"Old Bat, something's off with you."
Venom Robin watched as Batman broke the legs of three criminals and, after interrogating them about Black Widow's whereabouts, spoke up:
"With us interrogating them with such fanfare, aren't you afraid that word will get out that you're looking for Black Widow?"
Seven hours had passed since nightfall. Batman had led Venom Robin through the dark corners of New York, asking every criminal they encountered about a "white female, 5.5 feet tall, good figure."
This was not how a search for Black Widow should be conducted. Venom Robin knew Batman always had a purpose, but he couldn't grasp what that purpose was.
"If you were a police officer, how would you react if you knew I was looking for a woman like that?" Batman asked in return.
"I'd feel like you got dumped," Venom Robin said.
"Then what if you were Hydra or S.H.I.E.L.D.? Under the premise we previously hypothesized—that Black Widow is an undercover agent planted by S.H.I.E.L.D. inside Hydra," Batman asked again.
"Uh?" Venom Robin reacted with a delay. "Of course, I would think the person you're looking for is exactly Black Widow... but doesn't that bring us back to my question just now? Isn't our operation tonight too high-profile?"
"That is exactly my purpose, Robin," Batman explained. "It is precisely because I am looking for Black Widow with such fanfare that my identity will become unfathomable to both Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D."
"There is a high probability they will choose to make contact with me. Whether the person who comes is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or Hydra, we will be one step closer to finding Black Widow."
Venom Robin nodded. He possessed partial memories, but his thought patterns were still those of Robin. He hadn't understood it a moment ago, but now it clicked instantly. He even began to infer further:
"Old Bat, are you also taking this opportunity to focus the attention of both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra onto yourself, to buy time for Hawkeye who ran off to Japan for a mission?"
"You're smart, Robin," Batman said.
Venom Robin put his hands on his hips.
"I know I'm smart."
As he spoke, he looked at the three criminals beside them who had long since passed out. They had been scared out of their wits by Batman's intimidation and interrogation methods.
"So, you don't need to teach me like a child, demonstrating everything from how to use stealth to specific interrogation techniques and language."
Starting from the interrogation of those Santa Clauses on the Queensboro Bridge earlier tonight, Venom Robin had noticed that Batman's interrogation methods weren't concise; they were laced with a bit of demonstrative behavior.
Venom Robin could imagine that if he weren't present, Batman's interrogation methods would have been far more direct and effective.
He would have directly submerged half the faces of those Santas into the water, letting them wait in the freezing river for the large tugboat to pass.
Instead of merely describing the scenario those Santas were about to face with empty words.
"Robin, deterrence against the enemy is also part of your training," Batman said, his voice deep. "I hope you can learn it and put it to use, rather than being mocked by criminals when you interrogate them alone in the future."
Venom Robin bared his fangs.
"If they dare mock me, I'll eat them!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Venom Robin saw Batman cast a cold glance at him. It scared him enough to shrink his neck back immediately.
"I was joking."
"Have you ever considered why, even though your image after removing the human mask is clearly more terrifying than mine, those Santa robbers could still shout things about diabetes in the face of your intimidation?" Batman asked.
This was a problem not only Venom Robin faced, but one that the Robins he had taken in back in Gotham had encountered as well.
Batman knew he had to solve this issue. He couldn't let it weigh on Robin's heart, subtly influencing their behavior to become increasingly violent.
"I don't know," Venom Robin shook his head honestly. He had thought about this question but hadn't figured it out.
"Because the fear you bring them is mostly a vent of power and a surface-level image. To take their fear to the next level involves psychology and criminology."
Batman patiently explained:
"I don't want you to pursue a more terrifying form, but your image—spitting a long tongue, a mouth full of fangs—will cause criminals to quickly categorize you: 'This is a monster.'"
"Once the categorization is complete, the fear settles. The brain begins to search for ways to deal with the monster, even if it's just absurd mockery."
Venom Robin extended his scarlet tongue, grabbed it with his hand to take a look, and then stuffed it back into his mouth.
"Then what about you? You clearly look like just a human in a suit, especially the way you deliberately leave your chin exposed."
Batman reached his hand out to Robin. Robin wiped the hand that had just been holding his tongue on his Moonlight Shroud suit, then took Batman's hand.
One large, one small; one black, one white. The two figures sped off toward the high-rises of New York.
"Did you notice what they called me? Vampire, ghost, spirit, demon... They don't know what I am, nor do they know if I am human or monster."
"I refuse to provide an answer. This suspended state continues to consume the criminal's mental resources, making them obsess over the unsolvable question, 'Is he actually human?' and thus fall into deeper helplessness and fear."
Batman guided a jet-black web line with one hand and held Venom Robin with the other, his voice drifting through the New York night sky.
"The unknown is the most terrifying. That's what you're saying, right?" Venom Robin asked.
"Correct, Robin." Batman swung through the air, a hundred meters above the ground. The super senses provided by Peter Parker's body allowed him to quickly spot students bullying a teenager in an alley below. "They're all yours."
As he spoke, Batman flicked his hand and threw Venom Robin down.
Japan, Yokohama.
It was raining heavily. The Ronin, Clint Barton, walked through a hanamachi [flower district] holding a katana.
Dancers in revealing kimonos, geishas, and waiters were screaming and running toward Ronin Clint. However, Ronin Clint Barton walked slowly forward, moving against the flow of people.
As the bystanders ran further away, Ronin Clint Barton finally faced the Dark Wind Group thugs who were chasing the dancers.
Having been in Yokohama for two days, Ronin Clint knew that on the surface, this was a traditional district gathering Japanese cultural performances and high-end dining.
But in reality, this was a filthy place controlled by the Dark Wind Group for transnational child trafficking.
Compared to hiding his identity to secretly investigate the Dark Wind Group's trade records—which would require forcing himself to ignore these crimes—Ronin Clint Barton chose a different, more radical method.
Kill them all!
On one side were the gathered thugs of the Dark Wind Group, numbering over a hundred; on the other was the solitary Ronin, Clint Barton.
Under the torrential rain, the two sides closed the fifty-meter gap between them. Someone shouted, "Kill!"
The distance shrank rapidly until they were at close quarters!
Shua!
The Ronin raised his blade and brought it down. Wherever he passed, human heads sprayed blood, spinning as they fell onto the waterlogged road.
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