"Batman, what do you think?"
In the ravaged hall, Gordon wore a grave expression.
"This robbery is out of the ordinary. According to the statistics, the bandits transferred hundreds of thousands of dollars in just a few seconds."
"It's a Superpower criminal."
Batman stated the conclusion in a low voice, his cape billowing as he turned and walked towards the fist mark.
"Truly insane."
Gordon sighed. Up until now, he could only accept the reality of Superpowers in the world.
Batman ignored Gordon's complaints. He stared at the fist mark on the wall, reached for his belt, and pulled out a strange-looking weapon.
"Beep～"
The metal device, similar to a scanner, projected an infrared scan.
Immediately, a complete diagram of the fist appeared on the instrument's screen.
Batman's mouth turned down in a classic "suspicious" Bat-expression.
"The robber is one meter eighty-seven tall, with a bone structure suggesting an age of 16-17."
"He's large and muscular."
Batman pursed his lips. The criminal's physical characteristics didn't match either of the two mysterious figures he had been tracking. The mysterious figures were several centimeters taller.
"Known to possess both super speed and incredibly strong skin defense."
This was undoubtedly a tricky opponent.
"So, what's the plan?" Gordon asked, pushing up his glasses.
"You stay out of this," Batman stated coldly, drawing his grappling gun from his utility belt.
"Wait! I'm a cop, I should…"
Gordon tried to protest, knowing Batman was concerned for his safety, but his duty as a police officer wouldn't allow him to stand aside.
However, all he could do was watch as Batman fired the grappling hook, soaring towards the upper levels of a building, and then disappear like a dark cloud.
Standing on the highest point of the Wayne Bank building's rooftop, Batman gazed down at Gotham, the night wind whistling through the gaps in his Battle Armor, creating a mournful sound.
Batman said in a low voice, "Alfred, pull up the surveillance footage from the main hall and the surrounding streets."
Long before his encounter with the mysterious masked man, Bruce had invested a fortune in upgrading the surveillance systems in Gotham's hidden corners, allowing for high-definition, lossless recording.
Soon, countless video feeds popped up beneath Batman's cowl. An ordinary person would be overwhelmed by such a deluge of information, but Batman could pinpoint the exact videos he needed.
"Pull up the video footage from outside the bank and inside the bank."
"Zzzzt."
Static crackled, and the many screens cleared, leaving Bruce with only two images to focus on.
"Rewind the time to one hour ago."
The footage began to rewind.
People walked outside the bank, and customers were inside, conducting business.
Until, a guy wearing a Red Hood entered Batman's field of vision.
"Alfred, pause, zoom in!"
The video froze, and the image enlarged.
Soon, Batman saw the newspaper the Red Hood was holding.
Batman slightly curled the corner of his mouth, "This, is the clue."
Whoosh!
Batman lifted his large black cape, like a grim reaper descending from the sky in the night, and leaped towards Gotham below.
Luthor Manor.
"Vroom～"
The expensive SUV roared, kicking up a cloud of dust. The tires spun before executing a smooth, stylish drift, coming to a stop in front of the iron gates of the old castle.
The car door opened, and Clark stepped out of the SUV, wearing expensive sunglasses, a high-priced black trench coat, and black pants.
Clark pulled a heavy sack from the back of the car and whistled as he walked towards the castle.
The old butler had already opened the iron gates.
"Welcome, Mr. Clark. Master is having breakfast."
"Lead the way. I haven't eaten breakfast yet either," Clark said with a smile, patting the old butler on the shoulder. He was in a good mood, having just robbed Wayne Bank of hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Although he couldn't take it all at once, Clark had hidden the money in a secret place before returning to Smallville.
Walking into the opulent hall, Clark shook his head in admiration at the awe-inspiring classical architecture. "Seriously, I want to build my own place like this someday."
Gino was sitting on a chair, drinking milk, while two pretty, tall maids gently massaged his shoulders.
Seeing Clark enter, Gino raised an eyebrow, a peculiar look flashing in his eyes.
The youth smiled, looking at Clark. "How was the trip to Gotham?"
"Not bad, made a little money." Clark gave a "wicked" smile, and tossed down the sack in a rather pretentious manner.
The opening of the sack loosened, and a large stack of Benjamins slid out.
"I'll give you the extra. After all, we're friends, aren't we?"
Gino gave a playful smile, supporting his chin with his hands, and stared at Clark with interest. "Wow, looks like our Clark has become a millionaire?"
Gino's gaze lingered on the ring on his finger, and he said meaningfully, "But, have you heard of the masked vigilante in Gotham, a guy called Batman?"
"Batman?" Clark scoffed, a snort escaping his nostrils. "A pathetic character who likes to dress up like Zorro."
"What can ordinary people accomplish? Gino." Clark finished the milk the maid had brought, his eyes gleaming with a fervent light. "Do you remember what you once told me? Wolves and dogs are different."
"The future belongs to people like us!"
"The future belongs to people like us."
Inside the cold, dark Batcave, countless bats with their heads tucked into their wings roosted in the cave ceiling. In the pitch-black night, these small creatures' eyes glowed red, looking eerie and mysterious.
Bruce sank into a chair, watching dozens of robotic arms assembling a massive steel battle armor. He took a sip of his coffee, his expression calm.
This was the battle armor he had begun preparing after his fight with the mysterious man. Fusing Promethium and Mithril made its material incredibly strong, and boosters were installed inside to compensate for the armor's travel speed.
"Master Bruce."
Alfred, the butler, walked into the Batcave with his hands clasped behind his back. "Have you made your decision?"
"Indeed, Alfred." Bruce swiveled his chair, facing the computer screen overhead. It displayed an analysis of the newspaper's fingerprints, revealing the owner to be a high school student named Clark Kent from the high school in Smallville, Kansas.
Alfred followed Bruce's gaze, observing the screen. "And what do you intend to do?"
"He isn't a bad person, just blinded by… things."
Bruce rested his chin on his hands, staring at Clark's youthful profile photo on the screen. He continued softly, "I intend to guide him onto the right path."
Judging by the fact that he only knocked out the security guard instead of killing him outright, there might still be a chance to save him.
Alfred voiced the worst-case scenario. "What if he refuses?"
Bruce stood up. Batman always had countless plans. His gaze fell upon the machine battle armor behind him: "Then let's persuade him with force!"
"Now, help me book a plane ticket to Kansas."
Alfred nodded. "And under what name, Master Bruce?"
"Investment," Bruce replied without hesitation. "Go in the name of investment."
He was very curious about what was so special about this small town that it could nurture a human as powerful as Clark.
-----------------------
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(End of Chapter)