In Gotham, Batman would rather halt a nuclear fusion energy project, abandoning billions in sunk costs, than let it fall into Bane's hands.
Back then, he wasn't well-versed in nuclear physics. But through self-study afterward, Batman overturned his earlier stance.
Whether it was magnetic confinement fusion or a Tokamak device, their final forms were massive in scale.
Turning a fusion reactor into a weapon would require converting it into nuclear fission—an outright impossibility.
Even if a criminal managed to steal the device, Batman could simply destroy it. Bombs, gunfire… it would be trivially easy to demolish without triggering a fusion reaction.
Controlled nuclear fusion was an exceptionally safe, clean energy source. So, for the past three days, instead of stopping Dr. Otto Octavius from continuing his research, Batman had incorporated it into his own plans.
"It's 2006. By investing funds to help Dr. Octavius perfect nuclear fusion energy, I estimate I'll complete the capital accumulation within two years to build a device for locating my original world."
"But before that, I need a Plan B."
Batman shifted his gaze from a map of New York to a small computer in the warehouse, one he'd upgraded from a machine Peter Parker had assembled.
He planned to hack into the nation's core classified files to determine if supernatural forces existed in this world. This computer, however, couldn't meet the demands of his plan.
In short, Batman needed money—badly.
The abandoned shipyard sat in Manhattan's Lower East Side, not sprawling but complex in terrain due to scattered industrial equipment and derelict ships.
No beggar lingered here. The tons of industrial scrap were immovable, offering no shelter, and the rusted relics posed a constant risk of cuts.
For the homeless and penniless, a tetanus infection was a death sentence.
Yet the shipyard wasn't entirely deserted. Certain people came here for their own reasons.
Like Batman. Like two gangs meeting for a deal.
Gaaawk—
As the last fiery streaks of sunset faded, an inky darkness swallowed the shipyard whole.
A crow perched on the towering gantry crane cawed twice before flapping away, oblivious to Batman, clad in black stealth gear, concealing his presence nearby.
Aside from a ship's keel jutting skyward, this was the shipyard's highest vantage point, giving Batman an unobstructed view of the entire site.
"Hm."
Three box trucks pulled up outside the shipyard's perimeter wall. Seven or eight men, dressed plainly—mostly in black—stepped out. Their hands were empty, but the bulges at their waists betrayed hidden weapons.
Compared to their unremarkable appearance, their leader's attire was striking.
She wore a black, deep-V leather outfit, her curves straining against the fabric. Her exposed skin was so pale it seemed to glow, and the white fur collar at her neckline, paired with her snow-white hair, gave her a wild, untamed air.
As she moved with light steps, her pronounced curves trembled faintly.
In Gotham, those dressed so flamboyantly were often exceptional. Batman focused nearly all his attention on her.
"Search the place thoroughly," she said. "I want good news: no one's tampered with anything here."
"Understood, Lady Black Cat," her men replied in low voices, then silently and swiftly scoured every accessible part of the shipyard.
Batman wasn't worried they'd find the warehouse he'd cleared out for his temporary base. He'd camouflaged it so well that no one would notice anything amiss unless they stepped inside.
The traces of his training over the past three days were equally well-hidden. With his expertise, no one would suspect the multi-ton counterweights had ever been lifted.
"Lady Black Cat, everything's clear," said a muscular man in a black suit, his short hair neat. He'd compiled the reports from the others and approached her, head lowered.
Black Cat nodded slightly, clearly pleased with her team's efficiency.
Perched on the gantry crane, Batman took in everything, fully aware of what was about to unfold tonight.
During the day, while gathering intelligence on this world's New York streets, he'd learned two gangs would meet here tonight for an arms deal—right now.
One group was already in place. Where was the other?
The thought had barely crossed Batman's mind when an ice cream truck rolled up to the shipyard's perimeter wall.
Ding-ding-dong~
Despite the truck's cheerful jingle, the half-dozen men who stepped out were anything but friendly. Their faces were hard, menacing.
Compared to Black Cat's disciplined, silent crew, these brutes fit the stereotype of a typical gang.
"Punctual as ever, Mr. Joseph?" Black Cat greeted the leader, a burly man in a baseball cap, with a bright smile.
"Of course. I'm always on time," Joseph replied, tipping his cap slightly to reveal a square face with a forced, insincere grin. "But you, Miss Black Cat, arriving early? That's enough to win any man's heart on a date."
"I wouldn't date a man like you," Black Cat shot back, her lips curling as she tossed a playful wink at Joseph and his men.
Joseph ignored her flirtation, but his men weren't so composed. They swallowed hard, their eyes locked on her.
Black Cat twisted her body lightly, dodging their stares.
"A reminder, Miss Black Cat—this isn't a date," Joseph said, scanning the area. "Where's the merchandise?"
Black Cat waved to her silent crew. They sprang into action, unloading wooden crates from the box trucks.
From their careful movements, the crates were clearly heavy.
"The goods are here," Black Cat said, leaping nimbly onto one of the crates and looking down at Joseph. "Where's the money?"
Joseph muttered something to his men. Moments later, a briefcase was handed to him.
From afar, Batman watched as Joseph opened the case, revealing neatly stacked bills. Black Cat's smile widened, sweet as honey.
"Joseph, you know these goods aren't light," she said. "Even if we wanted to grab the money and run, we couldn't haul all this away."
"Besides, you should trust Kingpin's reputation… So hand over the cash first."
Joseph's grin remained cold, unamused. "No tricks, little Black Cat. Kingpin's name doesn't scare me."
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the briefcase. Black Cat caught it smoothly.
The scent of fresh banknotes deepened her smile as she verified the cash. She looked at Joseph.
"You're true to your word. But I've got one last question."
"How do you plan to haul all this away with just one truck?"
As she spoke, Black Cat drew a pistol and aimed it at Joseph.
"I'm guessing you plan to wipe us out and drive off with our trucks. Am I right?"