【Before coming to Gotham, I never imagined it to be such a crazy city…” 】

Accompanied by the Youtuber’s narration, a gray and hazy cityscape appears on the screen, featuring Gothic architecture, sinister gargoyles, and crows flying across the sky… it all looked like the opening of a movie.

Tony Stark, passing by the screening room, commented, “What, did the old Bat finance a biopic about Gotham? Maybe he’ll make a cameo in his clunky Batman armor?”

It was an ordinary day off for the Avengers, a day of rest when no crisis arose. On such days, they could arrange their own downtime, work out, or enjoy a drink. However, when most of them were together, it became a movie day—

A time to enjoy a movie with friends in a peaceful atmosphere.

Captain America Steve was sitting at one end of the sofa, Black Widow Natasha was sitting with her arms crossed at the other end, Hawkeye Clint lay on a single sofa, Dr. Banner turned his head and smiled at Tony, while Thor was not in the atrium.

Clint raised his hand, signaling, “It’s not a movie, just a short clip that was originally posted on YouTube and blew up on Twitter. Haven’t you seen it, Tony?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “A scientist engrossed in upgrading his armor hardly has time for short clips.”

Natasha shook her head helplessly, while Steve spread his hands and smiled, “It was Clint’s recommendation. He thought it would be better on the big screen…”

The video had paused, and Clint seemed eager to sell the idea, with the considerate Captain America giving him a hand: “I remember Peter is in Gotham, so I’m quite interested.”

“Oh…” Iron Man nodded in his own dignified manner, nonchalantly taking a seat in the center of the sofa, “I’m quite curious to see what’s happening, maybe have a laugh at old Bat’s expense.”

The others kindly didn’t expose his true intentions.

The video resumed playing—

The blogger quickly explained why he came to Gotham: a city both famous and dangerous, and he was seeking thrills for traffic. Since arriving in Gotham, he decided to stay in the dangerous East End.

On the first night, he accidentally captured this video.

The first part was obviously pre-shot material, but the footage then became shaky.

Still from an upward angle, around 3 a.m., the blogger mentioned the night was chaotic with explosions and gunfire. After hiding in the house for most of the night and hearing the noise subside, he ventured out for footage.

Afterward, the blogger didn’t speak again, as the visuals took over—

[In the howling wind, the sound of an approaching motorcycle overwhelmed the wind, oppressively loud, as if riding over your head. The camera jerked, and the motorcyclist appeared in view.

Surprisingly, it was a woman, her eyes hidden behind wind goggles, her black hair dancing in the fierce wind, dawn light on her shoulders, adding a golden fringe to her hair. After initially noticing this figure dominating the frame, people would realize she was actually driving on rooftops.]

The camera quickly panned down, as if the blogger wanted to show the viewers the height—filmed from the third floor, the motorcycle was maneuvering on the opposite fourth-floor rooftop.

The woman vanished from the frame, but the sound of the motorcycle lingered. The blogger hurried through his rented room to another window—

[Before, the sporadic gunfire was just background noise, but now, the camera captured a moment of a black motorcycle pinning a bizarre figure against a wall.

“A crocodile…?”

The upright crocodile man, devolved from a human, seemed unbothered by the impact. More than the injuries, it was the kinetic force and weight of the motorcycle causing trouble. Humans in uniforms surrounded the two, the camera capturing the crocodile man’s attempts to attack and the woman’s back.]

“Looks like Gotham is more suited as a wild animal zoo,” Tony commented sourly, “but not for pajama babies. No animal park would let beasts roam free.”

[The camera zoomed in. The crocodile man, having crawled out, and the woman’s profile was captured. Surprisingly, her face bore neither fear nor anger, just a hunter’s calm. After briefly defending against two attacks, she found an opening, and straddled the motorcycle for a half turn, the bystanders tacitly clearing space. Then, the woman flipped off the bike, sending the black motorcycle charging at the crocodile man—

The crocodile didn’t dodge, unable to react quickly enough. But from his blind spot, the camera shook, and the woman drew twin guns, crouching to fire three shots at the fuel tank!

Boom—

The motorcycle exploded, flames raging, the burdened old wall collapsing. The crocodile man finally broke down, unconscious.

At the end, armed guards surrounded the scene, the woman saying something, then lazily saluting with two fingers.

The blogger’s voice appeared just right: “Later, I inquired, and this woman is a Gotham police officer.”

The screen faded into darkness, showing faces of diverse humans in Gotham’s East End, the aftermath of the fight, and crows flying lower and lower…

“I have to admit,” the blogger’s voice appeared at the end, “Gotham truly is an amazing city, no other city compares… with the same madness and charm.”]

The video ended, and simultaneously, Vivi’s phone finished playing the video.

She sat in the passenger seat, Riti in the back, Dick driving. Since someone else was driving, there was no need for her to summon her motorcycle, allowing her to finish watching her fame-inducing video.

For Vivi, this was like a game Easter egg. The players’ actions were recorded and uploaded to the game’s online network, creating a strange clash – it was like evaluating NPCs in your mind, while they critiqued you online.

The roles of the evaluator and the evaluated had swapped at this moment.

Vivi was browsing the net, reading people’s comments about her—

“She should be called the ‘Motorcycle Hunter.’ So cool, reminds me of the Black Widow I saw in New York! She saved my life…”

“Frankly speaking, the Motorcycle Hunter’s bike is blown up. Why is this video trending? It’s just a cop doing their job, a bit over the top like an action movie!”

“Maybe because normal cops don’t face upright crocodile men? Dude, normal cops don’t drive over crocodile men with a motorcycle either!”

“Since Gotham is trending, let me promote our city’s hero, Batman%￥@（￥#*）”

“Isn’t Batman just an urban legend?”

“Urban legend my foot! Batman is part of the Justice League—”

The conversation got sidetracked, and many started arguing over their cities’ superheroes. Vivi realized that many cities had their own superheroes, like neighbouring Bludhaven, Metropolis, Central City, New York, and so on.

Her system panel also loaded a long list of new hero data cards, but Vivi guessed these heroes were more like Easter eggs, perhaps making appearances during holidays or special game events?

If she hadn’t randomly been assigned to Gotham, would she have had the chance to see “Superman” in Metropolis?

But maybe not. Metropolis had been blown up once.

The previous attempt at a portrait hadn’t gone well. “Daddy Martin” had shown up with a hat and scarf, concealing everything but his eyes, and the view was blurry. Riti couldn’t provide any useful clues.

But—

She noted down his features.

According to her description, the man was nearly two meters tall, big and burly, with a fierce look in his eyes. And she mentioned an uncertain detail: “When he entered, I noticed one of his eyes seemed to glow.”

A glowing eye?

Was he some kind of supervillain? Given Gotham has crocodile men, Vivi began searching her mind for any villain who could have glowing eyes, asking, “Could his eyes shoot lasers?”

The girl who didn’t know what lasers were: “?”

Interestingly, Dick thought the same— if the person truly had glowing eyes, he might be an old acquaintance. So he also recalled Gotham’s supervillain roster.

Meanwhile, in the car, Dick asked, “Riti, are you sure it was just one eye, not both?”

If it was just reflected light, both eyes should glow.

“I’m pretty sure,” Riti lamented, “because the room was dark, but one of his eyes shined bright, like a cat, but scarier.”

They planned to dig up the body, partly to confirm “a murder indeed occurred,” and possibly to find clues.

The money paid by the killer had been used to treat Old Nightingale’s illness. Any clues had long vanished. The victim had been wrapped in cloth and burned, and the Nightingales, lacking money for a grave, had hastily buried what hadn’t burned.

Despite his odd name, Dick was a good cop, diligently helping them with a case that wasn’t directly his. He prepared to ask nearby people… a huge task, but Vivi knew he was also investigating a more significant drug case. She wanted to quickly close this case, then help settle the Nightingales—Millie’s place was a good option.

Why not ask Catwoman if she could get clues from the cats?

“‘Daddy Martin’…” she pondered, “such a common name, and probably not his real one, just a nickname.”

And what about the glowing single eye?

“He hides his identity, only leaving at dawn. The victim had been dead for over three hours by then…” Dick mused, staring ahead, interjecting, “This suggests a bold yet cautious criminal. Hiding his face means he has a high-profile identity to protect. A lower-class person wouldn’t think to conceal their face, and he chose a minor…”

Dick’s brow furrowed in disgust, his expression serious: “He might be a public servant.”

“This suspect only wanted young girls, hence the secrecy and choosing the criminal alley he wouldn’t normally visit…”

Ironically, while he spoke, Vivi was searching the system for employees named “Martin.” There were many, but matching the description of two-meter height, big and bulky, with an abnormal eye—almost none.

City Hall search complete—

GCPD and subsidiary branches search complete—

Vivi messaged Wen in the meantime, asking him to send a list of matching subordinates.

But she wasn’t hopeful— who uses their real name when visiting a prostitute? ‘Martin’ was likely just an alias… right?

The system search reached Blackgate Prison, and a name popped up.

【Martin Joseph】

【Height: 195cm】

【Weight: 270 pounds】

【Lost his left eye during a prison riot, currently using a glass eye】

【Position: Warden】

Just then, her phone rang, and Dick also stopped the car; they had reached their destination.

“You don’t want this job anymore, huh?” The prison warden, bullied by the mayor and appearing fat and bent over, scolded on the phone, “I’m Joseph, Bettywen, you made me wait in the office all day—”

“If you think you’re an internet sensation and don’t need to report for work, go back to being your celebrity cop!”