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Chapter 227: This Time It Will Be Different
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*Author: Rowing Without Oars 233*
Orin Vale had no idea why, but Gotham City seemed to have an exceptional number of abandoned venues.
There were abandoned circuses, amusement parks, warehouses, steel mills, and factories. Besides providing an ever-growing supply of supernatural material for Gotham's burgeoning urban legends, these places were also five-star hotels favored by all manner of assassins, madmen, aliens, and dark wizards.
Sometimes, Orin Vale had the absurd thought that if he ever got bored and tore the roofs off all of Gotham's dilapidated and abandoned buildings, he might just find that their occupancy rate was a staggering one hundred percent.
And today, the place Orin Vale had come to was an abandoned swimming pool.
The huge, silent, and empty building was like a forgotten ancient temple. Whatever glory it once possessed had long since faded. The former clamor and liveliness were now replaced by a dead silence. Under Gotham's perpetual night, it lay like a tired giant beast, each dilapidated brick and stone seemingly whispering forgotten tales.
According to Gordon's intelligence, the members of Intergang from Metropolis were hiding here.
He would first try to do things Batman's way. An abandoned building serving as a temporary base was obviously not as heavily guarded as the Iceberg Lounge. Orin Vale easily found a skylight and entered a top-floor compartment.
Using his X-ray vision, he glanced down through the partition wall. There were quite a few people in the building. A group of Intergang thugs was gathered around a round table for a meeting.
Just as Orin Vale was trying to listen in on their conversation, he heard a sound behind him.
The thud of feet on the ground, followed by a pounce. Someone had launched an attack on him from behind.
His thoughts automatically accelerated, and time-space seemed to freeze. Among the suspended dust motes, only faint electric arcs flickered and flowed. Orin Vale unhurriedly turned around and sized up the assailant, who was now frozen mid-air.
It was actually a woman.
She had a rare 36D figure—though perhaps it was the tight black leather that made it seem so impressive. Her uniform had the distinct look of something out of a fetish video.
With a cat-eared mask, black boots, and a leather whip hanging from her waist that screamed "dominatrix," her identity was so obvious even a random passerby could recognize her.
Selina Kyle, codename Catwoman, Batman's official pairing... or the closest character to it.
This was mainly due to a seismic, fan-enraging event in the comics circle a few years prior. A certain audacious writer had arranged a milestone event that involved a crossover of countless comic issues: the Wedding of the Century for Batman and Catwoman.
The result was that after all the shipping content had been served and the atmosphere perfectly set, when the issue where the two, after countless tribulations, were finally about to get married arrived, the BatCat fandom readers joyfully bought the long-awaited comic. They thought they would finally see their ship sail, but who would have thought that upon opening it, they found the bride had run away, the wedding was off, the audience was stunned, and the writer was universally condemned.
Only then did everyone understand that the massive, hyped-up wedding buildup was all for this final serving of bitter disappointment.
Of course, at this stage, marriage was still a distant prospect. Batman and Catwoman had likely only known each other for a few months.
Orin Vale looked at the time-stopped Catwoman suspended in mid-air before him. After a moment's thought, he took a step to the side.
Time resumed its flow.
Catwoman's target vanished in a flash within a single frame. Her full-frontal charge failed, and she was sent tumbling headfirst in an unprepared "chest-braking" incident.
Fortunately, she had enough padding for fall cushioning, so she was probably fine.
"What was that...?"
Catwoman rubbed her nose as she got up, looking at "Batman" with some confusion.
Was he always this fast?
But Orin Vale had only shifted a single step to the side, which wasn't too obvious, so she was momentarily uncertain, wondering if her eyes had deceived her.
"What are you doing here?" Orin Vale asked.
Catwoman giggled. "What else can a girl be doing out in the middle of the night? Looking for fun, of course~"
Saying so, she tried to lean against him again.
Orin Vale expertly sidestepped, and Catwoman leaned into empty air once more.
She shot him a resentful look. "You've changed, Little Bat. You weren't like this in my bedroom the other night..."
Orin Vale paused in thought.
Hmm, so they'd already reached that stage. It seemed Batman was faster than he'd imagined...
But he didn't know if this was a blessing or a curse.
Ever since that bizarre "Wedding of the Century" fiasco, Catwoman had lost much of her popularity as the official pairing.
"This is business," Orin Vale said sternly. "This is an Intergang stronghold. They're plotting something in Gotham. Are you with them?"
This wouldn't be anything new. Catwoman often walked the line between the underworld and legitimate society. Sometimes she would swear to Batman she would retire from crime, but other times she would participate in various activities with the Gotham fan clubs.
"No," Catwoman said, shaking her head repeatedly with a wronged expression. "I just heard there was good stuff here, the kind many people are willing to pay for. I'm not like some people who are loaded and can blow millions on their hobby every night. A single girl has to make a living in this city, you know..."
Got it. She was here to steal something.
*Boom!*
The wall to their side suddenly exploded, sending debris flying. Both of them jumped back as a colossal, burly figure appeared in the hole.
He was absurdly muscular, like a sculpture made of muscle. His two-meter frame was like a small mountain, his muscles clearly defined. He wore a mask over his face, and his mere presence exuded immense pressure.
"Bane!" Catwoman exclaimed.
Bane, a villain in the Batman series renowned for his strength, famous for having once broken Batman's spine with a back-breaking blow.
He had appeared on the news a month ago, challenging Batman.
Bane was born and raised in a prison that was like Hell. He earned respect with his fists and became a hero within the prison. His upbringing made him a firm believer in the law of the jungle, and he worshiped power, taking the greatest pleasure in challenging the strong. That was why he came to Gotham and issued a declaration of war to Batman, seeking to decide with fists and technique who was the strongest and who would dominate Gotham.
And Batman had responded to his challenge and showed up for the appointment...
...wearing heavy exoskeleton armor.
On that day, Bane learned about the power of capital.
The greatest strength, the most exquisite technique, were all laughable in the face of the Power of Money.
"Why are you here?" Catwoman asked in a low voice.
"Because this gives me another chance to challenge Batman." Bane cracked his knuckles. "I don't care who I work with, as long as I can achieve my goal. And now, my only goal is you, Batman."
"Last time, you won through despicable means, but not again!"
Bane flipped a switch on his body.
The Titan venom from the device on his back rapidly flowed through the tubes, flooding his system. His eyes bulged as he let out a low roar of "Arrrghhh!" His muscles swelled at a visible rate, each one looking like it was about to burst. His body rapidly grew into a giant over three meters tall.
"See? This time, I am the one with the power!"
Bane's voice became rough and deep as he bellowed.
"This time, there's no fancy armor to protect you! This time, you will see who is the strongest in Gotham!"
Orin Vale, wrapped in his cape, calmly watched the physically expanding, bloodshot-eyed Bane.
He couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.
Sigh, what an unlucky kid...
(end of chapter)
---
*Author: Rowing Without Oars 233*
Orin Vale had no idea why, but Gotham City seemed to have an exceptional number of abandoned venues.
There were abandoned circuses, amusement parks, warehouses, steel mills, and factories. Besides providing an ever-growing supply of supernatural material for Gotham's burgeoning urban legends, these places were also five-star hotels favored by all manner of assassins, madmen, aliens, and dark wizards.
Sometimes, Orin Vale had the absurd thought that if he ever got bored and tore the roofs off all of Gotham's dilapidated and abandoned buildings, he might just find that their occupancy rate was a staggering one hundred percent.
And today, the place Orin Vale had come to was an abandoned swimming pool.
The huge, silent, and empty building was like a forgotten ancient temple. Whatever glory it once possessed had long since faded. The former clamor and liveliness were now replaced by a dead silence. Under Gotham's perpetual night, it lay like a tired giant beast, each dilapidated brick and stone seemingly whispering forgotten tales.
According to Gordon's intelligence, the members of Intergang from Metropolis were hiding here.
He would first try to do things Batman's way. An abandoned building serving as a temporary base was obviously not as heavily guarded as the Iceberg Lounge. Orin Vale easily found a skylight and entered a top-floor compartment.
Using his X-ray vision, he glanced down through the partition wall. There were quite a few people in the building. A group of Intergang thugs was gathered around a round table for a meeting.
Just as Orin Vale was trying to listen in on their conversation, he heard a sound behind him.
The thud of feet on the ground, followed by a pounce. Someone had launched an attack on him from behind.
His thoughts automatically accelerated, and time-space seemed to freeze. Among the suspended dust motes, only faint electric arcs flickered and flowed. Orin Vale unhurriedly turned around and sized up the assailant, who was now frozen mid-air.
It was actually a woman.
She had a rare 36D figure—though perhaps it was the tight black leather that made it seem so impressive. Her uniform had the distinct look of something out of a fetish video.
With a cat-eared mask, black boots, and a leather whip hanging from her waist that screamed "dominatrix," her identity was so obvious even a random passerby could recognize her.
Selina Kyle, codename Catwoman, Batman's official pairing... or the closest character to it.
This was mainly due to a seismic, fan-enraging event in the comics circle a few years prior. A certain audacious writer had arranged a milestone event that involved a crossover of countless comic issues: the Wedding of the Century for Batman and Catwoman.
The result was that after all the shipping content had been served and the atmosphere perfectly set, when the issue where the two, after countless tribulations, were finally about to get married arrived, the BatCat fandom readers joyfully bought the long-awaited comic. They thought they would finally see their ship sail, but who would have thought that upon opening it, they found the bride had run away, the wedding was off, the audience was stunned, and the writer was universally condemned.
Only then did everyone understand that the massive, hyped-up wedding buildup was all for this final serving of bitter disappointment.
Of course, at this stage, marriage was still a distant prospect. Batman and Catwoman had likely only known each other for a few months.
Orin Vale looked at the time-stopped Catwoman suspended in mid-air before him. After a moment's thought, he took a step to the side.
Time resumed its flow.
Catwoman's target vanished in a flash within a single frame. Her full-frontal charge failed, and she was sent tumbling headfirst in an unprepared "chest-braking" incident.
Fortunately, she had enough padding for fall cushioning, so she was probably fine.
"What was that...?"
Catwoman rubbed her nose as she got up, looking at "Batman" with some confusion.
Was he always this fast?
But Orin Vale had only shifted a single step to the side, which wasn't too obvious, so she was momentarily uncertain, wondering if her eyes had deceived her.
"What are you doing here?" Orin Vale asked.
Catwoman giggled. "What else can a girl be doing out in the middle of the night? Looking for fun, of course~"
Saying so, she tried to lean against him again.
Orin Vale expertly sidestepped, and Catwoman leaned into empty air once more.
She shot him a resentful look. "You've changed, Little Bat. You weren't like this in my bedroom the other night..."
Orin Vale paused in thought.
Hmm, so they'd already reached that stage. It seemed Batman was faster than he'd imagined...
But he didn't know if this was a blessing or a curse.
Ever since that bizarre "Wedding of the Century" fiasco, Catwoman had lost much of her popularity as the official pairing.
"This is business," Orin Vale said sternly. "This is an Intergang stronghold. They're plotting something in Gotham. Are you with them?"
This wouldn't be anything new. Catwoman often walked the line between the underworld and legitimate society. Sometimes she would swear to Batman she would retire from crime, but other times she would participate in various activities with the Gotham fan clubs.
"No," Catwoman said, shaking her head repeatedly with a wronged expression. "I just heard there was good stuff here, the kind many people are willing to pay for. I'm not like some people who are loaded and can blow millions on their hobby every night. A single girl has to make a living in this city, you know..."
Got it. She was here to steal something.
*Boom!*
The wall to their side suddenly exploded, sending debris flying. Both of them jumped back as a colossal, burly figure appeared in the hole.
He was absurdly muscular, like a sculpture made of muscle. His two-meter frame was like a small mountain, his muscles clearly defined. He wore a mask over his face, and his mere presence exuded immense pressure.
"Bane!" Catwoman exclaimed.
Bane, a villain in the Batman series renowned for his strength, famous for having once broken Batman's spine with a back-breaking blow.
He had appeared on the news a month ago, challenging Batman.
Bane was born and raised in a prison that was like Hell. He earned respect with his fists and became a hero within the prison. His upbringing made him a firm believer in the law of the jungle, and he worshiped power, taking the greatest pleasure in challenging the strong. That was why he came to Gotham and issued a declaration of war to Batman, seeking to decide with fists and technique who was the strongest and who would dominate Gotham.
And Batman had responded to his challenge and showed up for the appointment...
...wearing heavy exoskeleton armor.
On that day, Bane learned about the power of capital.
The greatest strength, the most exquisite technique, were all laughable in the face of the Power of Money.
"Why are you here?" Catwoman asked in a low voice.
"Because this gives me another chance to challenge Batman." Bane cracked his knuckles. "I don't care who I work with, as long as I can achieve my goal. And now, my only goal is you, Batman."
"Last time, you won through despicable means, but not again!"
Bane flipped a switch on his body.
The Titan venom from the device on his back rapidly flowed through the tubes, flooding his system. His eyes bulged as he let out a low roar of "Arrrghhh!" His muscles swelled at a visible rate, each one looking like it was about to burst. His body rapidly grew into a giant over three meters tall.
"See? This time, I am the one with the power!"
Bane's voice became rough and deep as he bellowed.
"This time, there's no fancy armor to protect you! This time, you will see who is the strongest in Gotham!"
Orin Vale, wrapped in his cape, calmly watched the physically expanding, bloodshot-eyed Bane.
He couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.
Sigh, what an unlucky kid...
(end of chapter)
