"I thought you were a nocturnal animal," Black Cat said lazily, "someone who never shows up during the day."
Inside an abandoned low-rise building in Hell's Kitchen, sunlight filtered through broken windows and dust-filled air. Black Cat sat casually on a chair, one leg crossed over the other, facing a fully armed Batman.
"And wearing that in broad daylight?" she added, tilting her head. "Planning to fight someone?"
She smirked.
"Let's be clear. I'm not going to bed with you."
Batman's mouth twitched slightly beneath the mask.
He admitted—at least internally—that Black Cat was dangerously attractive. Her white crop top revealed sharply defined abs like sculpted marble. The curve of her waist flowed naturally into her hips, forming a soft yet powerful arc. Her long legs crossed with casual confidence, smooth and toned, her pale feet dangling freely in the air.
Open-toed white high heels.
She wasn't just beautiful—she was deliberately distracting.
"I'm here to talk about the lawyer," Batman said calmly.
Black Cat sighed and leaned back.
"Don't remind me," she groaned. "Everything was going smoothly—until the lawyers heard my target was Kingpin."
She snorted.
"They ran faster than street rats when the lights come on."
"A bunch of cowards."
"We need someone bold," Batman said. "And competent."
"Obviously," Black Cat rolled her eyes. "You sound very invested."
"I am," Batman replied. "I also need a lawyer."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I need to help a scientist sue Osborn Group."
Black Cat laughed softly.
"Looks like Osborn really made an enemy this time," she said. "Now I'm curious—who exactly is under that suit?"
She stepped toward the window and leaned out, watching pedestrians rush along the street below.
"Could you be that new 'Vampire' urban legend everyone's talking about?"
She smiled faintly.
"The longer we delay, the sooner Kingpin finishes laundering his money. Once he turns himself into a 'legitimate entrepreneur,' taking him down will be ten times harder."
She waited.
No response.
Black Cat turned around.
Batman was gone.
"…Seriously?" she muttered. "Am I suddenly unattractive, or does that guy just hate staying around?"
Bored, she shrugged, opened the window, and jumped out.
---
At the Manhattan branch of the New York Police Department, Chief George Stacy stood rigid as officers escorted Squid Man toward a heavily modified transport vehicle.
The transport compartment crackled with high-voltage current, its reinforced walls specifically designed to prevent escape.
Thanks to the information provided by You-Know-Who and Ogg's recovered victim list, the case had progressed rapidly.
After today's hearing, Squid Man's fate was sealed.
Death penalty.
George Stacy slammed the compartment door shut.
"Move out."
The convoy rolled forward, sirens muted but presence overwhelming.
"Dad," a clear voice asked beside him, "is that squid guy really that dangerous?"
George turned.
Standing there was Gwen Stacy.
She wore a pale yellow top and a plaid skirt, her long light-blonde hair catching the breeze. A few loose strands brushed her forehead, making her look almost unreal—like a figure stepped out of a painting.
"Gwen," George frowned slightly. "I told you not to come here when I'm working."
"I was curious," she said, pouting. "And I wanted to know if you're coming home for dinner tonight."
George sighed, then chuckled.
"Yes," he said. "Because of You-Know-Who dumping criminals at our doorstep, I haven't been able to leave early in days."
Gwen's eyes lit up.
"Really?" she smiled. "Then… who is You-Know-Who?"
Seeing her curiosity, George briefly recounted the recent events.
After listening, Gwen thought for a moment.
"He sounds kind of like Spider-Man," she said. "A good person helping the city."
George's expression hardened instantly.
"No," he said firmly. "He is not a good citizen. Neither is Spider-Man."
Gwen stiffened.
"Spider-Man thinks wearing a mask gives him the right to enforce the law," George continued. "When we arrive at crime scenes, we find criminals hanging from webs, glass shattered everywhere."
"The intentions are good—but he works alone. The headlines are always about him."
He exhaled slowly.
"Police morale drops. Officers feel useless. Like New York doesn't need us anymore."
"If this continues, the city will become a paradise for crime."
Gwen swallowed.
"Then… what about You-Know-Who?"
"He's worse," George said flatly. "A terrorist who uses crime-fighting as an excuse to vent violence."
At that moment, Ogg walked by and quickly asked,
"Should we issue a warrant for You-Know-Who?"
George shook his head.
"We don't know his identity. His face. Or even if he's human."
He paused.
"Some criminals claim he's a vampire."
Ogg grimaced.
"I know that's unlikely," George continued, "but issuing a warrant now would only cause public panic."
He watched the transport convoy disappear down the street.
Then he turned back into the station.
---
High above, on the roof of a nearby building, Batman stood silently.
He watched the convoy until Squid Man was delivered safely into the courthouse.
Only then did he disappear.
---
Back at the abandoned shipyard, Batman didn't remove his Batsuit.
He immediately activated his computer.
Black Cat's lawyer search had stalled, and time was running out.
As she had said—once Kingpin's money was fully laundered, opportunities would vanish.
Batman needed another angle.
His thoughts turned to Silver Sable.
As the leader of a powerful private security company with deep ties to gray zones and underground networks, she would likely know lawyers brave enough to challenge both Kingpin and Osborn Group.
He didn't know her real name.
So he used what he always did.
Data.
Facial recognition.
Hand-drawn sketches.
The results appeared quickly.
> Silver Sable
Real Name: Silver Sablinova
Background: Daughter of the founder of the government-backed Wild Pack
After her father's death, the Wild Pack transitioned into a private mercenary group
Founder, Chairwoman, and CEO of Silver Sable International
Batman leaned back slightly.
"Found you," he muttered.
New York's urban legends were growing.
And the web connecting them was tightening.
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