Night had fully settled over Hell's Kitchen, and the streets below were wrapped in neon haze and restless shadows. On the rooftop of a speeding vehicle, the black silhouette of the Batmobile cut through traffic like a silent predator.
Inside, the Oracle AI suddenly issued a sharp alert.
The miniature tracker that had been secretly placed on The Cat Burglar had gone offline. Not malfunctioned. Not lost signal.
Destroyed.
That single word changed everything.
Batman was six hundred meters away from the tracker's last location. In most situations, that distance was manageable. Tonight, however, it felt like a battlefield measured in heartbeats.
Without hesitation, the Batmobile's armored roof slid open while still in motion. The electromagnetic ejection system activated.
In a split second, Batman was launched diagonally upward into the cold night air.
The city wind roared past him.
With precise timing, he fired a Batarang, its line anchoring to the edge of a nearby skyscraper. Combined with the enhanced physical strength of Peter Parker's body, Batman swung upward with explosive force and landed silently on the rooftop.
He did not pause.
The night he captured Scorpion Mac and Walker, he had memorized every suspicious property tied to Kingpin. One sixteen-story low-rise building stood out — a former corporate front that had quietly transformed into a criminal stronghold. From this vantage point, he could see straight into what used to be Kingpin's office.
Inside the building, five meters away from The Cat Burglar, stood a man wearing a dark blue jumpsuit and a black trench coat.
It was Bullseye.
---
The Assassin's Game
"Kingpin has been defeated by that Bat," Bullseye said calmly. "Most of his bones shattered."
His tone was almost conversational.
"If I were him, I'd rather commit suicide than live as a cripple."
In his hand, he casually tossed a miniature tracker up and down — the very same device Batman had planted.
The Cat Burglar's eyes narrowed.
"Shulman is a great inventor," Bullseye continued. "He can build canes for Kingpin. He can build weapons for me."
He placed the tracker on the desk.
"You're different," he added. "Kingpin didn't want to lead anymore. But you? You could."
"I have no intention of competing for control," The Cat Burglar replied.
"Yes," Bullseye said softly. "You won't."
He lifted a dark hood from the desk and began pulling it over his head.
That moment — a fraction of a second — was all she needed.
Her body lunged forward.
From her black leather gloves, metal Talons extended with a cold flash.
But even with his eyes partially covered, Bullseye moved first.
His arm blurred.
The tracker left his hand like a fired bullet.
She dodged, but the message was clear:
He didn't need sight.
Bullseye's hood settled into place. Only his chin remained visible. On his forehead, three concentric circles formed a perfect target symbol.
A bullseye.
---
A Daughter's Rage
The Cat Burglar froze, memories flooding back.
Her father's throat had been slit by a single playing card.
Bullseye never missed.
Now several cards rested between his fingers. They looked soft, harmless — but she knew better.
Across the street, six hundred meters away, Batman watched through reinforced glass.
Peter Parker's enhanced vision allowed him to see clearly inside the office.
The angle. The distance. The window glass. The wind speed between buildings.
The Batarang would not travel that far accurately.
He needed mass.
Weight.
Impact.
His eyes moved.
There — part of a cracked rooftop wall.
Without hesitation, Batman smashed his fist into it. Brick fractured under controlled force. He tore out half of it.
He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second.
Wind speed.
Gravity drop over 600 meters.
Glass resistance.
Head-level impact zone.
"My strength cannot be too strong nor too weak," he calculated internally. "The brick must break the glass and continue forward."
No more time.
He drew his arm back.
And threw.
---
The Brick
The brick left his hand like artillery.
It vanished into darkness.
Inside the office, Bullseye spoke calmly.
"Are you a police informant? Or an undercover agent from another gang? You—"
BANG!
The office window exploded inward.
A palm-sized brick tore through the glass and struck the exact center of the target symbol on Bullseye's forehead.
The sound was heavy. Final.
One moment he stood in full control.
The next moment he collapsed instantly.
Unconscious.
The Cat Burglar instinctively crouched, heart pounding.
Fragments of brick scattered across the floor.
Her mind raced.
Where did that brick come from?
---
The Bat Arrives
A dark shape crashed through the shattered window.
Batman landed silently.
He stared at Bullseye lying motionless, the target symbol cracked and bloodied beneath brick dust.
For a brief second, even Batman was silent.
The irony was almost poetic.
"You're wondering why he drew a target on his head," The Cat Burglar said as she rose slowly.
Batman gave a small nod.
"To be honest," she admitted, "I don't know either."
She kicked Bullseye once to confirm he was out cold. Then she found rope and bound him tightly.
Batman reinforced the binding with black spider silk — stronger than steel.
---
A New Plan
"Where is Shulman?" Batman asked.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "After you defeated Kingpin at the Osborn Group building, Shulman disappeared."
She hesitated.
"Was it you who worked with the president and lawyer of that security company to expose Kingpin?"
Batman did not deny it.
Instead, he stepped closer.
"I need your cooperation."
Her eyes sharpened immediately.
"What kind?"
His voice dropped lower.
"Declare publicly that you defeated Bullseye."
She blinked.
"Take control of Kingpin's remaining forces. Gather them. Announce a territorial expansion."
"And then?"
"Let the police round them all up."
The Cat Burglar stared at him.
It was bold.
Risky.
Brilliant.
She understood immediately. By pretending to consolidate power, she would draw every remaining gang loyalist into one visible operation.
The police could wipe them out in a single coordinated strike.
"And you?" she asked quickly, afraid he would vanish before answering.
"I have other plans."
His cape spread wide like wings.
And then he was gone.
---
The Long Night
The city lights flickered below.
This night was far from over.
Kingpin had fallen.
Bullseye had fallen.
But something bigger was moving in the shadows.
Batman's gaze shifted toward a different kind of power structure — one not run by criminals in alleyways, but by agents operating behind classified files and sealed documents.
An organization that believed it watched everyone.
S.H.I.E.L.D..
If Hell's Kitchen was a battlefield of brute force, S.H.I.E.L.D. was a battlefield of intelligence and secrets.
And tonight, Batman intended to test their defenses.
Not with bricks.
Not with brute strength.
But with wisdom.
Because sometimes, a half-broken brick thrown from six hundred meters away was more than strength.
It was calculation.
It was timing.
It was discipline.
It was proof that even in a world of assassins and secret agencies, precision and patience could reshape the board.
The wind carried his cape into the darkness as he moved across rooftops.
The war for Hell's Kitchen was ending.
A new game was beginning.
And this time, the opponent would not be a crime lord.
It would be an organization that believed it already controlled the world's secrets.
The night belonged to the Bat.
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