Chapter 232: Night at the Museum
"Put it down." A low voice resonated through the Roman galleries.
The black-clad thieves ignored the warning completely, turning to advance rapidly along a wall displaying medieval knight armor suits.
Following that direction rightward, they'd bypass the magnificent columned hall's exterior, enter the Robert Lehman Collection, then slip away through staff access doors.
Dozens of complete armor sets from the 15th through 17th centuries stood atop elevated platforms, motionless.
Of course they remained motionless. They were simply suits of armor.
But as the black-clad thieves passed these medieval suits during their silent, rapid withdrawal, a series of subtle metallic scraping sounds suddenly emerged.
The thieves' footsteps froze instantly. They glanced toward the sound's origin.
Inside the darkened Roman galleries, everything appeared as vague silhouettes. Nevertheless, when the thieves recognized the sounds emanating from those medieval armor suits, their hearts skipped beats.
The armor faceplates had somehow uniformly rotated toward the thieves' position. Without exception, they "watched."
"Don't look at them! Follow extraction protocols!"
The lead figure growled quietly.
He was a committed materialist. Completely refused believing knight armor could resurrect.
If genuine resurrection were possible, these artifacts would have activated when America had seized them from other nations originally.
The figure glanced at his three teammates, raising one hand to indicate direction before preparing to advance.
Wait. Three teammates?
The figure's heart lurched. Including himself, the team numbered five. When had one disappeared?
Heart hammering, the figure immediately pretended nothing was missing, turning to walk briskly toward the Roman galleries' side door.
"You. Open it."
The team leader gestured. One of his remaining three subordinates immediately advanced, unlocking the secured door and entering.
The leader followed closely. But the instant he prepared stepping through the threshold—
CRASH!
The first subordinate inside was tackled by an enormous black shadow. Wind howled toward the leader's face simultaneously as the just-opened door slammed shut violently, trapping the remaining two thieves outside.
"Change routes!"
The violently closed door blocked the leader's advance. His brow furrowed intensely as he turned without hesitation, preparing to execute Plan C.
But when he completed his turn, his heartbeat stopped momentarily again.
The final teammate had also disappeared—soundlessly, impossibly.
Cold sweat erupted instantly across the leader's forehead.
He studied the knight armor suits they'd just passed, noting their faceplates still oriented toward him, watching silently.
"Tell me—who do you serve?"
The voice seemed emanating from within the knight armor itself, transmitting ominously into the leader's ears.
"Who are you? Show yourself!" The leader raised both fists defensively, scanning surroundings cautiously.
The ominous voice shifted direction, emanating from above:
"Answer me."
The leader immediately looked upward. Nothing overhead.
"I serve myself." The leader steadied himself, slowly retreating toward Plan C's designated route while attempting to determine the voice's actual origin.
"Purpose for stealing the tablet?" This time the voice emerged from directly behind the leader. Impossibly close.
But when the leader spun to look, nobody stood behind him.
"I don't know." The figure spoke coldly. "Play your ghost tricks all you want. But you'd better not interfere with—"
THUD!
A muffled impact struck the leader's skull. His head tilted sideways as he collapsed cleanly to the floor, unconscious.
Beside the fallen leader, Batman released the fist that had knocked him out, crouching to extract the stone fragment from the man's clothing.
The Arkham suit's white lenses reactivated. Batman recorded the fragment's complete material composition and curved patterns before casually tossing it away.
SNAP!
Under Batman's precise force control, the tablet landed perfectly inside its original explosion-proof glass case.
Batman wouldn't remove this stone fragment.
Since someone wanted it, leaving it here made perfect bait.
"Theft purpose? Employer?"
SMACK!
"Purpose. Employer?"
WHAM!
"Tell me everything you know."
CRASH!
Five black-clad thieves. Batman interrogated each separately. Ultimately, beyond confirming this crew accepted payment for services without knowing their employer's identity—professional thieves functioning as pure tools—he learned nothing.
Either these thieves possessed unyielding resolve, or they genuinely knew nothing about their employer's identity or the tablet theft's purpose. Testimony held zero value.
Batman didn't excessively mistreat them. After confirming interrogation yielded no useful information, he rendered them unconscious and suspended them throughout the Roman galleries, awaiting tomorrow's museum opening for police processing.
A theft case—neither major nor minor, ultimately incomplete—had left Batman without leads.
Batman felt no frustration. Instead, his gaze swept the Roman galleries thoughtfully. The situation was acquiring challenge.
After recording all five faces and confiscating window-breaching tools and equipment, Batman didn't linger in the Roman galleries. He turned toward the magnificent columned hall.
Batman hadn't forgotten the incident during his earlier tracking: someone in the columned hall had been watching him.
Batman trusted his instincts. Even though spider-sense and visual confirmation had detected nobody in the columned hall.
The magnificent columned hall remained pin-drop silent. Batman stood behind the column where that gaze had originated, examining floor and pillar.
Again, zero evidence. That gaze truly seemed hallucinatory—no physical traces whatsoever.
The column was solid. No possibility of concealment inside. The floor tiles fit seamlessly. Besides, if the watcher had contacted surrounding environment in any way, Batman would have detected something.
Just as Batman's brow furrowed in contemplation, that observed sensation returned.
Almost the instant that gaze emerged, Batman spun with extreme speed, looking toward its source.
He glimpsed an enormous white figure standing at the Egyptian gallery entrance—vanishing the moment Batman spotted it.
The Egyptian gallery's originally sealed door had somehow opened. Pitch-black darkness within resembled an abyss inviting Batman's investigation.