Night in Gotham remained as it had always been—a breeding ground for countless evils in places where light couldn't penetrate.
A metallic butterfly moved silently through the darkness, occasionally catching the glow of distant lights and reflecting a subtle sheen.
Not far from the butterfly's flight path, two heavily armed teenagers crept through the shadows, clearly evading detection.
"Teacher's Razorfly should buy us some time. We need to move quickly," Bruce whispered.
He carried a rapier and clutched a kunai in his hand, ready to strike at any moment.
Beside him, Selina pressed herself against the wall, gripping a dagger tightly. Her eyes remained fixed on the area where the Razorfly had disappeared.
Since Marcus's departure, the pair had experienced many challenges together and faced numerous dangers.
However, through their partnership, they'd overcome all malicious threats directed against them.
"Quiet," Selina breathed. "I don't know where those strange attackers might appear. I'll scout ahead."
She pressed her fingers into a small gap in the wall and scaled it effortlessly, making not a sound as she ascended to the roof. Her movements were indeed cat-like—light and remarkably agile.
Upon reaching the rooftop, Selina maintained her vigilance. She crawled across the surface, using the goggles hanging around her neck to survey their surroundings.
Everything remained deathly silent. Though there appeared to be no one nearby, Selina knew well that the mysterious figures who had recently appeared in Gotham were likely hidden in the darkness, awaiting their emergence.
The Razorfly came into Selina's field of vision, fluttering its wings like a natural butterfly as it patrolled the area.
Swoosh!
A black shadow suddenly lunged at the mechanical butterfly.
Selina's exceptional eyesight allowed her to barely discern the attacker's form through the darkness.
It was a powerfully built figure with a ferocious, beast-like face.
"They're definitely ambushing us here," she thought.
Such situations had become grimly familiar. The bestial assailant belonged to a group of killers that had recently emerged in Gotham, specifically targeting the Wayne family.
All these attackers shared identical expressions—hideously distorted and inhuman.
Their primary target was Bruce, the sole heir to the Wayne fortune. These assassins had previously assaulted Wayne Manor itself.
Had Bruce not mastered the combat techniques taught by Marcus, maintained his rigorous daily training, and received assistance from the Razorfly, he might well have perished in that attack.
"Bruce, come up!" Selina called softly to her companion hiding below.
She felt no concern for the Razorfly—she knew it could handle itself far better than either of them could.
Though small, the mechanical butterfly possessed combat abilities significantly superior to their own.
Just as Bruce reached the rooftop, the assassin who had charged at the Razorfly let out a pained growl as his arms fell limply to his sides.
Dark crimson blood stained the Razorfly's metal surface. The device suddenly accelerated, drawing a silver arc through the air as it passed directly over the staggering assassin's head.
In that instant, the attacker collapsed to the ground without another sound.
The Razorfly, seemingly stimulated by the blood, began flying at remarkable speed, systematically eliminating the other assassins hidden throughout the area.
Taking advantage of the Razorfly's lethal distraction, Selina and Bruce quickly traversed the rooftop and fled into the distance.
Soon this location would draw the attention of other killers. They needed to escape before more attackers arrived.
The pair raced across the rooftops, their footfalls imperceptible—quieter even than the faint siren wailing at the distant pier.
After running for some time, they stopped on a rooftop covered with piles of debris.
"We'll hide here for now. They won't search this place immediately," Selina said.
She dove into the heap of rubble, preparing to rest and recover her strength.
Bruce didn't hesitate to follow her example, allowing the debris to completely conceal his body.
He had adapted to this lifestyle. During previous attacks, he had relied on Selina's survival instincts to evade the assassins.
Finding a relatively comfortable position among the debris, Bruce turned to Selina lying beside him.
"When do you think Teacher will return?" he asked.
"How would I know?" Selina replied flatly.
Like Bruce, she had no idea where Marcus had gone.
Though she had never formally addressed Marcus as "Teacher," in her heart, he remained irreplaceable.
Without his training, she would never have mastered her current abilities, let alone survived the repeated attacks.
"If Teacher were here, he'd handle these people easily, wouldn't he?" Bruce sighed.
They had managed to survive numerous dangerous situations with just the single Razorfly Marcus had left behind. The mechanical butterfly had become a nightmare for their enemies.
And Marcus possessed countless such Razorflies. If he were present, Gotham would certainly not suffer the constant violence they now endured.
"If he were here, we wouldn't be living like this," Selina agreed. "Those attackers wouldn't even make it past Wayne Manor's gates."
Her voice softened. "I'm going to rest for a bit. Keep watch."
"Alright, you sleep," Bruce nodded.
Though exhausted himself, he understood they couldn't both relax simultaneously. They needed to take turns resting to maintain their vigilance.
After Selina fell asleep, Bruce monitored their surroundings through gaps in the debris, waiting for the Razorfly's return.
Soon, the metal butterfly appeared beside him. Its metallic surface gleamed in the dim light, all blood stains now vanished.
"You're back. Send a message to Alfred for me."
Bruce tore a strip of cloth from the surrounding debris, wrote a brief message on it, rolled it up, and offered it to the Razorfly.
"Go to Alfred and deliver this."
The Razorfly extended a thin filament to secure the rolled cloth, then flew toward Wayne Manor.
At Wayne Manor, Alfred stood by the window, his arm in a plaster cast, gazing outward.
Since the attack, he had lost contact with Bruce and had no idea of the young master's current situation.
"Master Bruce, you must come to no harm," he whispered anxiously.
Alfred remained perplexed by recent events. Ever since the Waynes' murder, it seemed Bruce lived under some curse, constantly surrounded by violence and assassination attempts.
This pattern had intensified dramatically after Marcus's departure. They had endured four separate attacks by killers.
The assassins grew increasingly dangerous with each attempt. At first, Alfred could hold his own against them, but now he proved no match—his broken arm stood as evidence.
If not for the Razorfly left by Marcus, Bruce would likely have perished several times over.
"Mr. Marcus, I don't know where you've gone," Alfred sighed, "but if you don't return soon, I fear Master Bruce will be overwhelmed."