[Blackgate Penitentiary, Gotham City — Day]
Seeing the once-wide bars now pulled back by Jack Kadere—narrower than before—Catwoman couldn't resist asking, "Are you sick?"
"Do you have medicine?" Jack Kadere chuckled.
"You shouldn't be locked in Blackgate Penitentiary. You should be locked in Arkham." Catwoman was certain now. Jack Kadere was absolutely insane. Then again, there weren't many normal people in Gotham.
"I'll go if I get the chance," Jack Kadere replied, his tone completely serious, as if he hadn't heard the insult at all.
Catwoman decided she couldn't talk to him anymore. This dude was sick—the kind of sick where he'd die if he didn't annoy someone.
She walked directly to the bars, turned sideways, and stepped one leg through. Then she sucked in her stomach slightly and squeezed. As soon as half her body was through, she had to stop. Too tight. Everything else was fine, but her chest was stuck.
She could have passed through easily before. But he had gone to the trouble of pulling them back again.
Catwoman glared at Jack Kadere, only to find him staring intently at her.
She looked down. Instantly, she understood why he had gone to all that trouble.
This... this cunt!
No wonder he had been sizing up her figure earlier. No wonder he had pulled the bars back after opening them.
He did it on purpose.
Realizing his intention, Catwoman pushed with all her strength and forced her body through in one motion.
A muffled grunt escaped her. She suppressed the urge to soothe the ache and glared fiercely at Jack Kadere.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Jack Kadere applauded lightly, smiling. "You've proven with your actions that it's the real deal."
Who said mine was fake? Who needed proof?
Catwoman was furious enough to squeeze back in and beat him senseless, but at that moment, the prison guards at the end of the corridor had spotted her and were already moving to open the door.
She couldn't waste time on Jack Kadere any longer. She rushed straight toward them.
The door opened.
Several guards armed with batons immediately engaged her. Normally, Catwoman wouldn't have batted an eye at a few guards. But now, half her shoulder was still numb and aching, and the pain severely impacted her agility. For the moment, she couldn't break through.
BOOM!
A sudden, deafening explosion rocked the building. Something had gone off outside. Shouts followed immediately.
Before the guards could figure out what was happening, a group of armed men stormed in from outside and knocked down their colleagues in the distance.
These newcomers held guns, their faces filled with excitement and wild abandon. They arrogantly found the keys, opened the cells, released the prisoners—and handed them weapons.
"You are liberated! You are free!"
"Go get your revenge! Go get revenge on those rich people, those scoundrels! Gotham belongs to you!"
Which criminal in Gotham wasn't utterly vicious? What would happen when these men gained freedom and got guns?
The prison erupted into a riot.
In such chaotic, noisy circumstances, the guards had no time to spare for Catwoman. But she found herself pushed and shoved, unable to slip away cleanly.
"You are free!"
The cell door swung open. A tattooed man threw a gun directly to Jack Kadere.
"Thank you." Jack Kadere smiled as he caught it. He turned the weapon over in his hands, examining it. He really hadn't had a chance to use one of these before. He didn't know how to shoot, but it didn't matter. He'd just find someone who knew how to shoot and have them shoot him later.
Catwoman was right. Jack Kadere was indeed very suitable for Arkham Asylum.
He looked at the chaotic corridor, then leisurely walked out.
Although the corridor was packed, Jack Kadere navigated through the crowd with ease, his copied flexibility and stacked agility carrying him past bodies and elbows effortlessly. As he passed Catwoman, he smiled at her, then ignored her furious glare and strolled out of the corridor.
Catwoman was agile too—but nowhere near as agile as Jack Kadere with his abilities stacked several times over. By the time she escaped the prison, he was long gone.
And the streets were in chaos.
---
"Indeed. Gotham City has simple folk."
Jack Kadere walked down the street. Gunshots, roars, shouts, and pleas filled the air. Companies and mansions were ransacked. Former tycoons and socialites were thrown out of their homes like garbage.
Of course, some people resisted. In Gotham, if you didn't have a few guns, you wouldn't dare go outside. They fired without hesitation, fighting for their lives.
When Darkseid's Parademons descended on Earth, only the people of Gotham had dared to resist. It didn't matter if you were human, god or demon—they would shoot without hesitation.
The sky hung overcast, hiding the sun. Gothic buildings stood tall, their superficial grandeur concealing the filth beneath. Coupled with the current chaos, this was truly Gotham.
"What a lively wind."
Jack Kadere straightened his collar and walked toward a nearby apartment building. The surroundings echoed with the sounds of smashing glass and splintering wood, but Jack Kadere, like a gentleman, pressed the doorbell.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong...
The chime sounded faintly inside. The door did not open.
"Never mind."
Jack Kadere lifted his leg and kicked.
BANG!
The door burst inward.
He raised the gun and shouted, "Listen up, everyone inside! This is a robbery—"
A gunshot cut him off. A bullet flew out from inside.