retaining the ability to kill you at a critical moment.
It was a contradiction, but it was this very contradiction that constituted Batman's soul, one that walked the line between light and darkness. His body was in the darkness, his heart yearned for the light, yet he was doomed to forever wander in the crevice between them.
The sound of the drone pulled Batman back to reality from his thoughts. After a momentary daze, he subconsciously went on guard, his fingers ready to move at any moment, to launch an attack with the machine in his forearm armor.
Boom!
The drone suddenly exploded. A dazzling spark lit up hundreds of meters in the air, incredibly conspicuous against the pitch-black night sky.
Fierce flames engulfed the black figure.
The sound reached the ground, becoming a dull thud mixed with the honking of cars.
A pedestrian looked up and cursed, "Who's setting off fireworks at this hour? Are they nuts?" After cursing, he hurried away.
The explosion wasn't powerful, just enough to engulf Batman's figure. At the last possible second, Batman raised his hands to cover his chin and eyes. Enduring the edge of the flames, he retreated like a cheetah, his swift movements comparable to the finest athletes on a track.
But this series of actions was far, far inferior to how he was five years ago.
Like a rusted machine, its rust-spotted parts turned with a degree of stiffness, becoming sluggish and slow.
To top-tier predators, this was practically riddled with openings.
"Heh..."
A low chuckle, filled with amusement and contempt, echoed. A dozen figures appeared abruptly. They had climbed and hidden on all sides, revealing not the slightest sign of life, successfully deceiving Batman.
Now, they all charged out, swarming toward Batman.
It was as if they had been lying in wait for a long time, just for Batman to appear so they could surround and kill him.
"League of Shadows..."
Batman's heart sank. The agile figures, the familiar movements—they all reminded Batman of an enemy from long ago.
Unharmed by the small explosion, Batman lowered his arms. He sniffed the lingering chemical scent, becoming even more certain of the suspicion in his heart.
"Hehehe, the Dark Knight returns to Gotham City. This is big news." The newcomer was tall and lithe, clapping as they walked.
"Sandra, long time no see. For the famous Lady Shiva to enter Gotham City without permission is not a good thing. It will only cause unnecessary misunderstandings." Batman's expression remained unchanged, but his heart sank, and his vigilance heightened.
Once, Bruce, the noble scion of Gotham City, disappeared for eight years. To understand the criminal mind, he spent his days in the company of criminals, robbing and stealing. In those days, Bruce was no different from the rest, learning and understanding until he became a most excellent criminal.
That was until he was discovered by Ra's al Ghul, who took him from a group of criminals to be trained.
In the League of Shadows, Bruce completed his transformation from a noble scion into the Dark Knight.
But the outcome was far from wonderful. Bruce fled the League of Shadows, which clashed with his ideals, and in the ensuing fight, caused the death of the previous "Ra's al Ghul" who had been pushed to the forefront.
A year later, with Gotham City as his battlefield, he fought and defeated the current Ra's al Ghul—he didn't know that this Ra's al Ghul possessed the waters of resurrection and could not truly die.
At least, not by the hands of his younger self.
But now, the League of Shadows seemed to have made a comeback. Their target was still Gotham City, and they had directly dispatched the world's top assassin, Lady Shiva.
"You shouldn't have come back to Gotham City. This city is very dangerous for you."
Batman warned in his hoarse voice.
(end of chapter)
Crime had become a distant memory. People gradually grew accustomed to leaving their homes without carrying guns. They drank as they always had, drunkenly expressing their admiration and gratitude for the new mayor.
Amidst the neon lights and revelry, a phantom-like figure silently glided across the city's sky. He spread his arms, his massive cape fluttering in the strong wind. Like a bat in the night, he was silent, quietly watching over the city's inhabitants.
Five years had passed since Batman left this city. Tonight, he quietly reappeared.
The Joker's actions had crossed his bottom line. He had been worried sick ever since he received news of the Joker's prison break. When the Joker reappeared a short time ago to declare war on Batman, his heart filled with a sense of foreboding.
He had to stop the Joker, to prevent him from killing again. He had to protect this city's hard-won peace.
One could not understand how hard-won this city's peace was without having lived through the era of the Falcone and Falcon crime families.
Batman stood atop a skyscraper, the cool wind blowing against him, his cold eyes gazing down on everything.
He was well aware that this city was teeming with Tony's minions. From the mayor to mid-level officials, from the Gangs to the public, Tony's cold eyes were watching from every hidden corner.
But the fact remained: this Batman, who still revered the law, was not yet the ruthless, indiscriminate killer known as the Middle-aged Batman, much less the Elderly Batman, whose methods grew more extreme with age, resorting to killing at the slightest provocation.
Well, although he was over thirty and rapidly approaching middle age, his views had not yet become extreme.
The Middle-aged Batman, who brutally beat criminals and cruelly branded them with a searing Batarang, was not far from who he was now.
He never wanted to kill, but reality would constantly force him down another path.
Perhaps things would change after he met and joined forces with Clark.
High in the cold sky, Batman remained motionless, watching everything with indifference.
Suddenly, a small drone flew up, circling before him. For a moment, the Dark Knight felt a fleeting sense of daze. Once, when he had retired, the man who changed Gotham City had stood on a drone just like this, flying to the top of a skyscraper to have a final conversation with him.
Oh, and he had maliciously offered him a cigarette. He still had that cigarette; the saliva left on it was convenient for creating the second-generation Anti-Tony Armor.
Although it might be useless, his heart, always filled with insecurity and suspicion, had inexplicably compelled him to keep the cigarette.
He didn't smoke, but it might come in handy.
This was the kind of man Batman was. He could face life and death with you, be your most reliable and trustworthy companion in battle, and you could entrust your back to him without hesitation. But he would never stop researching ways to counter you, always retaining the ability to kill you at a critical moment.
It was a contradiction, but it was this very contradiction that constituted Batman's soul, one that walked the line between light and darkness. His body was in the darkness, his heart yearned for the light, yet he was doomed to forever wander in the crevice between them.
The sound of the drone pulled Batman back to reality from his thoughts. After a momentary daze, he subconsciously went on guard, his fingers ready to move at any moment, to launch an attack with the machine in his forearm armor.
Boom!
The drone suddenly exploded. A dazzling spark lit up hundreds of meters in the air, incredibly conspicuous against the pitch-black night sky.
Fierce flames engulfed the black figure.
The sound reached the ground, becoming a dull thud mixed with the honking of cars.
A pedestrian looked up and cursed, "Who's setting off fireworks at this hour? Are they nuts?" After cursing, he hurried away.
The explosion wasn't powerful, just enough to engulf Batman's figure. At the last possible second, Batman raised his hands to cover his chin and eyes. Enduring the edge of the flames, he retreated like a cheetah, his swift movements comparable to the finest athletes on a track.
But this series of actions was far, far inferior to how he was five years ago.
Like a rusted machine, its rust-spotted parts turned with a degree of stiffness, becoming sluggish and slow.
To top-tier predators, this was practically riddled with openings.
"Heh..."
A low chuckle, filled with amusement and contempt, echoed. A dozen figures appeared abruptly. They had climbed and hidden on all sides, revealing not the slightest sign of life, successfully deceiving Batman.
Now, they all charged out, swarming toward Batman.
It was as if they had been lying in wait for a long time, just for Batman to appear so they could surround and kill him.
"League of Shadows..."
Batman's heart sank. The agile figures, the familiar movements—they all reminded Batman of an enemy from long ago.
Unharmed by the small explosion, Batman lowered his arms. He sniffed the lingering chemical scent, becoming even more certain of the suspicion in his heart.
"Hehehe, the Dark Knight returns to Gotham City. This is big news." The newcomer was tall and lithe, clapping as they walked.
"Sandra, long time no see. For the famous Lady Shiva to enter Gotham City without permission is not a good thing. It will only cause unnecessary misunderstandings." Batman's expression remained unchanged, but his heart sank, and his vigilance heightened.
Once, Bruce, the noble scion of Gotham City, disappeared for eight years. To understand the criminal mind, he spent his days in the company of criminals, robbing and stealing. In those days, Bruce was no different from the rest, learning and understanding until he became a most excellent criminal.
That was until he was discovered by Ra's al Ghul, who took him from a group of criminals to be trained.
In the League of Shadows, Bruce completed his transformation from a noble scion into the Dark Knight.
But the outcome was far from wonderful. Bruce fled the League of Shadows, which clashed with his ideals, and in the ensuing fight, caused the death of the previous "Ra's al Ghul" who had been pushed to the forefront.
A year later, with Gotham City as his battlefield, he fought and defeated the current Ra's al Ghul—he didn't know that this Ra's al Ghul possessed the waters of resurrection and could not truly die.
At least, not by the hands of his younger self.
But now, the League of Shadows seemed to have made a comeback. Their target was still Gotham City, and they had directly dispatched the world's top assassin, Lady Shiva.
"You shouldn't have come back to Gotham City. This city is very dangerous for you."
Batman warned in his hoarse voice.
(end of chapter)
