A rare day off, a proper break. Today, Liu A'dou was going to return the Black Swan's Tear, and while he was at it, scout a few new targets around Gotham City.
Preparation was everything. Every great magic trick needed tons of setup behind the scenes. Like the motor in Gotham Hotel—it had been installed in secret days before. Same with the ventilation ducts in Gotham Museum and the steel wires on the skylight. All carefully planned, all ready ahead of time.
Every one of Liu A'dou's performances worked this way. Nothing came out of nowhere.
On his day off, Liu A'dou was busier than when he worked. Stealing while on the job just meant squeezing it into his schedule, making sure he didn't vanish too often. No one would suspect him of being Kaitou Kid as long as he didn't disappear regularly. But out on his own time, there was always the chance he'd run into one of Gotham's big players.
Under the heavy night sky, Liu A'dou opened up his triangular glider, riding Gotham's winds between the towers. His first stop: the police station. He'd already checked it out. Gordon's office was on the side of the building—perfect for slipping the gem back in through the window.
Wind tugged at the hair under his hat as he glided through the steel jungle, landing lightly on the rooftop next door to the station. From here, he could see Gordon's office light still on. It was late, past midnight, but Gordon was still hard at work at his desk. A rare kind of cop in Gotham, the true model detective.
"You should thank me. Anyone else wouldn't bother giving back a gem worth millions." He pulled out his white gadget gun. The odd-looking device used compressed air to shoot playing cards, ropes, or streamers—perfect for magic tricks. It was Liu A'dou's favorite tool. With the pressure adjusted just right, it could smash glass with a card or gently toss out a flag.
"Returning the Black Swan's Tear — Kaitou Kid."
The card was already written. He'd stuck the gem to it with strong clear tape and loaded it into the barrel, setting the air pressure.
Standing on the building's ledge, one hand in his pocket, the wind whipped at his cape, but he stood tall, unmoved. His lips curled into a slight grin as he pulled the trigger.
Whoosh—
The card shot from the barrel, rolled through the air, and opened mid-flight, flying straight into Gordon's office. It stuck perfectly into the edge of Gordon's desk, making the detective jump.
Wide-eyed, Gordon grabbed the card off the desk and saw the gem attached. He quickly read the message, then ran to the window—and there was Kid, standing on the ledge across from him, hands still in his pockets. His outfit, bold against the night, stood out sharply. The cape flared like a flag, impossible to miss.
"Kaitou Kid." Gordon caught the glint of the monocle over Kid's right eye. He'd returned the gem—again. What was this guy playing at? Gordon watched as Kid moved, pulling his right hand free and touching two fingers to his forehead in a kind of salute.
Then Kid leaned forward off the rooftop, and Gordon's heart jumped. For a second, he thought Kid would fall to his death—but then, Kid's white cape snapped tight, forming a triangular glider. The wind from below lifted him, and he soared into the night. Just like Batman. And somehow, that hat never flew off.
Looking down at the gem in his hand, Gordon couldn't help but wonder, just for a moment—maybe he's not such a bad guy after all.
Returning the gem wasn't the only thing on the list—there were other things to do, targets to scout. Who knew, maybe he'd even run into Batman tonight. Before, he had to sneak around because he wasn't ready. But now everything was in place, and Liu A'dou could move freely.
At night, Gotham's dark side came out in full force—muggings, brawls, street racing, drug deals—eating away at the foundations of this ancient city. By day, the city was run by the government. At night, it belonged to the gangs.
And worse than the gangs? The supervillains. The night was their stage, and they owned it.
Sure enough, from above, A'dou spotted a group of thugs with rainbow-dyed hair shoving a woman into a car. He wasn't planning to get involved—until he noticed her hair. It looked way too familiar. He took a closer look—Iselin?
What was she doing here? It was already late, and she'd crossed paths with thugs? From the way she could barely stand, if they weren't holding her up, she must've been drunk again.
He couldn't ignore it now. But the car was already moving, heading out of the city.
"Where are they taking her?" Time to follow.
Kaitou Kid's glider could fly for long stretches if the wind was right. He could land whenever he wanted. Flying high above, he tailed them from a distance. Hopefully, she wouldn't get hurt. Where was Batman when you needed him?
The further the car went, the more deserted it got, until finally A'dou saw lights ahead. They were near Gotham's outskirts now—any further, and it wouldn't be Batman's territory anymore.
A rundown asylum lit up like a beacon in the dark. Something wasn't right. It had three floors. As the car stopped, A'dou landed on the roof. He watched as Iselin was dragged into the eerie building.
Inside, it looked like they were making something. The lit room below was filled with shadows moving busily. But he didn't see Iselin. Instead, the place was packed with jars and containers. A'dou, with his sharp knowledge of chemicals, caught the scent in the air. They were cooking drugs—this was a whole drug lab.
He needed to find Iselin fast and call the cops.
"Boss, this is the woman who's been sniffing around our business. I brought her in," one thug said.
"I told you not to call me boss. Call me Fear," a cold voice came from the shadows of the office. The desk lamp only lit up Iselin's unconscious face. "She's a real beauty."
"Yeah, boss—uh, I mean Fear. She wasn't easy to catch. Knows how to fight too. If it wasn't for your stuff, she'd have gotten away."
"Oh? You used my new drug? How'd it work?"
"Amazing! First, she started hallucinating, then just passed out like she saw a ghost," the thug gushed with admiration, laying it on thick.
"Hehehehehe—" the shadow laughed, then leaned into the light. Even his own men flinched.
His head was wrapped in a burlap sack, with rough, stitched openings for the mouth, nose, and eyes. The grotesque look made him seem like a half-finished horror doll. The sack was torn in places, with tufts of messy hair poking out.
"Scarecrow?" Watching from a crack in the window, Kid recognized Gotham's master of fear and drugs.
"Wake her up. She needs to see more fear. Hehehe—" Scarecrow chuckled. Behind the sack, there was no smile—just one bloodshot, terrifying eye.