"Chief George, we've confirmed that the information Batman provided about Norman Osborn being the murderer in the third basement level incident and the Spencer family killings is accurate."
"Right now, all the holding cells at the Manhattan Police Department are full. Should we transfer him straight to prison?"
In the director's office at the Manhattan Police Department, Assistant Ogg suggested.
Chief George Stacy shot his assistant a glare.
"What are you talking about? Have you forgotten what I said last night? Contact a psychiatrist to evaluate his mental state!"
Ogg took a deep breath. He'd been up all night with barely any sleep. It was Saturday, and he still had to work, on top of organizing a pile of criminal evidence from the previous evening. He was fuming inside but managed to keep his tone in check.
"But Director, we really don't have any empty holding cells left. Dr. Otto is about to be sent to the hospital to have his tentacles removed, which will free up one spot, but Norman is still taking up another, and we don't dare put him in with the other criminals."
"If prison isn't an option, I suggest sending him to a mental hospital. A renowned scientist and tycoon suddenly turning into a mass murderer—I strongly suspect he has mental issues."
Provoked by Assistant Ogg's slightly confrontational tone, George Stacy slammed his hand on the table instead.
"That's a good idea! I remember there's a mental hospital in the northern suburbs of New York that's managed by the New York Police Department. Look up their number and send all the suspects with potential mental abnormalities over there!"
"The mental hospital in the northern suburbs... you mean the Ravencroft Institute? Yeah, that's a fitting place for mentally unstable criminals." Assistant Ogg nodded. "For now, we'll have the criminals squeeze in together, and I'll arrange for psychiatrists to evaluate them one by one."
"I suspect half the guys we arrested last night will end up there. Even now, some of them are still convinced they ran into a ghost who calls himself Batman."
Under normal circumstances, a typical police station might not even hold a single mentally ill criminal in a year, so Chief George Stacy and Assistant Ogg hadn't even thought of this at first.
The Ravencroft Institute was a mental hospital in name, but it functioned more like a prison.
It had guards, psychiatrists, high walls, and armed sentries on duty. It was an ideal spot to detain someone like Norman Osborn, who had suddenly turned into a killer but showed no signs of murderous intent or mindset after being locked up at the station—only profound regret.
Even Dr. Otto could have been sent there if S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't issued the paperwork and swiftly handled the legal proceedings.
"By the way, Director, what about Kingpin? In theory, he could be held at the Ravencroft Institute too." Assistant Ogg was about to leave the director's office when he suddenly paused and turned back to ask.
"In theory, no. His mental state is perfectly stable," Chief George replied.
"And in practice?"
"In practice, no either. I'm not implying anything."
Chief George Stacy muttered a curse under his breath, then slapped his forehead as he remembered something. He called back to Ogg, who was already heading out.
"Oh, and notify Norman and Kingpin's families or lawyers. We have to push forward with the necessary legal procedures. I don't want to get sued by gang bosses and business elites one after another."
Assistant Ogg seemed to have anticipated this.
"I know, Director. It's already taken care of. Kingpin has his own lawyer. As for Norman Osborn... you might not have heard, but yesterday, the Osborn Group held another board meeting and successfully voted to oust Norman from the board."
"Those businessmen are all about self-interest. Once the news of Norman's arrest got out, the board stirred up public opinion, claiming Norman was mentally unstable and stripping him of all his authority—which, naturally, includes refusing to provide him with legal representation."
"So I had no choice but to contact his only immediate family member, Harry Osborn."
Chief George nodded, and it wasn't until Ogg left that he couldn't help murmuring to himself.
"Squid Man, Doctor Octopus, Green Goblin Norman, Kingpin, Hammerhead... In just a few days, Batman has handed me all these gifted and extraordinary individuals?"
"New York really needs a prison built specifically for these exceptional super-criminals."
...
"Peter, the police station contacted me. They're arranging for a psychiatrist to evaluate my father, and he might be transferred to the Ravencroft Institute."
In the living room of Osborn Manor, Harry Osborn said to Batman with a somber expression.
After Green Goblin Norman Osborn was driven off by Batman on the night he bombed the police station, Batman hadn't returned to dismantle the surveillance network he'd installed in Osborn Manor.
On one hand, it was to monitor whether Green Goblin Norman Osborn might sneak back home; on the other, it was to keep an eye on Harry Osborn.
Now that Norman Osborn had been delivered to the police station, Batman was visiting Harry not just as a friend but also to remove the surveillance network.
However, seeing Harry Osborn's state, Batman decided to leave the network in place a little longer.
Harry had lost a noticeable amount of weight compared to a few days ago, and his lack of exercise combined with sleepless nights had left his face deathly pale. His hair was a tangled mess, and he was still wearing the same clothes from their last meeting.
"Peter, can you imagine how devastated I was when I learned about the serial human experiments and murders at the Osborn Group, and that even the Spencer family was wiped out?"
"One morning, I woke up and saw my father collapsed in the hallway. I thought he was tormented by all this, and I tried to comfort him."
"But now the truth is out—he's the one behind it all."
Harry Osborn's fingers were white from gripping them so tightly, and his whole body trembled slightly.
"But he's also my only family left."
"Peter, I really don't know what to do."
"Why do I have to bear all of this? It's not fair!"
"You're not the only one bearing everything," Batman replied silently in his mind.
On that Christmas when he was eight years old, Bruce Wayne had asked himself the same question—why did he have to endure the agony of losing both parents?
"Harry, listen to me. Do you remember Dr. Otto? The one you introduced me to—the infamous Doctor Octopus from the news a while back."
Batman sat down next to Harry Osborn, keeping a respectful distance rather than hugging him to ease his pain, as that wasn't something he was skilled at.
"After a mental evaluation and legal proceedings, Dr. Otto was deemed to have been controlled by his tentacles, losing his ability to act on his own will. Your father, Mr. Norman's, situation is similar."
"What we need to do now isn't to fall apart; we need to figure out what happened to Mr. Norman."
Batman's words seemed to spark a glimmer of hope in Harry Osborn. He stared with bloodshot eyes, swollen from lack of sleep and hidden tears, and stumbled toward Batman, clutching his shoulder.
"Peter, you must have a way, right? You're always so smart—tell me what to do, quick!"
"Wait for his mental evaluation report, Harry," Batman guided him in a relatively calm tone, while subtly holding his breath and releasing a bit of sedative gas from a specially designed Bat-dart, just as he had during their last encounter.
Meanwhile, in a holding cell at the Manhattan Police Department.
This cell featured an electrified iron cage, and Norman Osborn sat in the center, his face etched with remorse as he answered questions from the psychiatrist conducting his mental evaluation through the bars.
It wasn't until the psychiatrist left and the police informed Norman that he would soon be transferred to the Ravencroft Institute that the remorse faded from his face, and the corners of his mouth slowly curled upward.
"Great power, shattered will—who am I?"
"Oh, I am the esteemed Lord Green Goblin!"
The voice that didn't belong to him echoed in Norman Osborn's ears once more.
He didn't make any sudden moves but quietly flexed the muscles in his body. The bones, muscle tissue, and organs that had been shattered when Batman had swung him around and slammed him into the ground were rapidly healing.
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