106-108

Chapter 106: Seamless 

On this Mother's Day, everyone was absolutely swamped. 

Someone helped Jonathan break out of Arkham; Batman got caught in the escaping Scarecrow's gas trap; Commissioner Gordon and his guys chased Bruce late into the night; Harvey was digging up dirt on the old connections between Thomas Wayne and the Falcone family; and Cody tried out a new deep sleep skill he'd just picked up, face-planting right into the sofa and sleeping like the dead. 

So, what were the Falcones up to? 

Midnight, on Gotham City's cross-harbor bridge. 

A hulking figure grabbed a man in a black suit, hoisting him up single-handedly like a chicken. 

"Name?" the burly woman demanded. 

The unlucky guy being held struggled desperately, glancing down at his dangling feet. He was high up now, with cold water rushing below him. If he was incredibly lucky, there was a slim chance he might survive the fall. But if his luck was bad, hitting the water could snap his neck, limbs, or spine instantly, leading to drowning. And if his luck was just average, his head would connect with the surface first, resulting in an unconscious end. 

"Gunsmith, the guy's called Gunsmith!" He immediately started talking non-stop, like spilling beans from a bamboo tube. "He said he makes one every month--" 

"A custom point two-two caliber pistol!" 

Clearly, compared to the still-green Batman, the Falcone family was far more plugged into the city's firearm circulation networks. 

"The address? Give me the address, and I'll let you go." 

"China... Chinatown, Banker's Teahouse, please, just let me go!" 

Sofia's lips curled into a cold smile, and then she simply let go. 

"Ahhhh--" 

Thud 

A muffled splash echoed. Sofia wasn't interested in sticking around to see if a little punk like that had survived. She got into the car with the other family members and headed straight for Chinatown. 

Deep in the dead of night, the Banker's Teahouse, with its Chinese sign, stood silently by the street. The entire black convoy of the Falcone family had their lights off. Sofia crouched low; her large frame moved with surprisingly little noise. She raised her gun and crept all the way to the back door of the teahouse, used a hairpin to pick the lock, and then burst inside. 

Inside the pitch-black shop, only a sliver of moonlight filtered in from the open door, providing the sole source of light. In the dimness, Sofia thought she saw something glinting on the floor. The color was dark, but with a hint of red. 

No, that wasn't right. There was the metallic tang of blood. 

Sofia immediately tightened her grip on her gun, reaching out to find the light switch inside the shop. 

With a click, the white lights flooded the entire teahouse, illuminating a workbench piled high with firearms and tools, walls stacked with weaponry, the floor soaked in blood, a fat man lying dead, and on the ground, a baby pacifier, a .22 caliber pistol, and a brightly colored Mother's Day flower basket. 

Sofia gritted her teeth inwardly. The Gunsmith, completely blindsided, had been shot dead by a regular customer. None of the weapons in the room had done him any good. Otherwise, they might have at least had a standoff. 

She searched the shop meticulously, but there was absolutely nothing else of value left. In the end, frustrated, she could only leave Chinatown with the rest of the family. 

The next day, the Holiday Killer made headlines in the Gotham Gazette once more. Children carried cypress saplings, quietly planting them along the edge of the woods outside the cemetery. 

It's worth mentioning that the man who fell into the water was incredibly lucky; he actually survived. Unfortunately for him, Batman paid him a little visit that very night to "talk things over" – and he confessed everything easily. After all, the first time's always the hardest, but the second time around, you know the drill. 

Back in the Batcave, Batman carefully sifted through the information he'd dug up in Chinatown. This person was incredibly secretive; even his network of contacts living in Chinatown could barely give him any solid leads on this mysterious employer. But the fact that it was "Seamless," or "Perfect," in its execution, that was information in itself. 

"Two things stand out," he muttered to himself. "First, he didn't kill a mother on Mother's Day. Second, we're starting to get a handle on him, otherwise, he wouldn't have needed to silence a witness." 

He looked over the stack of cases, one after another, pondering. "He has significant investigative and counter-investigative skills and experience. It's highly likely he's involved in a related field – maybe a detective, a mobster, or a professional hitman." 

"He has the ability to tap into Gotham City's deepest firearm distribution networks. So, he's definitely a local, and one who knows Gotham inside and out." 

"He's smart. Very smart. Criminals who can pull off multiple hits in Gotham and consistently evade capture aren't common. Maybe he's never shown any criminal tendencies before, or even broken the law." 

"His marksmanship is excellent, terrifyingly so. The shooting required in most of these cases doesn't really narrow down the suspect pool, but this one does. It could be a stealth shot or a surprise attack, the targets were all within a few meters. That kind of shooting isn't terribly difficult; anyone with a good shooting foundation could do it. But the slaughter at Maroni's hideout – that's something no average person could pull off." 

"He hates Gotham's mob. He's targeting anyone from the Falcone family, the hired Irish mob, the youngest son who stayed out of the family business, the Maroni family... anyone who might expose his identity, he wants them dead." 

"He knew Alberto, otherwise, he couldn't have gotten close to him so easily. But he didn't know Johnny Viti, otherwise, there would have been no reason to risk exposure by sneaking into his house." 

Then, his gaze settled on two particularly conspicuous victims. 

"The Irish mob. This small gang is basically just hired muscle, a tool anyone could use. Why kill them?" 

"Alberto Falcone. Why him? That night, Carla Viti was also on the ship's railing. If the goal was to hit Roman, wouldn't Carla, who runs part of the family business and is Falcone's sister, have been a better target?" 

If it wasn't about profit, then all that's left is revenge. 

"The Irish mob has done a lot of dirty work. The most recent was blowing up Harvey's place." 

"Alberto... It just doesn't add up. He had virtually no enemies, no real stake in anything. Killing him only hurt Roman, and served no other purpose." 

"Could the killer be Roman's mistress?" 

This sudden, jarring theory that popped into his head made Batman's mouth twitch. For the first time ever, he genuinely wondered if he was losing his grip. 

But regardless, he added it to his list. Doing things meticulously was always his way. 

"I need to check the records and member lists from all the firing ranges. Cross-reference them with local police personnel, the D.A.'s office, known mob members, and anyone with a high education or a history of demonstrating high intelligence." 

"If Harvey only acted once, imitating the first case by hitting the Irish mob, and wasn't behind the others, then the logic holds. But God, I really hope it's not Harvey..." 

"Wait. The hospital has surveillance footage." 

With that thought, he immediately got up and exited the Batcave. 

Chapter 107: Two Cases Solved 

Getting surveillance footage from the hospital wasn't a big ask for Batman. Even if the doctors weren't likely to cooperate with his investigation, the Bat-hacker prepared by Lucius was more than up to the task. 

At this stage, Batman was still a bit younger. Once he evolved a bit more, he'd start thinking about adding backdoors to hospital servers for remote monitoring. 

Luckily, Gotham Hospital hadn't deleted the surveillance data related to Harvey from last November. Because Gotham City is a peculiar place, to begin with, hospitals back up videos for ten days related to all major violent incidents, including controversial surveillance footage. The footage from when Griselda was hospitalized fit both criteria. 

As for who pushed for and funded this measure? Of course, that would be Bruce Wayne. 

The combination of the District Attorney's home being bombed, the Holiday Killer's crime, and the DA causing a fuss demanding to see the surveillance footage meant that day's recording was preserved. 

After copying the video and playing it back at triple speed in the Batcave, Batman breathed a sigh of relief. 

Although the curtain around the bed partition was drawn, only allowing a small portion of the bed's edge to be seen, Harvey's figure was within that small visible area, and he was there the entire night. Even when he lay down to sleep, a small part of his back was slightly exposed. 

However, this video wasn't without its anomalies. There were two instances of blank screen throughout the night. 

The first time was about ten seconds of static, which seemed to be just a simple glitch with no obvious cause. 

The second time, the hospital experienced a power outage. However, Gotham Hospital has a backup power supply, so the system switched over in less than a minute. This was the second blank spot in the surveillance video. 

It often rains in Gotham, so thunder is nothing unusual. Occasionally, lightning strikes cause power issues at the hospital, which is exactly why the emergency backup power supply was installed. 

But Batman didn't believe in coincidences. If someone wanted to short-circuit Gotham Hospital's power supply and trip the breakers, they would only need to do some research and understand the hospital's specific layout. 

Most people wouldn't do something so difficult and thankless because the backup power system and the main power system aren't easy to target simultaneously. And those capable of targeting both simultaneously could just directly bribe a nurse or hire a few hitmen. This also led to Gotham Hospital being less vigilant about its usual power safety. 

"Two blank spots, seemingly two different methods. The first is camera interference, the second is a power cut..." 

As he thought this, something stirred within him. The night's contemplation and this surveillance footage gave him an idea – there were two people whose pasts were worth investigating. 

A few days later, at Cody's home. 

"I told you to use the door! Do you ever listen to anyone?" 

Cody sat on his bed, protesting to the "Bat-monster" who had suddenly appeared by his window. 

"You were involved in the bombing, and you also shielded Harvey's surveillance signal. You understand technical methods." 

"And?" 

"You deleted the hospital's surveillance footage." 

Cody raised an eyebrow. He had thought the minor details of this case wouldn't be brought up anymore. 

"I went to retrieve a cross; it's supposed to bring good luck." 

"You didn't cause the power outage." 

"What power outage?" 

"After you left the hospital that night, did anyone follow you?" 

Cody was stunned. 

Suddenly, a chilling sensation rose from the pit of his stomach, and goosebumps crept up his spine. For a normal person, such a thought was simply too terrifying. 

"You mean, after I left the hospital, someone came out with me while the surveillance was down?" 

"A killer followed you out," Batman's voice was calm. "Right behind you from that very room." 

"He went to get his coat and gun, you went to get your Cornucopia. You both heard the Irish gang celebrating outside the Astoria Towers Hotel." 

"...!" Cody swallowed hard, looking back at Batman. His face was still expressionless, showing neither joy nor anger. 

"Are you sure it was him? And he did the subsequent cases too?" 

"Not him, her. Just this one case." 

"Griselda killed the Irish gang?" 

Cody's mind suddenly became clear. 

"She was imitating the crime... What about the first case?" 

"Griselda's approach can be applied to that case too. Richard had a girlfriend named Heidi. She was one of Johnny Viti's... former girlfriends." 

Cody would bet anything that he was about to use the word "mistresses." 

"So she knew where Johnny lived, knew his habits, the layout of his room, how to sneak into his house. She recognized Johnny on the street, but Johnny didn't remember her at all and even killed Richard right there. She was avenging Richard's death. So, how did Griselda get back to the hospital?" 

"She used to be a nurse at Gotham Hospital." 

"She knew the hospital's security vulnerabilities..." Cody sighed. "She read the case files Harvey brought home and knew how to mimic the crime. She might not have found the Irish gang originally, but they were laughing too loudly. 

And she had great aim, capable of surprising and killing five people before they could draw their guns." 

"To your marksmanship, everyone is 'great'." 

Cody clenched his fists but managed to resist the urge to hit him. After all, he couldn't win. 

"If it weren't for me, she would have just deleted the surveillance that night, not created a power outage, right?" 

This question went unanswered. Batman's figure had already vanished from the room. 

Cody couldn't help himself. He ran to the window, raised his voice, and shouted. 

"Some crimes are beyond the reach of the law! Therefore, to some extent, private revenge is justified!" 

He couldn't do more, only hoping that DC's greatest detective could accept the view of another... well, a different kind of "great" detective. 

The cases seemed to have made a breakthrough, yet also no progress at all. On one hand, the theories were reasonable, but evidence was hard to find. On the other hand, Gotham's justice system was indeed disappointing. 

Johnny Viti, not to mention him, is Roman's nephew and has been sued countless times without ever being convicted. And the Irish gang could quickly get out of prison under their godfather's protection. If the evidence were handed over to the court, who would return justice to Heidi and Griselda? 

For the next while, Batman was busy running around various shooting ranges and private clubs. He had the means to get membership lists and the names of skilled marksmen; it just required some time and money. 

"Master Bruce, you ought to rest." 

Alfred placed a steaming cup of hot tea and a Bat-shaped sandwich next to Batman. "You've been staring at these dozens – perhaps hundreds – of names and pieces of information for quite some time now." 

"I know, Alfred." Batman instinctively took the tea, his eyes still quickly scanning name after name on the lists. But even after finishing the list of high scores from the shooting range run by the Falcone family, he still couldn't find the name he was looking for. 

"Alfred," he suddenly said. "I need to take a trip." 

Chapter 108: Might As Well Let Batman Handle It 

"What? Mr. Wayne is going away?" 

Upon hearing Alfred's announcement, Cody's face showed... well, not exactly joy, more like regret. 

"Ah, it's a bit of a shame I won't get to see Mr. Wayne. But that's alright, in Gotham, we're bound to meet sooner or later. A gentleman's acquaintance doesn't need to be rushed, right? Oh, speaking of which, Mr. Alfred, how do you make these little cookies?" 

He picked up his teacup and took a bite of a cookie. Ever since Batman told him he'd be busy lately, Cody had started frequenting Wayne Manor for meals. Alfred's cooking was absolutely masterful; his pastries were genuinely delicious, and the tea was great too. He planned to seriously learn some tricks from him. 

Besides, he wasn't just mooching. He'd bring homemade snacks with him. The ingredients from his 'system' and his own skills weren't half bad. Alfred didn't seem to mind these 'dropping by' visits – Wayne Manor had its share of sycophantic guests looking for something, but not many gossipy, snack-loving neighbors just dropping in. 

Though you couldn't exactly call him a neighbor; it still took Cody some time to drive over. 

Regardless, Alfred had developed a good impression of this young man who didn't seem interested in climbing the social ladder. In fact, everything about his visits that touched upon 'high society' felt completely out of place for him. If not for the sake of etiquette, he might have even shown up in casual clothes. But for the accommodating and tolerant Alfred, sincerity and good will themselves were worth more than most formalities. 

In the days without Batman, even Gotham's criminals were slightly happier for a bit – but not that happy, because during this time, the city had seen a rise in some seriously weird stuff. 

"Charlie, hey, Charlie!" 

Sneaky voices echoed in a house. Masked figures huddled together, whispering as if afraid of being overheard by neighbors. 

"What's up, Walt?" 

"Did you finish searching?" 

"Yeah, you?" 

"Same." 

After their brief exchange, both pairs of eyes instinctively turned to the living room floor. There lay a man and a woman, their hands, feet, and bodies tightly bound. At that moment, their bodies were twitching unnaturally from fear, tears and snot blurring their faces. With two thugs pointing guns at their heads, the couple didn't dare struggle even slightly. 

"So... what about them?" 

"Can't we just leave 'em?" 

"Idiot! Then why'd you call my name? Is this your first day doing this?!" 

"I... damn it! You called my name too!" 

Hearing this, the couple's eyes immediately filled with despair. They frantically shook their heads at the two thugs, desperately trying to utter a plea for mercy, but their mouths were sealed tight with tape. Only muffled whimpers escaped their throats. 

"What should we do? Kill 'em?" 

"Don't use the gun, too noisy. I'll go find a knife in their kitchen." 

One thug got up and headed towards the kitchen. The other thug watched the two people struggling on the floor, 

Suddenly changing his mind. 

"Charlie, grab a wet towel." 

"What for?" 

"Gotta wash her face, otherwise there's no point." 

Seeing Walt pull a small condom out of his pocket and prepare to drop his pants, Charlie instantly grew anxious. He swiftly kicked Walt in the back: "Damn it, we're running out of time! You wanna make things complicated?!" 

"What the hell! Why'd you hit me! Are you crazy!" 

"You're the one who's crazy! Slit their throats and let's get out of here! Stop leaving more evidence!" 

The two thugs argued about how to deal with the two living people, like arguing over how to handle two live chickens on a cutting board. 

Just then, there was a dull thud against the window sill. The two spun their heads around to look. A large bird, a vulture or eagle, swooped onto the window and pecked fiercely with its sturdy beak. 

"Smash!" 

In the instant the window glass shattered, a dark figure swung past the window. Two blow darts accurately hit the two thugs, causing them to immediately collapse unconscious onto the floor. 

Clatter. The kitchen knife in Charlie's hand dropped to the ground. A few meters away, the two tightly bound victims' eyes lit up with joy. They immediately began wriggling towards the knife. Only their wrists were tied; their fingers could still move. As long as they could reach the knife, they could free themselves. 

The figure from outside rolled into the room, expertly stripped the two thugs' clothes and tied them into knots. Then, lifting them, he used the knots to hang them on the window sill. Four bare butts swung in the night breeze. 

"This area's done. Come on, let's go to the next place." 

The two victims still bound inside the house stared dumbfounded as the black-robed figure climbed back out the window, their hearts pounding. 

Wearing his black robe, Cody skillfully scaled down the building's exterior wall, reaching the ground in just over ten seconds. He cocked his ear, listening to the messages from the birds in the sky, and then quickly pulled out that wheelchair. 

At this moment, all the lights on the wheelchair had vanished. The special dark coating covering it made it almost blend in with the Gotham night. This was Cody's five-thousand-dollar "extreme mod" upgrade – the wheelchair's high-speed night mode. 

In this mode, the wheelchair's sound and light reflection were greatly reduced, and its speed limit was boosted to 200 km/h, making it the most suitable mode for night travel. Of course, the downside was that if the driver's skills weren't strong enough, it would be easily hit and flipped by other cars that couldn't see it clearly. To avoid this, Cody specifically spent ten thousand dollars to upgrade his wheelchair driving proficiency to Master level. 

Why the obsession with a wheelchair? Because its size could pass through most of Gotham's narrow areas, and its flexibility and speed surpassed those of an average car. The cost of the extreme mod also covered changing its rain and wind-breaking shell into bulletproof material. It could now even be used as cover in a gunfight. 

Ever since acquiring the Language of Nature, Cody could receive even more information. All the birds, beasts, flowers, and trees in Gotham City were chattering away at him. This information didn't exactly make him crazy, but it certainly made him uncomfortable, because once he heard news about a crime, it meant he had to go deal with it again. 

Before, he could comfort himself by saying Batman was in Gotham, so there was no need for him to interfere with his vigilante activities. But now, Batman was temporarily gone. 

This meant Cody was one of the few people left in Gotham with the willingness and means to stop serious crimes. 

Cody had no choice in the matter. He really wanted to pretend he hadn't heard, but he truly disliked seeing people get hurt. Thus, vigilante activities targeting serious crimes, like tonight, came into being. 

"This guy stealing? Ignore him, not enough time, not a serious crime." 

"This streaker? Ha, what a character, made me laugh. Don't even need me to do anything." 

"This drug deal? Five minutes to handle it. Heh heh, tomorrow they won't dare show their faces on the street." 

Guided by the nature throughout the city, the dark wheelchair roamed like a ghost through Gotham's streets and alleys. 

In the days Batman had disappeared, Gotham City was likely about to gain another strange urban legend.