Chapter 340: A Situation Long Anticipated
The first level of the Manhattan City Hall Batcave—the air here had been mixed with high-concentration fear gas over a month ago.
With both funding and technology relatively tight, the Batcave couldn't be equipped with a full range of defensive measures including holographic projections. This was a necessary compromise.
Fortunately, mechanisms similar to those at Wayne Manor—pulling a specific book on a moving bookshelf or rotating the head of a Shakespeare bust—had already been installed, taking advantage of nearby Parker Tower's ongoing construction.
But Batman still needed to guard against potential intrusions into the Batcave. Fear gas was one such defensive layer.
The Arkham suit had an air filtration system. Venom Robin didn't need to breathe. Fear gas had absolutely no effect on them.
Only once—when Batman had brought back vampire Professor Morbius and Young Green Goblin Harry Osborn—had Batman dispersed the fear gas from the Batcave in advance.
Otherwise, fear gas had become the norm here.
"Robin, I need you to guard Black Widow in the Batcave until I return." Batman looked at Black Widow collapsed on the ground.
Venom Robin was still in a guilty state after being caught secretly spawning offspring. He nodded repeatedly. "I promise I'll watch her."
Batman lightly patted Venom Robin's shoulder, got into the Batmobile, and quickly disappeared into City Hall's subway station.
He didn't pause for even a moment. Making the somewhat risky decision to leave Black Widow alone under Venom Robin's watch while heading out immediately served two purposes:
One—a hidden production line that had been prepared long ago in a Parker Industries assembly plant factory.
Batman needed to go there to create a brand new suit. The upper body would be red-based, the lower body blue-based, with web patterns wrapping it from head to toe in a skintight design.
Peter Parker's Spider-Man suit.
Two—Batman urgently needed to sleep on South Brother Island.
The reason: his body was experiencing something he'd been quietly worried about since day one of his dimensional crossing. Peter Parker's super strength, enhanced durability, super senses—virtually all his abilities had completely vanished.
To counter Ant-Man Hank Pym and prevent him from breaking through layer after layer of the Vulcan Armor's defenses, Batman had tampered with this body as well. He'd made himself allergic, injected a certain amount of toxins into his system.
These measures kept his body in constant pain and weakness.
This should have been normal. But even after the toxins and allergens had completely left Batman's system, his body remained in a weakened state.
Not just weakness—extreme fatigue and intense pain. His brain sent waves of dizziness. Every muscle fiber and tendon felt like overstretched rubber bands ready to snap at any moment.
In the Batcave, Batman's expression had remained normal. But once he left, even Batman's formidable willpower couldn't prevent him from clenching his teeth to avoid groaning.
He knew this resulted from constant work since his dimensional crossing, with even less fragmented sleep time than during his Gotham days.
Peter Parker's body was like a machine maintained at high-intensity work for too long without proper rest or maintenance. It was now operating under extreme strain.
If Batman weren't using willpower to forcibly sustain himself, he would've already collapsed unconscious like Black Widow in the Batcave.
"Hold on. Just ten more minutes." Batman gritted his teeth, telling himself quietly that he couldn't pass out now.
Currently in all of New York, aside from Tony Stark's Stark Tower, the only place Batman could sleep safely was South Brother Island. Not even Aunt May's house would work.
The Batmobile had a timer. The seconds ticked away one by one. Each second felt like an entire year to Batman.
He discovered that beyond pain, hallucinations had already begun appearing before his eyes.
These hallucinations belonged to both Batman and Peter Parker.
Aunt May. Mary Jane, the girl Peter secretly loved. Alfred. Superman Clark...
When Batman emerged from the hallucinations, his Batmobile had already exited the sewers, stopped at Batman's first temporary operations center after crossing dimensions—the abandoned shipyard.
CLICK—
Batman pressed a button inside the vehicle. The floating armored canopy disassembled and slid open. Batman got out, looking at the massive outline of abandoned vessels disappearing into the night.
No moon tonight. Batman thought of how Khonshu seemed to have truly stopped monitoring him as promised. The nighttime weather had returned to normal lately—currently even thick with clouds.
He leaned against the vehicle, gasping for a while. His physical discomfort hadn't disappeared—it had intensified. Tinnitus appeared. His breathing carried a metallic taste. His eyes felt gritty and sore.
But Batman didn't leave. He remained silent, chest heaving.
WHOOSH—
The rain came suddenly. Bean-sized raindrops fell from thirty thousand feet, pounding against Batman's Vulcan Armor.
Drops that even mischievous children could ignore felt like hammers. Each one striking Batman's armor made his pain intensify.
Even so, Batman still had no intention of leaving. He slowly began walking, limping away from the Batmobile toward an open area of the abandoned shipyard.
With each step forward, Batman's physical incoordination decreased slightly. His walking posture, breathing frequency—everything seemed to shift toward normalcy.
When Batman stopped, he'd forcibly used willpower far stronger than pain to compel himself back to normal.
"Come out," Batman said hoarsely to the seemingly empty abandoned shipyard.
TAP. TAP.
Through Batman's voice and the torrential rain, a burly man with hard features emerged from the darkness.
He wore a black leather coat so wide it was almost like a cape, a slender blade strapped to his back.
Even in this pitch-black night where nothing could be seen, he wore sunglasses.
"How did you discover me, Batman?" He opened his mouth, revealing a full set of white teeth, smiling ambiguously at Batman.
Batman said nothing. He slowly raised both fists to chest height, positioning them one forward and one back in a combat stance.
"I'm the Daywalker—that's what those vampires call me. But I prefer another title: Blade." The newcomer looked at Batman's fists and the wings on the back of his Vulcan Armor. "Though it's rare to see a vampire calling himself Batman."
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