Bruce was observing Penguin while taking advantage of a break from the work.

In a typical prison, if inmates were allowed to leave for labour, they would usually follow this procedure:

Ankle monitors would be placed on the inmates. If they strayed from the designated area, the monitors would emit an electronic pulse that would knock the inmates down and notify the guards to retrieve them.

Such inmates, if they attempted to escape, would often face some rough handling—provided they weren’t high-profile violent offenders, the kind that don’t care about taking lives.

From Bruce’s perspective, these murderers should be executed a hundred times over, but Gotham doesn’t have the death penalty.

^[1]TN: Interesting that this is his opinion as Malone

These inmates are the most difficult part of the prison system. They often establish their authority by resisting the guards, rallying other inmates, and using that influence to avoid labour. Guards, in turn, sometimes look the other way to maintain order and even make deals with these ringleaders—providing them with smuggled drugs, weapons, and contraband in exchange for peace within the prison.

So, even though Blackgate Prison had a tradition of sending inmates out for labour, it wasn’t like they’d send someone like Black Mask to dig trenches, right?

Yet here Bruce found himself amidst the “impossible”—Penguin was leading a group of high-profile criminals out for labour, all wearing neon green hooded masks and Batman-branded T-shirts and shorts. Every one of them looked like a mindless zombie, but at least they weren’t resisting, so fewer guards were needed.

A handful of guards stood off to the side, loosely holding their guns and occasionally glancing over.

Meanwhile, small birds flitted around Penguin’s shoulders, blending into the night as they hovered above the inmates’ heads. Bruce lowered his gaze, noticing Penguin had also taken up a shovel and was digging alongside the others, instead of just supervising from the side.

Bruce: “…”

He felt that tonight had given him a significant shock.

To be honest, Bruce didn’t see any issue with the warden forcing the inmates to work. But these criminals weren’t acting right.

Why were there no ankle monitors or guards keeping order, and why had they turned these criminals into emotionless drones? Surely it wasn’t to save on the $3,000 price tag of the monitors and the overtime pay for the guards?

Bruce had resorted to stealing luxury cars out of desperation, but even he didn’t think that cost was too high.

He continued working mechanically like the others, taking advantage of the sparse lighting in the dark sewer to inch closer to Penguin.

Just then, a light approached from the distance, accompanied by the sound of footsteps.

Leading the group was a red-haired man, talking casually with a guard beside him:

“The next step is to pour the concrete. We’ll take care of the day shift, so your people are on for the night?”

The guard grumbled, “Just make sure your guys don’t break the machinery. You know, the ones we brought aren’t exactly geniuses.”

“I get it, I get it,” the redhead chuckled, handing the guard a pack of cigarettes. “After all, you’ve got, what… ‘volunteers’ from Gotham’s new environmental organization?”

Bruce, branded as one of those “not exactly geniuses,” remained silent.

He noticed Penguin stiffen slightly, gripping his tool so hard that the veins on his hand bulged. But he didn’t say anything and simply moved deeper into the shadows.

Does he recognize the red-haired man?

Bruce immediately sized him up, recognizing that the man likely came from a lower social class, and his crew seemed to be used to physical labor—tough but not killers.

When one of the inmates got in the way of one of the workers, he was roughly shoved aside. The red-haired man noticed and placed a firm hand on his subordinate’s shoulder, saying, “Show some respect to our volunteers. They’ve got work to do! Unless you want to take over for him?”

The worker immediately backed down, and no further incidents occurred.

Bruce took a deep breath, calming his mind and focusing on the task at hand.

At least, all he had to do was dig out part of the sewer. But as he worked, he began to remember other details… like raising the height of the sewer, replacing materials with something lighter and more stable, and altering the drainage system, as if he had seen the blueprints before.

“This must be the East End,” he thought. “I remember now—the mayor wanted to revamp the sewer layout in the East End because of recurring floods. They’re especially bad during the summer…”

It was already May. The project had to be completed quickly for the sake of the people living in the East End.

Maybe Clayface or Killer Croc could help…

Wait, why am I thinking about the inmates from the psychiatric ward? Do I know them well?

Bruce shook off the thoughts and continued working. At least it was just labor, nothing connected to the more sinister possibilities he had imagined.

He didn’t know that the locator hidden in his tooth was now transmitting a signal, flashing on the Batcomputer back in the Batcave.

An hour earlier, Tim had told Nightwing, “I’ll go find Bruce. You keep an eye on Vivi.”

Tim had been busy investigating the mastermind behind the Arkham breakout, and so far, they hadn’t located Scarecrow— Dr. Jonathan Crane, the infamous former Gotham University psychology professor turned criminal mastermind and permanent resident of Arkham Asylum.

He had invented a weapon called “Fear Toxin,” and its track record included incapacitating everyone except Poison Ivy and the Joker, even taking down Batman.

If he unleashed it on the city, Gotham would undoubtedly descend into chaos.

Tim had already discovered that the group hired by Black Mask, the ones who attacked Vivi in front of the church, showed signs of having been exposed to the gas, indicating that Scarecrow had been in contact with them.

But why was he focusing on Vivi?

Even within prison, these supervillains had access to a constant flow of information, making Tim suspect that this was a test aimed at the girl, or perhaps at the people connected to her—like the mysterious Mr. C or the ever-active mayor.

During this time, the GCPD had been searching the entire city but found nothing. This gnawed at Tim’s nerves. Was Scarecrow really the only one behind this probing attack? Or was there someone else pulling the strings?

Tim had his suspicions, but the problem was—

In a city like Gotham, overflowing with “talent,” he had too many suspects.

Tim sighed.

Before going to prison, Batman had, of course, prepared contingency plans. While monitoring the Batcave, Tim heard him say, “I’ll definitely realize something’s wrong with my identity—because I’m Batman.”

So, the theoretical seven days would likely be shortened to three or four. Blackgate Prison’s surveillance system had already been partly taken over by the mysterious person responsible for the mayor’s cybersecurity. Tim believed he could hack into it, but that would certainly trigger alarms and retaliation.

“Could Bruce have already broken out?” The breakout seemed earlier than they had anticipated. Gliding through Gotham’s night sky, Tim glanced at the map, tracking Bruce’s location, then switched to nearby cameras. “The East End… Why are Dick and the others in the East End?”

He confirmed Bruce and Dick’s positions, then landed on a nearby rooftop with a clear vantage point—

The surveillance footage became a three-dimensional schematic, highlighting heat signatures. Apart from Bruce, there were many other individuals close by, all underground.

Sitting cross-legged on the rooftop, Tim pulled out his laptop. A palm-sized mechanical bird took flight, darting between the tall buildings and transmitting its footage back to Tim’s screen. “Violin… Iceberg Construction Company… and Blackgate Prison guards?”

He furrowed his brows, and the mechanical bird dropped in altitude, gliding low as it passed over the red-haired man known as “Violin.” It quietly deposited a small, thumb-sized egg into the man’s hat. The egg cracked open into a spider-shaped listening device and stuck to the inside of the hat.

In 24 hours, the device would dissolve without leaving a trace.

The mechanical bird then settled into a nearby bush, its cold mechanical eyes observing the empty street below.

Satisfied that there was no immediate disturbance near Bruce, Tim hacked into the nearby street cameras, catching a glimpse of Vivi and Dick.

Vivi and Nightwing had made a pact—though Nightwing wasn’t fully aware of it.

Nightwing was to come to Rose Manor every morning from 8 AM to 11 AM to teach Vivi various skills, while Vivi would join him from 9 PM to 3 AM for Gotham’s nightly patrols, working together to fight crime. The arrangement would continue until Vivi deemed her training complete.

During patrols, Vivi had to ensure she didn’t kill anyone or use excessive violence against innocents, and Nightwing had to teach her with complete transparency and diligence.

In return, Vivi agreed to pay him 100 gold coins daily—automatically deducted by the system.

If either party broke the contract, the other would have the right to permanently take something unique to the violator—whether physical or intangible.

At the moment, Nightwing was teaching Vivi how to use a grappling hook.

Vivi wore a sleeveless combat suit on top, paired with mid-length shorts and a metal belt, black boots on her feet. Her clothes had subtle dark green embroidery, and her exposed arms bore green markings resembling tattoos. Upon closer inspection, these patterns could cause a slight feeling of dizziness in the observer, though looking away quickly restored normal vision.

This was Vivi’s “Nightwatcher” set, which gave slight boosts to speed, stealth, and burst strength. Her cloak was slung over one shoulder, its high collar covering her face, and her twin ponytails had been undone into a more practical single high ponytail—giving her the essential appearance of a “vigilante,” complete with the gear to hide her identity and move freely.

The set also allowed Vivi to jump higher and sprint faster.

The Bat Drones kept watch over the city, ensuring Batman was always aware of crimes unfolding in the shadows. But tonight was relatively quiet. Nightwing had chosen the chaotic East End to teach Vivi how to escape alleyway combat and get familiar with Gotham’s streets and alleys.

Nightwing had always been a proponent of practical training.

…Though it felt a lot like casing the area for a heist. Was this the famous strategy of being scarier than the criminals you fight?

The lesson was going smoothly until Nightwing noticed they were suddenly surrounded by cats.

Countless cats emerged from every corner, perched on walls, staring from windows, their glowing eyes fixated on the two of them. In total, there were over a hundred cats, their low growls creating a palpable tension that left Nightwing perplexed.

He stopped the lesson and motioned for Vivi to stay behind him.

An elegant black cat slowly walked forward, leaping down from a rooftop and landing on a windowsill. Its gaze cut right through Nightwing, settling on the girl behind him.

【”When can I turn back into a human?”】

Nightwing: “…What the heck!?”

A talking cat?

The cat, wearing a collar with Gotham City’s emblem on it, looked like a well-kept house pet.

【”Shut up, Nightwing! This has nothing to do with you today!”】

The black cat—Catwoman—scratched at the windowsill irritably. After transforming back into a human last time, she had thought the “Cat Medallion” had lost its effect. But just when she had decided to return to Crime Alley to retrieve her gear as “Catwoman,” she found herself transforming into a cat again, right on a rooftop!

The “Cat Medallion” didn’t recognize her anymore and had revoked her ability to turn human.

Selina was absolutely furious. After realizing Vivi was behind this whole “turning into a cat” mess, she’d been staking out at the cathedral, waiting for the girl to appear. But Vivi never showed up!

Now, having finally tracked her down, Selina wasn’t about to lose sight of her target again!

She swore it on the name of all cats!