Gotham City Police Department (GCPD) Headquarters, top floor.
Director James Gordon and the last team of functional SWAT officers were pinned down behind cover.
At the other end of the corridor, the supervillain "Firefly" Garfield Lynns, in his ridiculous flight gear, brazenly turned the entire floor into a sea of Fire with his massive flamethrower.
"Boom—!"
A searing dragon of Fire licked at the SWAT officers' riot shields, burning them red hot.
The air was thick with a pungent smell of charring, and the temperature was so high that breathing felt like his lungs were on Fire.
"Director! We can't hold on! Ammunition is almost depleted!" a young Police officer shouted in despair.
Gordon gritted his teeth, his grizzled beard stained with ash, his eyes full of weariness and unwillingness.
He glanced at the revolver in his hand, which had only three bullets left, and a deep sense of powerlessness welled up in his heart.
After Batman fell, this City completely lost its last Guardian.
Just as he was about to lead his subordinates on one last suicidal charge, a lively, bizarre shriek, completely out of place in this desperate scene, suddenly came from the ceiling's ventilation duct!
"Ya ha—! Pudding isn't home, so I'm in charge!"
"Bang!"
The ceiling's metal grille was kicked open, and a figure wearing red and blue hot pants and a ripped T-shirt, with twin pigtails, descended from above like an agile gymnast!
She wielded a huge baseball Bat emblazoned with "Good Night" and swung it in a graceful arc through the air, striking the fuel tank on Firefly's back with an incredible precision at an astonishing angle!
"Clang—!!"
A crisp metallic clang rang out.
Harley Quinn performed a graceful backflip, landing steadily on the ground, and then playfully winked at the dumbfounded Gordon and the SWAT team.
"Don't worry, old man with a beard! Your 'takeout' has arrived! Your new bodyguard, that's me, has made a grand entrance! Batman paid a hefty price to ensure you stay alive and kicking!"
Firefly was dazed by the sudden blow.
Just as he was about to turn his flamethrower, he felt his feet tighten.
"Swish-la-la!"
Countless thick, thorny vines, like living creatures, burst from the concrete ground, instantly binding Firefly and his equally stunned minions into solid "green zongzi," hanging them in mid-air.
Poison Ivy Pamela emerged from the shadows at the other end of the corridor, looking extremely displeased. She surveyed the Fire-blackened walls and charred bodies around her, frowning in disgust.
"Let's finish this quickly, Harley, I hate the air here; it's filled with the smell of foolish human burnt protein."
Gordon and his subordinates were all dumbfounded. They watched this crazy duo—a former Joker's moll and an ecological Terrorist—and felt their Worldview repeatedly crushed and utterly shattered within a single minute.
Gordon instinctively pulled out his gun and aimed it at Harley.
Harley, however, was unfazed. She skipped over to Gordon, shoving a printed, perfume-scented contract directly into his face.
"Look closely, old man with a beard! We're 'allies' now! Black and White, no deception!" She pointed to the signature line on the contract, "See, Batman's authorized signature! He said to cooperate with us and clean house! Send all those disobedient bad guys back to Arkham!"
Gordon took the contract with suspicion.
When he saw the astronomical sum of compensation and the perfectly clear steel stamp at the bottom of the page, representing the highest legal validity of Wayne Group, he fell into a long silence.
He remembered what the mysterious, vastly changed Batman had said to him a few days ago through an encrypted line: "Gordon, the way of war has changed.
Accept what you cannot understand, use what you can."
Finally, he let out a long sigh, feeling as if he had aged ten years in an instant.
He helplessly waved his hand at his still-bewildered subordinates behind him.
"Everyone... put away your weapons... cooperate... with their actions."
Thus, under the night sky of Gotham City, the most bizarre and magical scene in history unfolded:
GCPD Police cars formed a defensive line in front, engaging criminals with conventional Firepower; while on their flanks and rear, a crazy Joker's moll, wielding a large Bat, smashed enemies like a tiger entering a flock of sheep; and another plant goddess, with a face that screamed "don't mess with me," simply waved her hand, and the earth would crack open, countless vines and carnivorous plants would sprout, providing the Police with the most "eco-friendly" and "natural" supernatural Firepower support.
Gordon, cigar in mouth, watched this surreal battlefield, feeling not like he was fighting a war, but watching an absurd stage play.