Batman stood in the smoke-filled hallway, listening. No more footsteps. No more voices. The third floor was secure.
"Sweep complete," NEXUS reported. "All hostile forces on third floor neutralized. Scanning for additional threats."
Batman returned to Mannheim's office. The crime boss was still zip-tied on the floor, terror written across his face.
"Please," Mannheim gasped. "I have money. Lots of money. Whatever you want, I can pay."
"I don't want your money." Batman pulled him to his feet. "I want you to send a message. Tell every criminal in Gotham that there's something new in the shadows. Something they can't buy off or intimidate. Tell them I'm coming for all of them."
He dragged Mannheim to the window and opened it. Three stories up. The drop would be fatal.
Mannheim's eyes went wide. "No, no, please! I'll do whatever you want!"
"I know you will." Batman attached a grappling line to Mannheim's zip-ties and clipped the other end to a structural support. Then he threw Mannheim out the window.
Mannheim's scream cut through the night as he fell. The grappling line caught after fifteen feet of freefall, leaving him dangling outside the building.
Batman turned to Mannheim's desk and gathered the evidence he needed. Ledgers. Computer files. Documentation of every illegal operation. He stuffed it all into a bag.
Then he pulled out a burner phone and dialed the GCPD tip line.
"There's been an incident at the warehouse on Seventh and Kane in the East End," he said, voice still modulated by the cowl. "Multiple suspects unconscious. Evidence of drug trafficking and money laundering on site. Suggest immediate response."
He hung up before they could trace the call.
"GCPD dispatch is sending units," NEXUS confirmed. "Estimated arrival time: eight minutes. Recommend immediate extraction."
Batman took one last look at the office. Eleven guards down. Mannheim caught. Evidence secured. Mission accomplished.
He moved to the window and looked down at Mannheim, still dangling and screaming for help.
"Welcome to the new Gotham," Batman said quietly.
Then he grappled to the roof and disappeared into the night.
---
Batman made it back to the Batmobile with three minutes to spare before GCPD arrived at the warehouse. He drove through the shadows, adrenaline still coursing through his system.
It had worked. The plan, the equipment, the training. All of it had come together exactly as designed. Seventeen hostile forces neutralized. Zero casualties. Target secured. Evidence recovered.
Batman's first operation was a complete success.
"Vital signs elevated but within acceptable parameters," NEXUS reported. "No injuries detected. Equipment performed optimally. Operation success rate: 100%."
Bruce felt something he hadn't expected. Not satisfaction or pride.
Relief.
He'd proven he could do this. He'd taken nine years of preparation and put it to the test against real criminals with real weapons. And he'd won.
The Batmobile slipped back through Gotham's streets toward Wayne Manor. Behind him, police sirens wailed as GCPD units converged on the warehouse.
By tomorrow, the story would be all over the news. Bruno Mannheim arrested. His entire organization dismantled in one night. Evidence that would put him away for decades.
But the real story was something else. Something that would spread through Gotham's underworld faster than any news broadcast.
There was something new in the darkness. Something that criminals couldn't fight, couldn't bribe, couldn't escape.
Batman.
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