Chapter 43: Late Night, Secret Chamber
Woo-wah!
Police sirens pierced Manhattan's night sky as two fire trucks raced through the streets toward Manhattan precinct.
George Stacy and firefighters repeatedly charged into the flame and smoke-shrouded station, rescuing detained prisoners along with important documents one by one.
But one area remained unreachable despite all efforts.
That section at the precinct's deepest point—several holding cells—had walls and floors collapse from the explosion, burying everything firmly beneath rubble.
Without construction vehicles like excavators or cranes, human strength alone couldn't budge it, let alone approach through the roaring flames and billowing smoke.
But in the dead of night, where could they find such equipment? Even if available, it couldn't reach the scene in time.
The arriving firefighters were at a loss. They could only use water cannons to suppress the blaze, seeking a sliver of hope for those trapped inside.
"Auggie, how many people are still unaccounted for?" Captain Stacy's face bore traces of smoke and fire, but he disregarded his appearance to ask his assistant.
"Three people haven't been rescued... They were all held in those deepest cells. One of them is Dr. Octavius."
Assistant Auggie checked the list of rescued prisoners.
"No matter what, saving lives takes priority." Captain Stacy's brows twisted together. "Contact the nearest construction site. Get me an excavator or cra—"
BOOM!
George Stacy's words had barely left his mouth when the already high-risk collapsed area suffered another cave-in.
Ash and dust billowed up, scattering in the wind. Captain Stacy and Auggie had to retreat several steps, covering their mouths and noses.
Fire Captain Becker, his clothes and face blackened by smoke, approached Captain Stacy.
"Captain, this situation requires contacting the urban search and rescue team. Without professional structural engineers on site, we don't dare attempt rescue rashly—it could kill people who might otherwise survive due to unprofessional operations."
"We can't accept that risk, nor can we let you privately deploy construction vehicles for rescue."
George Stacy sighed heavily. As captain, how could he not know this? He simply wanted to rescue everyone as quickly as possible.
"Agent Coulson..." Captain Stacy looked toward the ever-silent Phil Coulson.
Before he could finish, Coulson shook his head, indicating he shouldn't speak yet, instead staring intently at the collapsed area where firefighters were powerless.
Captain Stacy watched Coulson. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he vaguely detected a trace of anticipation in the agent's eyes.
But with the fire department at a loss and three people still trapped in the collapse, what was he anticipating?
Just as Captain Stacy puzzled over this—
Screech...
The teeth-grinding sound of bending steel suddenly erupted, followed by a series of mechanical and metal collisions.
Everyone from the fire department and precinct focused their attention. In that collapsed area at the holding cells' deepest point, several tons of reinforced concrete suddenly shifted, then was flung aside with a crash.
Then a mechanical tentacle extended out, like a cobra rearing up, its three-pronged claw opening before heavily striking the rubble nearby.
Crack!
A crisp sound—this first tentacle firmly anchored itself, then a second, third... three tentacles emerged from the rubble.
Through the swirling dust, a figure in prison garb slowly rose. Dr. Octavius, supported by tentacles, hung high above the wreckage.
Whoosh!
Everyone participating in firefighting couldn't help retreating several steps. Manhattan precinct officers even backed behind vehicles and other cover, drawing handguns aimed at Otto.
Agent Coulson stood his ground. He'd conversed with Otto and understood the truth behind Otto killing police in the sewers.
Otto simply lacked funding, couldn't afford the expensive electricity his experiment required, so entered the sewers. His Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division could resolve this.
George Stacy likewise didn't retreat, his eyes flashing the same anticipation as Coulson's, gaze locked on Otto's fourth tentacle, still not yet raised.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
As Otto's mechanical tentacles alternately lifted and fell, his figure gradually emerged from the rubble. That last extending tentacle also became visible to everyone.
The fourth tentacle was curled, firmly binding the two people trapped with Otto.
Whoosh—
Captain Stacy exhaled in relief, exchanging glances with Coulson. Both men simultaneously approached Otto.
Clap, clap!
Someone hesitantly applauded several times celebrating the successful rescue, but was quickly stopped by nearby companions.
Otto's solo defeat of thirty-one police officers in the sewers still dominated the Daily Bugle headlines.
Even though he'd now rescued two other trapped individuals, most people's fear of Otto still outweighed other emotions.
.....
While firefighters and officers outside Manhattan precinct breathed easier with everyone rescued, inside Osborn Manor, Batman held his breath.
Norman had returned to the manor, approaching the study at an unhurried pace.
Batman felt no panic. His mind remained absolutely calm.
He first secured the damaged suit to his utility belt, then his gaze rapidly swept the secret chamber before pulling down the light switch.
Thunk!
The chamber plunged into pitch darkness, not a sliver of light remaining.
"Dum-dum-dum..."
Apparently in good spirits, Norman hummed a disconnected tune entering the study. The next second his pupils contracted to pinpoints, his humming mouth trembling slightly.
"Harry?"
Seeing the shifted bookshelf and the exposed pitch-black void, Norman called out softly.
No response.
The chamber was pitch black—you couldn't see your hand before your face. Norman swiftly drew a short blade from his suit, gripping it reverse-style, hunching over and advancing cautiously.
Tap, tap...
Faint footsteps were the chamber's only sound. Norman further lightened his steps until silence reigned—a pin could be heard dropping.
He knew this place intimately. Even in total darkness, he touched nothing, perfectly avoiding all obstacles. His reverse-gripped blade shifted slightly, ready to strike at any moment.
The chamber wasn't large. Norman quickly searched every corner, his blade probing outward several times without touching anything.
Click!
A soft sound—Norman reached the light switch and turned it on. Eerie green illumination immediately filled the space.
Almost simultaneously, his blade crossed before him, his gaze rapidly sweying the chamber. Yet even with lights on, the place remained empty.
"Heh—"
Norman's mouth opened in laughter when he suddenly sensed something and looked up.
An entirely black figure with two sharp pointed ears clung to the ceiling, silently watching him. Two eyes gleamed sinister in the eerie green light.
The next second—crash!
Countless bats shattered the study windows, passing through the dim corridor into the chamber. Simultaneously, Batman dropped from the ceiling.