“Reporting for you, from the evening of the 24th to the early morning of the 25th, the explosion near the Boiler District in the eastern part of the city was actually caused by a criminal retaliating against the police during a capture operation, resulting in a natural gas explosion. Currently, the criminal has been arrested by the police. However, there are still accomplices at large. Citizens are advised to be alert to unfamiliar faces around them. Visit the ‘Fugitive Watch’ official website to view photos of all fugitives. If you choose to report, you can receive a reward of $5,000 to $30,000…”

The reporter on the screen continued to speak endlessly, but Dick was spreading peanut butter on bread, Tim was holding a coffee cup, resting his chin in one hand, Bruce hadn’t woken up yet, and the butler went to call him again. on the TV, the captured criminal’s photo, although pixelated, still clearly showed Killer Croc’s headshot.

“How’s the police life in Bludhaven?”

“Not bad,” shrugged Dick, who always got along well with Tim, “But it’s not as exciting as Gotham.”

“Seriously,” Dick glanced at the TV, “Killer Croc is starting to hire henchmen now? Isn’t he usually a loner?” He was referring to the “accomplices” mentioned by the reporter.

Tim’s laptop was nearby. He pressed a few keys and turned the screen towards his brother: “No, these ‘accomplices’ aren’t really associated with Killer Croc, they’re just common criminals from the Eastern District.”

The ‘Fugitive Watch’ website seemed to be newly established, with a simplistic interface, but the photos and profiles of each criminal were quite prominent, categorized into [At Large] and [In Prison]. Tim casually switched to the [In Prison] section, and the top photo was none other than an old acquaintance of the Bat-family – The Joker.

Tim choked on his coffee.

At the bottom of the page, a note stated that the website was jointly developed by “City Hall, GCPD, Blackgate Prison, and Arkham Asylum,” and that an app version was currently in development.

However, Tim felt that the current security level of the website was not very high, believing he could easily hack into it—

Maybe he should volunteer to strengthen its firewall later?

He could also help with developing the app version, as Tim found, indeed, it was a good initiative.

Unlike the sometimes very stubborn Batman, Tim, among the Robins, was most like him but also had his own personality. He agreed with Batman’s no-kill policy, but sometimes he was more diplomatic than Batman.

Dick finished his toast, leaning on the table, and turned to look at Tim’s laptop screen behind him. Seeing Joker’s photo, he couldn’t help but laugh and spread his hands: “Looks like Gotham has changed a lot in just a month. I almost thought I hadn’t come back for a year.”

Tim replied, “It started with the new mayor’s term, but these changes might not be good.”

Dick understood his meaning: “That Mr. C…”

Tim projected the contents of his computer, creating a circular holographic screen that displayed several faces, including Anna, Bella, and Vivi.

“He’s behind the scenes, pushing everything. Last night’s riot in the Eastern District had his shadow behind it.”

As they spoke, Bruce came downstairs, resembling a lazy black panther, much softer in his everyday life compared to his Batman persona. He was unclear how much of his adoptive sons’ conversation he had heard.

He then said, “City Hall’s guards used a freeze gun to immobilize the assassin with self-healing abilities and put him into a pre-prepared ice coffin.”

Dick laughed: “So, the mayor knew his weakness from the start… No, was it Mr. C who knew all along?”

“Not just knew the weakness was freezing…” Tim pondered, “But also knew where the enemy was. Last night, there were no casualties on City Hall’s side. If it was a war, there’s no doubt the Madam Mayor won a beautiful victory.”

They discussed the strategy of letting the assassin entangle with Batman, using SWAT to clean up the criminals, and how the late-arriving City Hall guards reaped the benefits. With the chaotic power dynamics last night, there was no need to sort out who was the enemy or the ally; just look at who benefited the most in the end to understand a large part of the truth.

“But if Mr. C told her all this, then what’s the connection between the assassin and Mr. C?”

If related, the assassin was C’s man, and last night’s riot was a large-scale drama directed by him.

If unrelated, C at least knew all this. Dick didn’t understand: “What could Mr. C gain from this?”

Batman gained knowledge of the mysterious enemy’s weakness, knowing the assassin with self-healing powers could be defeated by freezing.

The mayor cleaned up the Eastern District, likely to initiate major reforms, and her reputation greatly increased, adding a significant achievement to her resume.

Even Penguin’s remnants got a chance for stable development, with the newly established “construction company” not collapsing that night.

—If the latter were Mr. C’s people, then did he stir up so much just for a shell construction company?

“For the fun of the game,” Bruce said, “For them, the thrill is more important than anything else.”

Creating a profile of Mr. C was difficult, with the image being vague even regarding gender, only showing a pair of eyes hidden in the dark, filled with pleasure.

The two adoptive sons fell silent for a moment. They had encountered many such enemies – to whom the world was just a game, playing both villains and heroes, all just to please themselves.

“Is the new mayor in cahoots with Mr. C?” Dick suddenly asked. “I have a feeling the mayor knows she’s being used by Mr. C but is using him in return.”

Bruce nodded at him, recalling his encounter with Anna Alek: “She’s a woman who… only cares about her goals, and not the means to achieve them.”

To reach her ends, she’s willing to collaborate with dangerous characters, unconcerned with the methods as long as they lead to success—

She was aware that Penguin’s confession was under magical control, but her aim was merely his admission of guilt.

At the court hearing’s end, Wayne briefly spoke with Mayor Alek, subtly probing her views on Penguin’s trial and subtly pointing out its dubious aspects—

“Indeed suspicious,” the woman had said, barely hiding her amusement, “But what does it matter to me whether he believes he’s guilty? I’m not his mother, it’s not my duty to educate him.”

“As long as the wicked are brought to justice, does their genuine remorse matter?”

She might think this way, and so might others, but Batman couldn’t.

Some say Batman trusts no one, and naturally, he can’t trust Mr. C. While others may readily offer trust, Batman must be the last line of defense, prepared to save the situation if Mr. C’s game spirals out of control.

And he’s sure his principles don’t align with the mayor’s.

Using others to achieve an end could backfire; everything might seem fine for now, but once the magic fails or C finds a new amusement—who can prove he won’t become another Joker? Batman doesn’t believe in magic.

Just like killing the Joker would still result in another emerging because Gotham itself breeds Jokers—a city of sin nurturing dangerous flowers of evil.

The TV began broadcasting another piece of news, detailing the mayor’s plans for the Eastern District: underground renovations, increased labor force, caring for orphans… It appeared Anna truly intended to make significant changes in the East District, seizing the opportunity.

“Regardless of whom the mayor works with,” his eldest son said, watching the screen, “at least she’s truly changing Gotham now. If she can succeed…”

Bruce glanced at him: “I’ll be watching her.”

He would keep an eye on everything, ready to sacrifice all for the city, as always.

“Ahem,” Alfred, the butler, coughed lightly, standing by the table, “Gentlemen, have you forgotten what time it is?”

He gently reminded them: “I’d prefer if you took your work off the dining table and thought a bit more about your stomachs.”

At his words, everyone froze momentarily. Dick soon left, citing “another case to investigate.” Tim packed away his laptop, accidentally smearing peanut butter on his coffee mug, and Bruce focused intently on his Eggs Benedict.

Peace reigned in Wayne Manor today.

But at City Hall, it was bustling with activity.

Shelk had long organized a team to tackle the underground problems of the East District. They’d had many meetings on demolition, staffing, construction timing, and cost estimates before the district was even handed over by the mayor.

But when they really got to work, these young, enthusiastic team members realized their true challenges:

Chasing down stolen building materials.

Dealing with protection rackets from rival gangs.

Negotiating exorbitant demands from locals wanting real estate compensation—extortion?

Countless, varied issues emerged, causing many to lose at least a millimeter of hairline in just half a month.

Yet, the plan barely progressed.

Until this day, when all the troublemakers in the East District were either arrested or had fled. The team could finally breathe easy!

With a reliable construction company on board (newly established but endorsed by the mayor, instilling firm trust in her judgment), no more extra outlays (no more protection money, though mysteriously, part of these funds was reallocated for cat food), and the land already owned by City Hall (funds set aside for temporary housing), construction officially began.

Elsewhere, the mayor, again playing hooky under her alias Bella, was stopped by a group of girls.

She wasn’t on her bike this time, just wandering through the Eastern District. Although impoverished, it was a district home to over 600,000 people, with many places she hadn’t yet visited.

The group, young and old, dressed rather “lightly,” approached her timidly. The girl at the forefront, arms crossed over her chest, asked: “Are you a police officer, miss?”

Considering she was a jail guard and had been a cop just the day before, Vivi nodded.

The girl seemed relieved. After a few silent glances among themselves, they didn’t immediately state their business.

Vivi curiously asked: “How did you know I was a cop?”

The bravest girl replied: “Didn’t you know, police miss? There’s a video about you that went viral on Twitter.”