"Kill me! Sentence me to death!"
In the detention room of the police station, Dr. Otto's tentacles were secured to the wall. He hung his head low, sobbing, his emotions overwhelmed by remorse and regret.
After being knocked unconscious by Batman, Dr. Otto had woken up again in the detention room.
For a brief moment, he was stunned. Before he could even feel relieved at returning to normal, memories from his out-of-control period flooded his mind like a tidal wave.
Tentacles, lab, sewer, police, cables, Batman...
"Dr. Otto, we'll arrange for New York's top surgeon to perform the tentacle removal surgery. Before that, I think you need to understand what you've done."
Officer Ogg stood outside the detention room, looking at the now-awake Dr. Otto as he spoke.
"You illegally removed experimental equipment worth hundreds of millions from the lab, illegally tapped into New York's underground cables... and electrocuted a total of thirty-one police officers to death."
More than half of the deceased officers were colleagues from Ogg's Major Crimes Unit at the station, while the rest were from the special operations team that had come to assist from Brooklyn.
Ogg's emotions were relatively stable, but when he mentioned that thirty-one officers had died in the operation to arrest Dr. Otto, his voice couldn't help but tremble.
With a buzz, Dr. Otto's mind went blank. He subconsciously looked down at his hands—these hands that had personally taken thirty-one lives, hands stained with blood.
Ogg looked at the silent Dr. Otto, feeling that this world-renowned nuclear physicist was now just a pitiful and despicable ordinary person.
"You can apply for a lawyer to defend you, and you also have the right to remain silent, but every word you say will become evidence in court."
"No," Dr. Otto slowly lifted his bowed head. He looked at Officer Ogg and said, "I refuse any form of defense... Just sentence me to death right away. Let me pay for the lives of those who died by my hands."
"I'm afraid that can't happen as you wish." Ogg shook his head, turned, and left the detention room, then called over two other officers. "Keep an eye on him. Don't let him commit suicide."
Dr. Otto was in tears. He couldn't accept that he—who had dedicated himself to developing nuclear fusion energy to change the world, to free it from energy crises, to eliminate domestic violence against wives and children caused by workers in dangerous jobs for meager wages—had personally taken thirty-one lives before his dream could be realized.
"If only I hadn't been so impatient with the experiment, if only I had listened to Peter, if only I had protected the tentacle chips securely..." Dr. Otto's heart ached with torment.
At the same time, in an office several rooms away from Dr. Otto's detention room, George Stacy was meeting with an official from an organization with a long and cumbersome name.
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division... Why have I never heard of it? Please wait a moment; I need to make a call to verify."
"Here's a document personally issued by the Director of the Department of Defense." Agent Phil Coulson seemed to have anticipated the chief's reaction and handed over a document as he spoke.
George Stacy took the document suspiciously, read it carefully, and after confirming it wasn't a forgery, looked at Agent Phil.
"So, Agent Phil, what brings you here?"
Agent Phil Coulson stared into Chief George's eyes.
"According to the information I have, Dr. Otto didn't kill intentionally. He lost control because the chip at the back of his brain, which controls the tentacles, was destroyed."
"And the reason his chip was destroyed was precisely the electroshock tranquilizer rounds used by the police against him."
George Stacy stared back at Agent Phil without backing down.
"Are you saying that the organization you represent wants to release Otto without charges?"
"No, I mean that instead of life imprisonment or the death penalty, we'll offer him a better opportunity to use his abilities to save far more lives than he has taken," Agent Phil said.
Chief George Stacy remained silent.
"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division will properly resettle the relatives of the victims. Dr. Otto will no longer appear in public, and we'll do our best to consider everyone's feelings," Agent Phil added.
"Your name really needs to be changed," George Stacy said, changing the subject instead of continuing the discussion about Dr. Otto.
"We'll consider it."
Agent Phil smiled faintly and walked out of the office toward Dr. Otto's detention room.
"The Tesseract is in the hands of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division—this secretive organization formed by multiple nations."
On the streets of Manhattan, Batman no longer hailed a taxi but walked leisurely, stopping and starting at his own pace.
Tony Stark didn't know much about the Tesseract, only that it had been discovered by the now-eliminated terrorist organization HYDRA and retrieved from the North Pole by Howard Stark after World War II.
"I must build a business empire as soon as possible, then assemble a scientific team to participate in this organization's research on the Tesseract."
Batman wasn't prepared to steal or snatch it; that would do more harm than good for him.
For the long-term goal of returning to Gotham, Batman had to plan far ahead.
And a private facility like the Batcave—which integrated a surveillance network, forensic analysis station, equipment workshop, armory, Batmobile parking, Batwing platform, medical station, training area, and more—had become a necessity.
Batman wasn't taking a taxi right now precisely because he wanted to thoroughly scout one of his selected locations for the Batcave: the City Hall station, a subway station in the heart of Brooklyn.
This subway station, built in 1904, had been preserved to this day but was no longer in operation.
Even compared to many modern subway stations, the abandoned City Hall station could be described as luxuriously vintage, with brass chandeliers, leaded glass skylights in amethyst hues, and bronze plaques, making it feel like a small museum.
But Batman's gaze didn't linger on the ornate decorations at all; he was more concerned with whether it was private enough and had sufficient space for renovations.
"The subway station is only one level deep. I'll need to expand downward or horizontally to create enough room for the Batmobile, the Batwing, and the large servers and generators I'll place here in the future."
"I'll need to buy the surrounding land to ensure this place is secure and private enough, and that any construction noise won't raise suspicions."
Batman, who had extensive knowledge in engineering and had personally designed and built over fifty Batcaves of various sizes in Gotham City, quickly determined that this abandoned City Hall station would be one of the best choices for the Batcave.
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