"From morning until now, I've visited over thirty law firms, and not a single one is willing to take on a case against Kingpin."
"Even the few who considered it were talked out of it by their colleagues."
For the first time, Batman felt truly stumped by a problem.
In the past, whether it was the Justice League being infected by the Joker's virus or having his spine broken by Bane and thrown into the Lazarus Pit, Batman had never found anything as frustratingly difficult as simply finding a lawyer.
Lawyers, by virtue of dealing with all sorts of powerful figures, knew more about Kingpin than the average person. Just a year ago, he began expanding his influence in New York, and now he had nearly taken over the entire underworld of Hell's Kitchen.
It was precisely because they knew him so well that no lawyer was willing to take the case.
"You could try looking for some rookie lawyers. Maybe they don't yet know the extent of Kingpin's power and would be bold enough to team up with you."
"Of course, it's more likely that you and that rookie lawyer would end up found in a dumpster one morning, both of you smashed into countless pieces."
That was the advice given by a burly, bald lawyer at the twenty-fourth firm Batman visited.
Batman responded by landing a heavy punch on the man. Despite being two heads taller than Batman, the hulking lawyer proved surprisingly weak, clutching his face in silence without daring to utter a single threat in return.
The search for a lawyer had yielded nothing.
"Maybe it's time to try Plan B…?"
Batman's mind churned through a series of problems: Doctor Octopus, Kingpin, his collaboration with Stark, the Cosmic Cube, the Osborn murder case…
Meanwhile, his feet never stopped moving as he crisscrossed New York, purchasing a massive haul of components.
These included parts for night-vision goggles, thermal imagers, sonar devices, gas masks, micro radio receivers, ice-skating blades, listening devices…
Practically anything that could be bought on the market.
Aside from his cape, the Batmobile, the Batwing, and their accompanying gear like electromagnetic launchers or missiles, Batman was arming himself to the teeth as much as possible.
With so many items, Batman rented a pickup truck to transport them. Each time he met a different seller, he wore different clothes, styled his hair differently, and even altered his accent.
At times, he'd add lifts to his shoes or hunch his back deliberately to make his appearance unpredictable.
It might have seemed overly cautious, but to ensure his return to Gotham went smoothly, Batman spared no effort in perfecting every detail.
Creak!
Driving the rented pickup, Batman parked it in an empty alley twenty miles from an abandoned shipyard. He then packed all the components into waterproof bags and dropped them into the sewer.
He had already scouted New York's sewer system. From this point, he could follow the tunnels to a spot less than two kilometers from the shipyard.
For the next few hours, Batman busied himself with this task, ensuring every component was accounted for and undamaged by water before leaving them in the sewer.
Once night fell, he could retrieve the components and bring them to his temporary operations center.
"I wonder how Doctor Octopus is doing…" Batman thought. "If he really did kill those researchers on the third floor of the Osborn Corporation, I can't continue working with him."
New York's sewers were far from the clean, orderly systems some rumors suggested. The stench was still the dominant note here.
Even someone as iron-willed as Batman wasn't about to endure it needlessly. After finishing his work and returning the rented pickup, he went back to Peter Parker's apartment and took a long, thorough shower.
"Tonight, I need to visit the Osborn Corporation and find out whether Doctor Octopus is responsible," Batman resolved silently.
"Target confirmed as Doctor Octopus… He has four mechanical tentacles behind him, like… like an octopus. Sir, please issue your orders."
In the sewers of Brooklyn, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
Over fifty heavily armed SWAT officers from Manhattan and Brooklyn, wielding rifles or submachine guns, slowly formed an encirclement around a makeshift "laboratory" set up in the sewer.
Close enough now, the officers could clearly see Doctor Octopus—hair disheveled, body heavyset—busily conducting experiments amidst a jumble of laboratory equipment.
Behind him, four mechanical tentacles, each about three meters long, worked in tandem, allowing him to operate four or five different instruments simultaneously.
The instruments were connected to wires ripped from the sewer walls, occasionally sparking with a zzzt.
The officers remained hidden at the sewer's corners, unnoticed by Doctor Octopus, who was engrossed in his experiments.
"Send one officer to approach Doctor Octopus unarmed and attempt to negotiate. Avoid agitating him and prioritize de-escalation."
"We don't yet know the full capabilities of the mechanical tentacles behind Doctor Octopus. We know they're extremely strong, but other functions can't be ruled out…"
"Doctor Octopus is a world-renowned expert in nuclear physics. Unless absolutely necessary, do not open fire. Prioritize using stun guns to neutralize him."
On the surface, George Stacy sat in a police car, issuing commands.
"Yes, sir," responded an officer reporting from the sewer.
Soon, the captain of Brooklyn's special operations team, Fek, removed all his weapons except for a handgun tucked at his lower back. Raising his hands, he stepped forward, turned a corner, and emerged from his hiding spot.
"Doctor Octopus, my daughter's loved physics since she was a kid and considers you her idol. I never thought I'd meet you here."
"Who?!" Doctor Octopus whipped his head around, fixing his gaze on Fek, hands raised.
In that same instant, the four mechanical tentacles behind him abruptly abandoned their instruments, their tips snapping into position to aim directly at Fek.
Just like the claw marks left in the abandoned laboratory above ground, the ends of Doctor Octopus's tentacles were three-pronged, opening and closing rhythmically.
Gulp.
Even as a seasoned SWAT officer, Fek couldn't help but feel a twinge of nerves facing a potentially unhinged scientist and four writhing, snake-like tentacles.
"I'm Fek, Doctor," he said, forcing himself to stay calm. "It must be tough conducting experiments down here, right? We've prepared a new laboratory for you on the surface. Why don't you come with me to check it out?"
Doctor Octopus shook his head, glancing at his nuclear fusion device.
"No, I'm not going. My experiment is almost complete. I've figured out the problem, and I'm so close to success… Changing locations would waste too much time."
"Doctor, trust me, the new lab won't waste your time. It'll provide a more comfortable environment and speed up your experiments…" Fek pressed, trying to persuade him.
"No, Fek, I'm asking you to trust me…" Doctor Octopus countered. "Give me a little more time, and my nuclear fusion will change the world!"
Doctor Octopus remained resolute, unwilling to delay the moment he'd see his experiment succeed.
"Nuclear fusion is dangerous, you…" Fek seized on the term "nuclear fusion," pointing at the sparking exposed wires.
But before he could finish, Doctor Octopus cut him off angrily, his tentacles flaring menacingly, one extending so close it nearly touched Fek.
"You don't understand! No energy source is safer than nuclear fusion! I'm not going to blow up Brooklyn like some movie villain. I'm going to usher the world into a new era, free from energy shortages…"
Swish, swish, swish!
As Doctor Octopus passionately defended his nuclear fusion project, whether due to his emotions or the movements of his tentacles, the officers perceived him as a threat. In an instant, multiple gun barrels were trained on him.
"Don't shoot! My tentacles pose no threat," Doctor Octopus said, raising his hands. "There's a chip behind me firmly protecting my brain. I'm not some out-of-control Terminator—just a scientist trying to change the world."
Seeing that words wouldn't convince Doctor Octopus to leave the sewer willingly, Fek shifted tactics. His lips barely moved as he whispered into the comms system:
"The target's tentacles can connect instruments to power sources, likely with insulation capabilities. We need to neutralize Doctor Octopus and destroy the chip behind him… Shooters Two, Three, and Four, prepare stun guns and fire."
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze