Soon afterward, at the Bat Gang's bar.
The gang members gathered around the televisions, watching Axel speak eloquently while casually interacting with Silver Winged Star.
"Damn, the boss's boss is incredible!"
"Yeah, Wraith is awesome, that's a freaking dragon!"
"There's no way that thing was developed through normal research. What kind of dinosaur project creates a jet?"
"Buddy, I've played Monster Hunter. That's definitely an Elder Dragon."
"Maybe Wraith Boss really is someone from another universe invading ours."
"Haha, who cares? Whoever he is, Wraith Boss pays us, so we'll work for him!"
"My salary went up by thirty percent, and my bonus doubled. My wife hasn't raised her voice at me in weeks. I love Wraith Boss."
"Same here. Since everyone's wives are so similar, should we swap sometime?"
"Swap your ass."
"Tch, no sense of adventure."
As the drunken gang members chatted excitedly, one of them suddenly received a call from Bruce.
The moment he recognized the number, he grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it against the wall.
Bang!
Crash!
The entire bar immediately quieted down.
"Everyone shut up! Boss Bat is calling!"
"What? The boss finally called?"
"Tch, what's the job this time? Which street are we cleaning?"
"We're a gang, we should be collecting protection money."
"Smashing, grabbing, looting, burning!"
"That's what those other gangs do. We don't even have the conditions for that anymore."
"Shut up, I'm answering the phone, idiots!"
Everyone reluctantly fell silent.
Despite their complaints, they all respected Boss Bat.
First, Bruce was an exceptional fighter whose status within the Dead Souls Gang rivaled, or even surpassed, Oswald, the gang's chief strategist.
Second, he was undeniably powerful.
Victor openly admitted he couldn't beat Bruce.
Even Deadshot, the gang's newest star who spent most of his days driving Boss's luxury cars around Gotham with his daughter, admitted Bruce could at least fight him to a draw.
Those facts alone earned him everyone's respect.
On top of that, during the Battle of Washington, Boss Bat had been flying around in a mech.
Most importantly, there was his identity.
Everyone in America complained about the wealthy, yet everyone ultimately bowed to them.
By now, everyone knew Boss Bat was actually Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises.
He was the rebellious heir of the Wayne family. Instead of spending his life manipulating the stock market or chasing women, he had come to the streets and built his reputation with his fists.
That version of Bruce Wayne deeply resonated with the gang members.
So what if they had to clean streets?
As long as Boss Bat paid them well and increased their reputation throughout Gotham, they were happy.
Besides, nobody could deny one thing.
They earned more money than ever before.
The man answering the phone listened quietly.
A moment later, he hung up.
Everyone immediately gathered around him.
"So, where are we cleaning this time? We've almost finished clearing the Sky Rail ruins."
"Yeah, we've already cleaned our territory and half of South Gotham. What's next, Arkham?"
The man took a deep breath and slammed his fist onto the bar.
"Boys, Boss Bat has new orders! This isn't street cleaning anymore. This is a real gang bounty!"
He quickly held up his phone.
"Boss Bat already sent the target's photo. I'm forwarding it now."
"Damn it, how long has it been since we had a real assignment?"
"Look carefully at this face and search the entire city, especially around Arkham."
"This is the first black ops mission Boss Bat has ever given us. We have to execute it perfectly!"
He raised his beer triumphantly.
The bar erupted.
"I love Boss Bat!"
"Finally, real work!"
"I'm digging up Arkham from top to bottom!"
"Kill that bastard! Nobody gets to call the Bat Gang Gotham's janitors anymore!"
"Move!"
"Let's go!"
Within seconds, everyone stormed out.
At the same time, gangs all over Gotham received Bruce's orders.
Hundreds of thousands of gang members mobilized simultaneously.
Brothels, cannabis farms, arms dealers, cleaners, assassins, and every underground operation across Gotham quickly learned Mad Hatter's identity.
Nearly a third of Gotham's population knew who he was within a remarkably short period.
Meanwhile, Bruce's Batmobile arrogantly sped past a police car before pulling up in front of Arkham Asylum.
Bruce, wearing his classic Batman suit, immediately rushed inside.
In the police car he had just overtaken, Gordon stared blankly at the disappearing Batmobile.
He swallowed hard before shaking his head.
As expected of the Wayne family.
Even being both a vigilante and a gang leader somehow looked luxurious.
That car was completely absurd.
And somehow, the gang had arrived before the police.
What did Bruce, the Dead Souls Gang, and people like Axel think they were?
Did they truly believe they were Gotham's guardians?
Then Gordon watched Batman charging into Arkham and effortlessly subduing inmates one after another.
His shoulders slumped.
Guardians?
Maybe they really were.
If not guardians, then something close to gods.
The Battle of Washington had already proven that.
With Gotham's old political elite mostly eliminated by Axel, Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp had effectively taken over Gotham City Hall.
One came from Gotham.
The other aggressively expanded from Metropolis.
Together, they possessed money, influence, and connections reaching all the way to Washington.
Even though police officers no longer accepted dirty money from gangs, their salaries had still increased.
Nowadays, nearly every officer cooperated with the Dead Souls Gang and the two corporate giants.
As police commissioner, Gordon sometimes felt like a figurehead.
He sighed.
"Move it!"
"Batman is already inside."
"We're slower than the gang. Hurry up!"
He grabbed his pistol and exited the vehicle.
SWAT teams followed close behind.
As police officers surrounded Arkham Asylum, Bruce continued fighting inside.
After knocking out several patients, he examined them and inhaled sharply.
"What terrifying hypnosis."
"Even unconscious, they can't break free."
He looked toward the dozens of doctors and patients still charging at him.
Their expressions were empty, their movements resembling zombies.
Guilt filled his heart.
This is my fault.
If I had discovered Mad Hatter earlier...
If I'd gathered evidence faster...
Or if I'd acted immediately instead of waiting...
Some of these people would still be alive.
Driven by guilt, Bruce charged forward like a tiger entering a flock of sheep.
By the time nearly twenty unconscious victims lay behind him, Gordon and the SWAT team finally arrived.
Bruce spoke immediately.
"The mastermind is Mad Hatter. You should already have his records from his previous stay here."
"A few days ago, Hugo Strange..."
Bruce paused in frustration.
"In short, Mad Hatter used hypnosis to take control of everyone in the facility."
"The current perpetrator is likely another victim."
"Secure everyone on the ground."
"I'm going after the source."
Without waiting for a reply, Bruce sprinted deeper into Arkham.
At this point, Arkham was still an asylum rather than the future prison for supervillains.
Despite the chaos, the situation remained manageable.
None of the controlled patients carried firearms.
The biggest threat was a crazed Harley Quinzel.
Bruce headed directly toward her location.
The moment he opened another corridor door, he was greeted by a scene straight from hell.
There were only around thirty patients in the hallway.
More than half were already dead.
Harley stood among the corpses, pulling an iron pipe from someone's skull.
She looked up at Bruce and smiled innocently.
"Oh wow, a new toy."
"There are so many moving toys today."
"What kind of doll are you? Everything's black. Are you a little black cat?"
Bruce immediately understood.
Harley's perception of reality had completely collapsed.
Mad Hatter had clearly been influencing her for quite some time.
Damn it.
He actually believed Axel's nonsense.
Didn't Axel say Harley could settle Arkham?
Was this what he meant?
If she killed everyone in Arkham, Gotham wouldn't have any mentally ill patients left.
That was certainly one way to solve the problem.
And somehow, it was exactly Axel's style.
How did I ever believe him?
He's a complete bastard.
Bruce carefully addressed her.
"Harley Quinzel, I'm not a doll."
"I'm Batman."
Harley giggled.
"Oh, little Bat cutie."
"I don't like bats, but you're furry too."
"How are you going to kill me?"
"With your fangs?"
"No, no, that won't work."
"I'm Alice, and this is Wonderland."
"Alice can't have scars."
"Especially bite marks."
Two nearby patients suddenly lunged toward her.
Harley swung her iron pipe.
Before it could connect, Bruce pulled two devices from his belt and threw them.
They instantly unfolded into nano tasers.
Electricity surged through Harley and every patient in the corridor.
The current traveled through the blood on the floor, but Bruce's suit was already insulated.
Batman always prepared for unexpected situations.
Against a straightforward opponent like Harley, without elaborate schemes or heavy weapons, victory was easy.
Especially now.
After Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp integrated portions of their military and technological divisions, Bruce's equipment had advanced dramatically.
Even without a powered suit, dealing with ordinary opponents was effortless.
Once everyone collapsed, Bruce rushed over and restrained Harley with high strength cuffs.
At that moment, Gordon arrived with SWAT.
Bruce spoke quickly.
"I've confirmed Harley Quinzel is another victim under Mad Hatter's control."
"Right now, her primary crime is negligence."
"From what we know, these killings may not have been intentional."
"I'll leave her to you."
"I'm continuing the search for survivors."
"The Arkham disaster has already happened."
"Stopping Mad Hatter is now the top priority."
He grabbed several more bat-shaped nano tasers and disappeared into another corridor.
Although Harley had created horrifying carnage, less than a hundred people had died.
That meant many survivors still remained inside the asylum.
As Bruce and the police worked to secure Arkham Asylum, elsewhere in the Arkham district, near an abandoned section of the Sky Rail, Mad Hatter had already changed out of his patient uniform.
He now wore an elegant gentleman's suit.
Inside his breast pocket rested his treasured pocket watch, hanging from a polished chain.