"This is not the Humiliation Squad."
Standing in the cold rain, Batman joined up with the Windbreaker Warrior beside a halted used car. From there, they could vaguely see the flashlight beams flickering back and forth in the alley ahead.
Even if the Humiliation Squad did escape from Arkham in a hurry, Charise had more hideouts in Gotham City than Batman. All of her squad members had night vision devices in their masks, so they had no need for such old-fashioned tools as flashlights.
The heavy rain masked the sound of the car, while the cold raindrops splashed in little bursts on the hood.
The Windbreaker Warrior pulled up his clothing to shield himself from the rain, took out a notebook, glanced at it, and spoke with a tone of resignation.
"The location is correct, but my little notebook here isn't a real-time information terminal. The Humiliation Squad was here before, but it seems now someone else has taken over."
Batman was merely stating the obvious. Through the sound of the rain, he gathered the noise of breaking doors, shattering glass, and people screaming in pain. Regardless, a crime was in progress and needed to be stopped.
Footsteps were chaotic at the street corner up ahead, and there were no fewer than ten flashlight beams; it was hard to say who they were. Usually, such groups were either gangs or cults.
But cults generally kill without robbing because they spend the time other criminals would use to loot on performing various rituals.
So, upon hearing the sounds of smashing, Batman judged the perpetrators to be a robbery gang.
In Gotham, organized robberies were typically the work of small-time thugs. Who ever saw Penguin Man or Two-Faced Man leading a group to rob?
Batman approached the street corner and peeked around the wet building. In a brief moment, he took in the situation across the street.
A gang was ransacking a small jewelry store, and whoever was inside, whether security or the store owner, lay outside the door, status unknown.
The thugs were dressed in suits and shirts, looking very organized in their actions. There were about a dozen of them, all underlings, but Batman recognized the figure striking a flashy pose by the door.
A blue suit, a Hawaiian shirt with red and black flowers worn underneath, a big gold chain around the neck, and the mask looked like mercury, reflecting mirrored silver that could show other people's reflections.
"It's Facade and his henchmen, the Flash Bomb."
As he spoke, Batman pulled a Bat Dart from his belt, pressed the button on it, and, with a flick of his grappling hook, scaled the side of a building, disappearing into the night.
The Windbreaker Warrior put away his notebook, shrugged helplessly; Batman didn't seem interested in coordination, simply advised him to avoid the Flash Bomb, without mentioning how to cooperate.
To Batman, a dozen people were not worth collaborating with; though Facade was skilled, his henchmen were generally of poor quality.
'Facade' was quite a showman; he enjoyed hiring vagrants to boost his numbers, only to dress them in suits afterwards. It looked like there were a lot of people, but they were never real professional gang members.
In Gotham, posing as a mob boss could sometimes bring significant advantages, but if one's true nature was exposed, the outcome could be dire.
Eric Hansen, formerly a valet at the Two-Faced Man Nightclub, was the real name behind Facade.
Watching wealthy gangster bosses parade around with fancy cars and beauties, always accompanied by a uniformed posse, impressive and intimidating, he constantly observed this scene.
Suddenly inspired, he realized he only needed to wear a mask and put on a bit of a neurotic demeanor; in Gotham, nobody wished to provoke a madman in a mask.
Using the tips he'd been given over the years, accumulating his entire savings of several thousand US Dollars, he bought dozens of cheap suits and went to the streets to hire vagrants with the promise of meals and twenty US Dollars a day.
He quickly formed a crew, sending vagrants to bathe in the sea, trim their hair and beards, and then dress them in matching suits.
There, he transformed into a mob boss himself.
Although those hired were just for appearances, ineffective in reality, others weren't aware; each man hid a brick in his coat, posing as if carrying a gun.
And then he led them to steal from the thieves.
When others were committing a robbery, he surrounded the area with his group of dozens:
"Oh, we've had our eyes on this one too, but since you brothers got to it first, I won't say anything. But surely you can't let my hundreds of brothers come for nothing; how about splitting it halfway?"
Their large numbers made it appear as if everyone carried something, the night hiding the details, nearly fooling ninety-nine percent of people.
Moreover, Facade never demanded it all, just half. When had thugs ever met such a reasonable gang boss? Surrounded by what seemed like a hundred armed henchmen, and he'd let them keep half—it was like a breath of fresh air in the underworld.
When others plotted heists on jewelry stores, banks, or thefts, which needed strategic planning and brainpower, Facade's method was to buy information on the street and intercept others. The other criminals would bring the money to him.
Thus, Facade soon made a name for himself and earned big money.
With money, he stabilized his crew; the former vagrants had relatively low demands, keeping labor costs minimal.
Some viewed his love for unearned gains as akin to a hyena seizing others' prey; others believed he had the grace of an old-school gang, always maintaining a bottom line.
No matter if it's fans or foes, Front has gained popularity, and more and more people are willing to follow him. He truly made a name for himself.
After several large-scale gang wars and cases, he caught Batman's attention, his gang even larger than Penguin Man's.
Before he was captured, not even Batman could figure out his background, wondering if he was another family from Gotham or a dragon from another city?
However, as the investigation deepened, Batman finally discovered an ironic truth; Front was actually just a valet, and he had even tipped him the last time he visited Two-Faced Man Nightclub as Bruce...
Those gang members were actually just hired homeless people, serving as a façade.
So, when Batman showed up to arrest Front, those homeless people, facing the symbol of Gotham, didn't have the will to resist at all and fled once they saw some people with broken bones.
The gang of over a thousand collapsed instantly, leaving Batman and Front to face off one-on-one.
To be fair, despite being a valet, Front was surprisingly skilled in combat, his street fighting skills almost on par with Red Hood Jason.
But unfortunately for Batman, that's all there was to it.
Given Front's cunning and deceit, he was sent to Arkham. As a swindler, he was at the bottom of the social hierarchy in Arkham. When big names like Joker or Scarecrow broke out, they didn't even bother taking him along; he had terrible connections.
But upon this escape, he seemed to have taken the lesson to heart. He gathered his men and started robbing, even asking his subordinates to shed blood as training.
If you don't know your opponent, you need to test; but once you recognize them, Batman already has a plan...
After Windbreaker Warrior turned his head to avoid the flash bomb, all the thugs were already down when he looked again. Batman dove from the rooftop, knocking Front down with a flash bomb and assault, while the others went down with just punches and kicks.
Batman stood up, clutching his side, still somewhat inconvenienced by the injuries left by Bane, but dealing with someone like Front didn't require complex tactics.
These so-called thugs likely didn't even have dinner, so weak that a sweeping kick took down a group. Those hit by the flash bomb just lay on the ground covering their eyes, with no intention of fighting back.
Windbreaker Man walked through the rain, stepping over the fallen crowd to Batman's side, speaking in a low voice.
"The store owner is dead."
"...."
"Some homeless and beggars become exceptionally manic after seeing blood." Windbreaker Warrior again nudged Front with his toe, who looked to have serious concussion.
Batman had nothing to say; this was Gotham. The jewelry store owner might disdain the homeless during the day, and yet at night, they became the hands that ended his life.
Gotham was just like that; anyone could suddenly die, and social status and wealth didn't provide any guarantees.
"Find the next target."
He just stood silently, letting the rain cascade down his shoulders, the rushing sound of the rain drowning out everything once more.
And Windbreaker Warrior didn't disappoint him; the seemingly inconspicuous little notebook within it helped Batman find many fugitives.
Just that, whether by coincidence or not, the people found often had tragic fates or weren't entirely villainous.
Time and again, Batman knocked down foes, while Windbreaker Warrior simply became an intelligence station, with virtually no presence.
He only needed to lead, wait, then lead again, endlessly repeating this process.
And the rain grew heavier, the night darker, yet people like Antlion Butterfly and Bane, hired by Joker, hadn't reappeared.
After circling the city for some time, Ah Fu finally brought good news; Gotham's surveillance network had been rebuilt, allowing Batman to monitor the entire city's surface conditions via the Bat Terminal.
Batman nodded slightly, meanwhile telling Windbreaker Warrior that he can go home now, as he had seen the opponent's strength, and upcoming foes weren't ones Windbreaker Man could handle.
Windbreaker Warrior had no objections, seemingly exhausted: "Alright, it's been great fighting alongside Batman, although I have some information I find quite urgent."
"Speak."
"My informants saw Catwoman operating in the city before; she seems to be planning to steal from Gotham Museum." Windbreaker Warrior opened the car door, sat inside, only to find the car truly stalled, had to unwillingly step out.
Upon hearing this, Batman fell into deep thought.
Why does Selena want to steal from the museum? Could it be that her reason for not marrying him was still to steal? But even if she wanted the entire museum, Batman could buy it for her, so why steal?
"My car broke down, can you give me a ride in the Batmobile?" Windbreaker Warrior walked to his side helplessly, though the expression on his mask remained consistent, his tone revealed his helplessness.