Maroney was dead.
He and his two underlings had died together at this lavish banquet.
"Click."
The broken electrical current was restored, and the blazing lights once again illuminated the hall.
People were clamoring to leave, unwilling to remain in such a dangerous place after witnessing the deaths of three living beings. These wealthy and influential individuals didn't want to stay.
"What happened?"
Gino picked up a napkin from the table, wiped the water off his hands, and sat back down in his seat.
The young man's expression was calm, his tone light. He speared a piece of steak on the table with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, and didn't forget to comment, "A little too well-done. Looks like the chef isn't on his game tonight."
Thomas ignored Gino and rushed towards the two burly men who had knives in their necks.
As a doctor, Thomas adhered to the principle of "saving the dying and healing the wounded."
But the corpses' dilated pupils discouraged Thomas from taking any further action.
"Oh my God, Bruce, we need to get out of here!"
The two "vases" Bruce had brought along were in a panic, standing up and urging Bruce to leave while carrying their small bags.
Everything was chaotic. When faced with danger, people's first reaction was to escape, to get away from the danger.
But Bruce shook his head, signaling the two women to leave first, while his gaze shifted to Gino.
The handsome young man was still wearing that black suit, his tie perfectly straight.
Gino glanced at the distant corpse, a look of surprise on his face: "Someone's dead?"
His acting was flawless, and Bruce couldn't immediately determine if Gino was connected to the killer.
Bruce nodded. "Yes, it was the mob boss, Maroney."
"Then this assassin is a good person, doing some good for the people."
Gino was enjoying the misfortune. "I heard he was a mob boss, running a lot of shady businesses."
"Mr. Bruce, do you think he deserved to die?"
Gino put down his fork, resting his chin on his hands: "If every criminal died by assassination, could Gotham return to 'normal'?"
If all the bad guys were killed, could Gotham return to normal?
Bruce even subconsciously recalled the scene in Gotham after the criminal disappeared.
But, the wailing sirens interrupted Bruce's thoughts.
Compared to the slow response in the slums, Gotham police showed their professionalism when dealing with the powerful.
James Gordon, twenty-nine years old this year, retired from the U.S. Navy SEALs and joined the Gotham City Police Department a week ago.
Gordon had a wife who, while not beautiful, was virtuous, and she was already pregnant, which meant Gordon needed a stable job to support his family.
Society is never warm, only cold and cruel.
If Gordon were willing to become a corrupt cop, his days might be much better, but…
Gordon was an anomaly in the Gotham police force.
For example, he never accepted bribes and didn't participate in the "fun" gatherings his colleagues held.
Such an unsociable guy naturally faced exclusion from his colleagues and superiors.
So, when faced with this extremely bizarre murder case, his superior sent the unlucky James Gordon to handle it.
"Rait, Fran, you take a team and secure the scene."
"Frank, come with me to take some statements."
James Gordon rubbed his temples.
He hadn't been happy lately.
The exclusion and suppression from his superiors and colleagues left him physically and mentally exhausted.
Gordon walked into the hall, which was already sparsely populated.
His gaze swept over the three bodies; it was clear that this was a homicide.
"Whew."
Gordon inhaled deeply. Soon, the officer in charge of taking statements reported the situation to Gordon.
Listening to the officer's report, Gordon frowned.
A suddenly-appearing assassin had killed Maroney and then vanished.
This record sounded as absurd as some science fiction web novels.
"Forget it, let's take the bodies back to the morgue first."
Midnight.
Gordon watched as the coroner removed a small knife from the dead man's shattered throat after the autopsy.
The silver throwing knife had a carved owl on its blade.
He was deep in thought when a strange sound of wind came from behind him.
"Whoosh."
It was as if some fabric was swaying in the wind.
"Who's there?"
Gordon tensed up and spun around.
In the dim yellow light, a dark figure stood silently in the corner, like a giant bat.
The dark, deep black cloak swayed without wind, paired with black armor, making the figure appear mysterious and strange.
Beneath the pointed-ear mask was a pair of cold eyes.
Gordon quietly reached for the gun at his waist. If the other party made any sudden moves, he would not hesitate to shoot immediately.
What kind of person would wear an outfit resembling a costume and sneak into a forensics workplace?
The answer: a lunatic.
"Don't be nervous."
Gordon heard the black-clad weirdo speak slowly.
"I'm here to help you."
Batman ignored Gordon's small movements and walked to the corpse, picking up the murder weapon from the tray.
His gaze lingered on the owl pattern on the throwing knife.
Recalling some rumors about the Wayne Family, Batman had some guesses in mind.
He dropped the knife and turned to leave.
"Wait! You can't just appear and then leave without a word!"
Gordon drew his handgun, and after a moment of restraint, he shouted, "I now suspect you have connections with the murderer! Put your hands on your head and get down, you are under investigation!"
Batman's steps didn't falter. Under Gordon's gaze, he pushed open the window and then leaped out.
"God!"
Gordon covered his mouth. He was on the fifth floor, after all.
He rushed towards the window, intending to save the person.
But when Gordon ran to the window and looked down into the night, he saw the man in the costume raise his arms and spread his black cape.
In the night, the whistling wind blew through the black cape, making a piercing sound.
The man looked like a bat with outstretched arms, gliding across the night sky of the city, gradually disappearing from Gordon's sight.
"Oh, God."
Gordon rubbed his eyes. He thought he was absolutely crazy!
Gotham's sewers.
The murky sewage flowed through the underground tunnels, filled with garbage and the corpses of some creatures, which looked disgusting.
Pulling the view back, it passed through a thick wall.
In a dimly lit, circular conference room, a group of men and women, all wearing white masks and dressed in various expensive gowns, were gathered around a table.
The scents of various expensive perfumes intermingled and permeated the air.
"Gentlemen," the leader said, rapping on the table. "Tonight's Maroney case involves someone impersonating us."
The flickering of white candles cast dancing shadows.
As his words fell, someone immediately chimed in, "Impersonating the Court of Owls, he will pay the price."
A group of people hid their true faces beneath their masks, engaging in heated discussions with each other.
"He'll expose our existence."
"He will pay a cruel price."
They whispered: "Activate our network."
"Investigate his background."
"Then,"
"Send the Talon!"
------------------------
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