Europe. Switzerland.
A jewelry exhibition hall.
Dark clouds pressed low over the city. Moonlight was thin and weak.
Without the streetlights, the night would have been completely black.
It was late.
Late enough that normal people would already be asleep.
Which also made it the perfect time for thieves.
Inside the exhibition hall, security guards walked their assigned routes, eyes sweeping for anything out of place.
"I'm so sleepy," one guard complained.
"Who isn't?" the other replied.
They slowed down and started chatting.
"Do you think anyone would really come and steal these jewels?"
"Of course not."
"Why?"
"That safe was made by the best safe manufacturer in the world. They guaranteed it with their reputation. The password can't be cracked."
"That good?"
"Of course."
"I don't believe it."
"Damn it, why are you so stubborn? They're the best safe manufacturer in the world!"
Their voices dropped as the argument continued.
At the same time, a graceful figure almost completely merged with the darkness crossed their patrol route. Silent. Nimble. Like a cat.
(Orange cats excluded.)
She slipped into the exhibition hall.
The figure weaved through every search pattern, avoided every line of sight, and finally reached the safe storing the jewelry.
A few precise operations later, the safe opened.
The jewels were gone.
"I don't believe it either," the shadow muttered.
With the jewelry secured, she retraced her steps and left the exhibition hall the same way she had entered.
Unnoticed.
By the time she was gone, the two guards had stopped arguing.
They stood there in silence.
They had been warned.
They just hadn't agreed.
She wasn't kind enough to prove who was right.
"Another perfect operation," she thought.
But something felt off.
"Still feels a little boring. Like something's missing," the little person in her heart said.
"Damn it. How can you think that?" she cursed herself. "Do you want to get caught?"
"But only that man can catch you every time..."
"Damn it, I know!"
"But he's gone. Do you understand? Gone!"
"You're hoping he comes back. Hoping he'll catch you again."
"I am not! Absolutely not! I'll be a dog if I'm lying!"
She sounded confident.
Eventually, the little person fell silent.
She turned into a narrow alley, mood light.
Whether it was because she'd won the argument, or because the theft was complete, she didn't care.
She reached for her clothes.
A cough echoed behind her.
Her body froze.
She was still in a black bodysuit.
In the darkness of the alley, she was nearly invisible.
Nearly.
To the person behind her, she stood out like a spotlight was aimed straight at her. Her curves were unmistakable.
The hood with two small ears didn't help.
The scene instantly crossed into R-rated territory.
"Besides opening the safe," a voice said calmly, "there's another solution. Just drag the whole thing away. Not a bad idea."
"...Morin?"
She turned toward the sound.
"Caught you again," Morin said as he stepped out, smiling, and reached out his hand.
Catwoman smiled back.
She placed her hand in his, leaned in, eyes soft and seductive, voice low and hoarse.
"Then... what are you going to do with me, Officer?"
"A dog," the little person in her heart said smugly.
"I like dogs," Catwoman replied inwardly. Perfectly justified.
...
After two million words of completely unimportant plot.
...
"Equipment upgrade?"
Catwoman lay on Morin's chest and lifted her head. Curious.
"What kind of upgrade?"
"You'll know when the time comes," Morin said.
"What if I want to know now?"
"...You can try convincing me."
He said it in Chinese.
She didn't understand the words.
But she understood the meaning.
"Wait! I was wrong!"
"Too late."
"Wait, you're pressing my hair!"
...
A week later, Morin received a call from Bruce.
"In trouble?" Morin asked.
Most of the items on his list were controlled goods. Even for Wayne Enterprises, gathering everything at once took time.
If the supplies hadn't arrived yet, then Bruce was calling for another reason.
And with the Joker involved, it meant things had crossed a line.
"Yes. That Joker," Bruce said, voice low.
"He's causing serious trouble. I made a mistake."
"You couldn't catch him?"
Morin frowned.
"When you chased him, he tried to force you to kill him, so you hesitated?"
"That's about right."
Bruce wasn't surprised.
He assumed Morin already understood the Joker's methods.
At Morin's request, Bruce explained everything.
Bruce was no longer the same as before.
He could use magic.
Right now, he only had one notable ability. A talent skill.
The Fear Domain.
Once activated, his combat power at least doubled.
The domain forced enemies into fear.
Similar to fear gas, except mental rather than chemical.
Most people couldn't resist it. Their fighting ability dropped sharply.
By the famous canyon relativity principle-
enemy slows down equals I speed up-
it was fair to say Bruce became twice as strong.
But there was a problem.
The Joker wasn't afraid.
A lunatic with a chaotic mind didn't experience fear the same way.
Fear gas meant nothing to him.
So Bruce's Fear Domain failed.
Even so, Bruce wasn't helpless.
Without it, he could still rely on pure combat skill.
The real issue was that the Joker somehow knew his abilities.
When Bruce activated the Fear Domain, the Joker pretended to panic.
Maybe Bruce had grown careless from too many easy victories.
Or maybe the Joker's acting was flawless.
Either way, Bruce didn't notice.
He was ambushed.
Knocked out.
The Joker kidnapped Commissioner Gordon and Judge Rachel.
Blackmail.
He demanded Bruce reveal his identity in public.
"What doesn't make sense," Bruce said slowly, "is that he knocked me out. There was no reason not to check my face."
"If so, he could've exposed me immediately."
"Why force me to reveal it myself?"
"Do you remember what I told you?" Morin asked.
"Don't use common sense to predict him. If you want to understand a lunatic, you have to think like one."
"And that's a bad idea."
"But?" Bruce prompted.
"But if you don't want to become a lunatic," Morin continued, "use another solution."
"Crushing power."
"There are many kinds. His manipulation of human hearts is power. Your background is power. My strength is power."
"Whoever reaches the crushing level wins."
"I'll take the earliest flight back," Morin added.
"What exactly did he say?"
"He said he wanted to play a game."
"If I refuse, Rachel and Gordon die."
"A game..." Morin smiled.
"Do you know the fastest way to end a chess match, Mr. Bruce Wayne?"
"Crush him?"
"No."
"Flip the board."
He paused.
Then an idea struck.
"What is it?" Bruce asked.
"I just thought of something," Morin said.
"Another solution."
"What?"
"Take full control of the game. Turn it into a play you direct."
Bruce didn't understand.
"Make a public statement," Morin said.
"Say Batman has agreed to reveal his identity at a Wayne Enterprises press conference in three days."
"That's exactly what he wants."
"No," Morin replied.
"Until it happens, the result isn't confirmed. He won't touch them."
"I'll arrive quietly and find their location. Ensure their safety."
"But I won't rescue them."
"You get it now?"
"This is your... play," Bruce said.
"Lunatics love games," Morin said.
"I prefer being an artist."
"An artist turns the game into a theater."
"The Joker uses the human heart."
"My theater is called the human heart."
"..." Bruce thought for a moment.
"But aren't you still relying on crushing power?"
"What does your theater have to do with the human heart?"
"..."
Morin broke.
He was just showing off.
And got stabbed by his teammate.
This kid really didn't know how to behave.
"Do you still want to save them or not?"
"Yes! Of course! Your theater is the human heart!"
"Too late. Go die."
"Boss Morin! Please!"
Morin sighed.
"Let me ask you something."
His tone turned serious.
"This is a rare opportunity."
"If you want to completely abandon the Batman identity, I can help."
"...Not now," Bruce said after a pause.
"Gotham isn't saved yet. The Joker proves that."
"Maybe after everything ends."
"Then don't reveal yourself in three days," Morin said.
"That moment will be when the only audience left-the Joker-stands dumbfounded."
"I understand."
"Thank you."
"Why thank me?" Morin said, adopting a boss's tone.
"Do your job well. Rewards won't be lacking."
"I'll leave it to you."
"When have I ever promised something I couldn't do?"
...
After the call ended, Morin looked at Catwoman.
She had been listening the entire time.
Now she was bored, playing with a beach ball.
"I'm starting to think you're more and more like a cat," Morin said.
"Is that so?"
She tossed the ball away, climbed onto him, hands clenched into fists.
"You mean... this?"
"Meow~"
A single word flashed through Morin's mind.
Demon.
As a righteous protagonist, he felt it was his duty to subdue demons.
No shirking allowed.
Thus began a long, arduous battle of three million words.
In the end, the demon was subdued.
The process was complicated.
The positions were many.
The actions were repetitive.
They will not be described in detail.
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