When Batman first showed up at his window, Jude's immediate response was refusal.
"You can't just appear and expect me to follow you." He fumbled for clothes in the darkness, pulling on pants with one hand while gesturing at the shadow by his window with the other. "Do you know what time it is? And can you please start using doors like a normal person?"
"This is important." Batman's voice carried its usual gravel-and-certainty combination, completely ignoring the door complaint. "You've broken magical control before—the Valentine's Day chocolate you gave Bruce Wayne. The same ones you sent to Harvey and Gordon."
Jude froze mid-shirt. "You were listening to that phone call?"
Of course he was. Batman eavesdropped on everyone. Standard operating procedure.
"I've experienced your methods before," Jude said, yanking his shirt over his head. "But hearing about it again? Still creepy. Deeply, profoundly creepy."
He found his shoes. "As for the chocolate—yeah, I remember. Bruce and Selina looked good together, and Bruce had helped the kids, so I figured why not return the favor. The chocolate does use special ingredients, but it's mainly just good."
He paused. "Wait. Bruce was under control?"
"Not just Bruce. Many others. Very important people." Batman's silhouette shifted slightly. "You're the one who can fix this."
Liar, Jude thought. Batman always had backup plans. Contingencies for his contingencies. This wasn't about Jude being the only option—it was about Jude being the best option.
But the man was already here. Refusing would be heartless at this point.
"Fine." Jude sighed, reaching for his jacket. "Let me grab some clothes and props. Something to hide my identity. Can't have people recognizing—"
Twenty minutes later, a psychopath dressed like a bat and a psychopath dressed like Ghostface arrived at a white-collar worker's apartment in the Batmobile.
"I'm just saying," Jude announced from behind his cheap horror mask, deliberately lowering his voice to imitate Batman's threatening rumble, "if you pick me up in the Batmobile every time, I will always help you. No questions asked."
His heart was still racing from the ride—pure adrenaline and speed, the city blurring past at velocities that should have been illegal. Even sitting quietly in the closed back seat, unable to see anything, the sensation had been incredible.
"...The victim is inside," Batman said flatly. "Follow me."
Which brought them to the present moment.
"Wait, let me adjust." Jude gripped the table edge, breathing slowly as the last of the language download settled into his brain. Three, four, five minutes passed before he straightened.
He walked toward the unfortunate white-collar worker still tied to the chair, vines pulsing across his torso like alien biology.
"Okay. From this point forward, you can call me a negotiation expert." He cracked his knuckles. "Let's see if I can convince these plants to relocate peacefully."
Batman remained silent, watching Jude with the kind of intensity that suggested he was calculating odds of catastrophic failure.
Jude ignored him. He leaned close to the vines, head tilted like he was listening to something only he could hear.
"Hi there. My name is Jude. I'm here to negotiate terms. What's your name?"
Silence. To Batman, anyway.
Three minutes passed.
"Ah—yes, absolutely! I totally agree that grapevines are more aesthetically pleasing than gourd vines. Much more elegant."
Another three minutes.
"Oh, I completely understand. You appreciate music—that shows real refinement! What kind? Heavy metal?" Jude's voice pitched slightly higher. "Uh. Interesting choice."
Batman's hand landed on Jude's shoulder with the weight of divine judgment. He couldn't understand what Jude was saying. He couldn't hear any response from the plant. But he was absolutely certain Jude was having a genuinely pleasant conversation with parasitic vegetation—because no normal person could generate this many unique conversational topics with a vine.
"We don't have much time," Batman said, voice dropping to warning levels. "There are many more victims tonight."
"Right, right." Jude waved a hand. "Business first, socializing later."
He turned back to the vines. "Alright, buddy. Time to relocate."
Then—smoothly, calmly, without resistance—the vines unwound themselves from the white-collar worker's body and climbed onto Jude's outstretched hand. They settled around his wrist like a bracelet, content and docile.
Jude pulled a lollipop from his pocket and popped it into the victim's mouth. The man's torn, damaged flesh began knitting itself back together—skin regenerating, wounds closing. Within thirty seconds, his face twitched. Eyelids fluttered.
Batman knocked him unconscious with a single precise strike to the temple.
Jude pulled out the lollipop with a wet pop, then tossed the limp body toward Batman. "Thank God he's not bleeding. Otherwise we'd have to deal with cleanup."
Batman caught the body one-handed, eyes tracking Jude's throwing motion. Calculating strength, trajectory, physical capability.
Tactical paranoia never sleeps.
"I'll return him to his home," Batman said. "Security is tight in the next building. Wait for my signal."
Three hours later, Jude stood completely covered in vines—arms, torso, legs all wrapped in green, pulsing plant matter. He looked like a nature documentary gone horribly wrong.
He stared at the tenth victim struggling in front of him, throat raw from constant negotiation. He downed half a bottle of water, then turned to Batman with barely controlled exasperation.
"How many more?"
"Four."
"Four?" Jude gestured at his vine-covered body. "I've got full plant on me! Where am I supposed to put four more?"
"I'll carry them."
"Are you even compatible? Do you speak plant?"
Batman's silence was answer enough.
"Forget it." Jude pulled up his system interface with fumbling, vine-wrapped fingers. "If we want efficiency, we need better incentives."
He scrolled through the shop categories until he found what he needed.
SYSTEM SHOP: Dave's Garden Series
Dave's Portable Garden
Price: $10,000
Note: This isn't an ordinary garden. This is paradise—capable of meeting any environmental need.
Jude bought it. Cost-effective, practical, and he could grow useful plants later. Investment thinking.
Dave's Flower Pots
Price: $1,000 each
Note: This isn't an ordinary flowerpot. This is fertile soil where any plant can thrive.
Simple but essential. He bought ten—one for each vine currently wrapped around various victims.
Dave's Fertilizer
Price: $750
Note: "Cool, cool, cool!" — A plant that just absorbed fertilizer
He bought a bag. His biweekly salary from Maroni would hit his account tomorrow. Even with these purchases, he'd still have over $94,000 in asset points.
Acceptable losses for mission efficiency.
Jude pulled a flowerpot from beneath his oversized black robe, sprinkled fertilizer into the soil, and held it in front of the vines currently strangling their latest victim.
"I don't want to waste time talking," he said calmly. "So here's the deal—"
The vines practically leaped into the flowerpot.
No resistance. No negotiation. Just pure, enthusiastic migration—like a husky spotting a bone, a cat finding catnip, a Gothamite discovering an unlocked car.
Batman stared.
Jude straightened his Ghostface mask, adjusting it with theatrical precision.
"Please," he said, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Call me a negotiation expert."