Arthur raised an eyebrow, completely confused. His eyes blinked as if trying to solve an equation.
(What the hell is going on? Is she just messing with me?) he thought.
While still trying to make sense of the situation, he felt something unexpected—a sweet, almost floral taste spreading through his mouth. Pamela had discreetly slipped something from her lips into his. This wasn't just a kiss.
She finally pulled away, her eyes half-lidded, scanning every subtle reaction on his face.
Arthur remained still. No stumbling. No coughing. No fainting. Not a single sign of being affected.
Pamela then smiled—almost in relief.
"So, you're immune to my toxin… You're just like me."
Arthur furrowed his brow.
"What do you mean, like you?"
"My saliva carries plant-based toxins. Any normal human would already be on the floor, drooling or seeing sunflowers talk to them after that kiss," she said, crossing her arms. "But you… you didn't even flinch."
Arthur glanced at his hands, still trying to grasp what it all meant.
"Affinity with plants… resistance to toxins…" he muttered. "…That completely caught me off guard…"
Pamela stepped closer, tilting her head slightly.
"Maybe we're more alike than you think."
Before either of them could continue, Arthur's phone buzzed sharply in his pocket.
"Dinglingling~"
He pulled it out and saw Barbara's name flashing on the screen.
"Hey, Barbara. Are you done already?" he answered, trying to keep his voice steady, as if someone hadn't just tried to poison him—and complimented him for surviving it.
{"Your 'friend' already left. Seems like she forgot to feed her cats or something. Arthur, where are you now? We need to head back,"} said Barbara.
"Got it. I'm on my way. Wait for me, okay?"
She murmured an "okay" on the other end before hanging up.
Arthur put the phone away, let out a tired sigh, and turned back to Pamela.
"I have to go now. I'm sure we'll see each other again. Take care." After giving one last glance to Poison Ivy, Arthur turned to leave.
Pamela didn't respond right away. She simply watched him in silence as he walked toward the door. There was something about his posture—firm, determined, but also gentle and commanding. The aura around Arthur felt alive, almost like an ancient forest… yet also like that of a king.
"What's your name?" she asked, just as his hand reached the doorknob.
Arthur glanced back over his shoulder with a faint smile.
"My name's Arthur. Arthur Morgan. But you can just call me Arthur."
He walked out, leaving Pamela alone with far too many thoughts to process.
---
The afternoon was fading into evening as Arthur walked down the road. He was lost in thought—about Pamela, about toxins. As far as he knew, he had no powers related to plants.
Suddenly, a red sports car—an Aston Martin DBS—pulled up beside him. Arthur stopped quickly. The window rolled down slowly.
A tall, broad-shouldered, handsome man with black hair and striking blue eyes appeared. He exuded both wealth and authority.
It was none other than Bruce Wayne.
If Arthur had just arrived in Gotham, he might not have recognized him right away. But after almost three days in the city, he had seen that face on billboards, in news reports, and on magazine covers.
Bruce Wayne. A genius. A billionaire. A playboy. A philanthropist. But also…
Batman.
"Need a ride? Hop in," Bruce said with a small smile, gesturing to the back seat with his thumb.
Arthur simply nodded. He knew refusing would be pointless. He was sure Bruce wasn't here by chance. Without hesitation, Arthur got into the car—and came face to face with Barbara, already seated comfortably.
"Oh, you got here fast," she said with a smile.
"Yeah. I had to… deal with something interesting first," Arthur murmured, still thinking about Pamela.
Bruce didn't say anything at first. He drove smoothly through Gotham's streets. Silence filled the car for several minutes.
Then Bruce, eyes still on the road, spoke:
"Arthur Morgan… or should I say Garou? Why did you come to Gotham?"
Arthur didn't flinch. He had been expecting that.
"You figured it out pretty quickly."
"Not as quickly as I'd like. You're good at hiding… for someone so new."
"I came to Gotham for a lot of reasons," Arthur replied. "But don't worry. I didn't come to cause trouble. Ideally, I'd like to help."
Bruce raised an eyebrow, still watching the traffic. "Help? You're a college student."
"Sure. But Gotham isn't exactly the friendliest place in the world, and you know that better than anyone."
Barbara glanced at him from the side, her expression mixing surprise and pride. Bruce, however, let out a quiet sigh.
"This isn't something a kid like you should be involved in. You still have a choice."
"I'm sure you had a choice once too," Arthur replied firmly. "And you chose to wear the mask."
Bruce didn't respond immediately. The silence stretched—heavy.
"Bruce, this is our problem too," Barbara said, crossing her arms. "You talk like I don't have the right to choose. I'm an adult. Arthur is too."
"You're the daughter of my best friend, Barbara. It's not that simple."
"Maybe not, but we're not as fragile as you think."
Bruce sighed again—not from fatigue, but from the weight of so much responsibility carried for so long.
"You probably guessed who I was from the start," Bruce said to Arthur.
"From the moment we first met, I felt there was something different about you."
"No doubt, Mr. Batman," Arthur replied with a slight smirk.
Bruce looked at him through the rearview mirror. For a moment, their eyes exchanged more than words.
"I hope you two don't cause trouble," he muttered, then pulled over. "We're here."
Arthur and Barbara got out of the vehicle. Bruce didn't say anything else. He just accelerated and drove off.
As he drove, he pressed a button on his earpiece.
"Alfred, initiate a new contingency plan. Protocol name: Garou."
{"Understood, Master Bruce,"} Alfred replied. After a brief pause, he added,
{"If I may… Mr. Morgan doesn't seem like an enemy."}
Bruce kept his eyes on the road, expression unchanged.
"I know. But it's always better to be prepared, Alfred."
---
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."