"Talk. Who are you?"
Batman's voice was flat, but the tension in his body made it obvious—he was fully prepared for combat.
After going through V's intense training, Leo had developed a bit of combat intuition.
He could see it clearly: Batman was the kind of opponent you really didn't want to mess with. Not a single opening on his body. Just standing there, he exuded a suffocating pressure.
It felt like maybe with Kerenzikov in 4th gear he could last a few seconds… but definitely not win.
Yeah… best not to try. He was here to do business, after all—better to make money than trouble.
"My full name is Leonardo DiCaprio. But you can call me Leo. I'm a businessman."
"…"
Batman scrutinized him silently.
It was clear he didn't believe a single word—not even the punctuation.
Several seconds passed before he finally gave a slow nod. "Let's pretend that's true. Then tell me—what are you doing in Gotham?"
"I'm a businessman. I'm here for business. And just so you know… you're my ideal business partner."
Leo smiled and extended his right hand for a handshake.
They were standing about ten meters apart, so the gesture looked a bit ridiculous—but it was something.
Unfortunately, Batman didn't move. The man radiated elite-level indifference.
Leo hated this type. The brooding, silent type. The suffocating awkwardness, the cold shoulder—pure psychological violence.
He withdrew his hand and started glancing around, trying to find a way out.
Batman crushed that hope instantly: "Don't bother. There's a second containment layer beyond this one. Much more secure. You're not getting out.
Now… put these on and come with me."
He pulled out a high-tech pair of handcuffs and tossed them.
Leo caught them, stared down—and groaned.
It was one of those modern cuffs with GPS tracking and electric shocks. No visible lock. Even the best lockpick would weep.
"Put them on," Batman ordered again.
Leo looked up in protest. "I was forced to rob a bank. I didn't even succeed. You've got no right to arrest me! And anyway, where are you taking me—jail?"
"Attempted armed robbery is still a felony. Even if coerced, you'll need to file a statement with the GCPD."
"The gun was fake! A toy! That's not a crime, right!?"
Batman paused. "The gun was real. I checked."
The air went still.
Leo froze, going over the events from a week ago.
He remembered clearly—the Joker tested the gun right in front of him. It shot a flag. The Joker never let it out of his sight. How could it have been swapped?
Batman, a master of criminal psychology, read his face effortlessly: "The Joker gave it to you, didn't he? You got played."
"No way! I fired it! It shot a Stars and Stripes flag!"
"Right. But let me guess—he never reloaded it in front of you, did he?"
Leo blinked.
"If you'd pulled the trigger again… it would've been a real bullet. Classic Joker 'prank.' He's an unpredictable madman.
Besides, I reviewed the witness statements. They say you never held the gun long enough to notice the difference. You couldn't tell from the weight—it was a real firearm."
"…"
"FUCKING JOKER—!"
Leo cracked. The realization hit hard.
Whether he picked the real or "fake" gun… in the end, he was holding a real one.
If he'd pulled the trigger to scare someone, he could've accidentally killed a civilian.
Not that he was a pacifist or morally superior. If it was a thug or the Joker, he'd empty the whole clip with a laugh.
But killing an innocent? That was a problem.
Especially with this guy standing right here—Gotham's walking law.
Trying to salvage some pride, Leo muttered, "You said it yourself—I didn't know it was real, and I never pulled the trigger. I'm clean, dammit!"
Batman said nothing. Just pointed at the cuffs.
Leo's face twisted, but he reluctantly picked them up.
[Leo, your acting's too stiff. Loosen up!]
Pure White's voice came through the comm discreetly.
Leo's eyes flicked. Then he sped up, slipping the cuffs on himself.
Yeah, he was acting. He had spatial powers, after all. These cuffs—small and in contact with his skin—could be instantly shunted into the Singularity space.
If he wanted, he could hold a grenade in one hand and a loaded pistol in the other, and give Batman the jump scare of a lifetime.
Handcuffs? Pfft. Whatever.
Once he was locked up, Batman finally continued: "I'm not taking you to the police. You didn't commit a crime worthy of that. But you're a potential threat to Gotham. I need to observe you for a few days before deciding what to do."
Leo shrugged. "Fine, whatever. Not like I can fight you. If you decide to kick me out, at least buy me a bus ticket to Metropolis. I'll try my luck there."
Batman didn't respond. He silently stepped aside and opened the reinforced door.
Leo trudged forward, trying not to make eye contact—didn't want Batman to see the schemes bubbling in his head.
Beyond the first room was another, larger one.
He scanned it quickly. No turrets, no lethal traps… but there were strange ceiling devices. Pure White noted they might contain knockout gas.
Seriously!?
Batman had built a two-level high-security cell in seven days!?
How the hell did he know Leo would come back through the same route!?
After clearing the second room, they finally reached the surface.
It was almost 8 p.m.—the sky dark and cloudy, matching Leo's mood.
Batman's car was parked right at the alley exit.
Sleek black body. Sharp lines. The perfect fusion of style and menace. Like a predator crouched in the shadows, ready to pounce.
Leo's mood did a full 180.
"The Batmobile! Holy shit—YES!"
He jogged forward, pressing his hands to the headlights like they were the beast's glowing eyes, marveling at the cold steel.
He started rubbing along the hood, tracing every curve.
Then, with the boldness of a child, he tried to open the driver's side.
Failed.
"Can I drive it?"
Batman just looked at him—with a mix of rejection and disdain.
Then he pointed to the passenger seat. Message received.
"…Stingy."
Leo grumbled and walked around to the other side. This time, the door did open.
The moment he got in, his hands were all over the dashboard, poking and prodding everything.
Batman climbed into the driver's seat, about to scold him when a voice came through the comms:
[Master, emergency! The Joker is heading to Illinois Center Tower—he's going to kill Harvey!]
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