After the drug lab bust, the police recovered a playing card.
Gordon recognized it immediately—it was the same kind of card used by Kaitou Kid at the Gotham Hotel. It seemed Kid had run into something here, maybe an attack, and fought back.
"It's Scarecrow," came a low, deliberate voice behind Gordon. "I can smell his toxins."
"It's Scarecrow, alright. Too bad he got away," Gordon said with regret. "We also found this. Kid's card—it's got some residue on it, possibly Scarecrow's new toxin."
"These men weren't Scarecrow's original crew," Batman said as he stepped out from the shadows. His imposing figure clad in pitch-black armor, only his sharp eyes and thin lips visible. The iconic bat symbol stretched across his chest, his black cape brushing his ankles, and gauntlets armed with sharp, backward-facing spikes gleamed in the dim light. He took the card from Gordon without even glancing at it, slipping it into his utility belt. He'd analyze it later in the Batcave.
Gordon couldn't help but overlap the image of the black and white figures in his mind. One was a vigilante, the other a thief. Yet their styles were oddly similar—both cloaked in drama, both cloaked in capes.
"Yeah, they're from the Maya gang," Gordon said. The Maya gang was just a small-time outfit, but now it looked like they were tangled up with Scarecrow. Fallen pretty far.
"They're just pawns. Scarecrow's the real threat," Batman replied. He knew the police would follow up on the Maya gang, but he also knew some lazy officers might pin the whole mess on them and ignore Scarecrow altogether.
"I'll keep an eye on that," Gordon nodded, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket and sticking it between his lips. "And, Kid returned the Black Swan's Tear—" but before he could finish, Batman was already gone.
Gordon shrugged. He should've been used to Batman's vanishing acts by now. But with Scarecrow back on the scene, there was no doubt more trouble was coming. He had his hands full.
Back in the Batcave, Bruce surrounded himself with tech most research labs couldn't even dream of. Money meant nothing to him. The equipment here could buy a small city.
Carefully, he extracted the unknown substance from the card and ran it through analysis. Scarecrow always used fear toxins, but never the same formula twice. Each victim needed a different antidote. That meant Bruce had to analyze everything from scratch—break down the components, then synthesize a cure.
While waiting on the results, he reviewed footage from the Batmobile's cameras, zooming in on Kid's face. Advanced image software enhanced every detail. Even with glare off the monocle hiding much of his features, Bruce could tell from the mouth and skin texture—Kid was young, probably around twenty.
Bruce had been training with the League of Shadows at that age. And yet, this Kid had already pulled off two heists, each worth tens of millions.
Analysis pointed to Kid being Asian, but with Gotham's massive population, that meant over a million suspects. Narrowing it down wouldn't be quick. Still, tonight, Kid had lured the police to a drug den. That didn't seem like something a hardened criminal would do.
"You've been up all night again, Master Bruce?" Alfred's voice cut through the silence, heavy with concern. He hated seeing Bruce pour everything into his Batman identity like this.
"I'm fine. I'm not tired," Bruce replied, eyes still on the monitor.
"Then allow me to share some good news." Alfred, seeing no point in arguing, changed the subject. "The Black Swan's Tear has been returned. It seems Kaitou Kid had no real interest in it after all."
Returned again? Bruce didn't understand. What was Kid after? Was it really just a show of skill? Stealing priceless gems only to give them back—was he just showing off? Did people like that really exist? Someone who would throw away millions, risking everything just for the thrill?
There was a Joker—but he was insane. Hopefully, Kaitou Kid wasn't another lunatic like him.
Iselin was in the hospital, and the station chief asked Liu A'dou to visit her on behalf of Gotham City Channel 3. He even gave him one hundred dollars to buy a gift. "Liu, you're Iselin's best partner and friend. You must bring all our well-wishes to her."
Liu A'dou thought the chief was pretty decent, at least he cared about his staff. "Leave it to me."
"I'm not worried. You may be young, but you're already our best cameraman. I've always trusted you." Clearly, the chief valued Liu A'dou highly.
But Liu A'dou couldn't help but think, This station only has two cameramen, and you're the amateur. How could I not be the best?
After work, Liu A'dou bought flowers, sweets, and fruit, spending all the one hundred dollars.
At the hospital, he asked the nurse for Iselin's room and took the elevator up. Her room was in the quietest corner of the building.
Knock knock.
A light knock on the door.
Liu A'dou heard an unnatural sound behind the door—a click of a gun's firing pin.
So, it really was a mafia boss? He hadn't expected Iselin to be the daughter of a gang leader.
"Who is it?" a man's voice asked from inside.
"Hello, I'm Liu A'dou, Iselin's colleague. I'm here on behalf of everyone at Channel 3 to visit her."
The door cracked open, and Anthony peeked out, scanning the hallway. "Come in."
"Hello, I'm Liu A'dou. May I ask who you are?" Liu A'dou played innocent.
"I'm Iselin's father. Just call me Anthony," he replied.
"These are some small gifts for her." Liu A'dou placed everything down and noticed a folding screen in the middle of the room. There was the faint sound of breathing from behind it—Iselin was asleep.
"She's alright?"
"She's resting. If there's nothing else, I'd ask you to leave. We're not in a position to receive visitors right now." Anthony wasn't being rude—he was actually looking out for Liu A'dou. He knew Scarecrow wouldn't let this go so easily, and he had to stay alert for any retaliation.
Liu A'dou glanced at the bulge under Anthony's coat and knew, even without looking, there was a gun hidden there. "Alright, please tell her Liu A'dou came by. These gifts are from all of us at Channel 3."
"I will." Anthony was already holding the door open to see him out.
Bang. Barely three minutes inside, Liu A'dou was back in the hallway.
"So jumpy…" he muttered. Well, the gifts were delivered. He didn't need to hang around. What he didn't know was that the moment he left, Anthony threw all the gifts away. Scarecrow was a master of poisons—anything with a scent was a risk. The best way to reduce risk was to destroy it.
Anthony wasn't just nervous—he was scared. Scarecrow had a reputation built on blood and fear.
Task done, Liu A'dou left the hospital feeling lighter. As he walked out the front door, he bumped shoulders with a strange man wrapped tightly in a heavy black wool coat. It wasn't even really cold yet—early September—so wearing a wool coat was odd.
Still, Liu A'dou quickly apologized. "Sorry, sir."
The man didn't even lift his head. He just pulled his cowboy hat lower and spoke from between his collar and hat brim. "No, I should be the one saying sorry… hehe—"
His laughter grew louder, and his body shook more violently. Suddenly, he ripped off the hat and coat, revealing Scarecrow's ragged country garb. From beneath the terrifying mask came a chilling declaration: "Hahaha! Sorry? Now go die—Scarecrow is here~!"
Scarecrow flung his limbs wide, and jets of toxic gas burst from his hands and feet, spreading instantly through the hospital entrance.
Liu A'dou barely managed to roll out the front door, dodging the cloud of poison. The others inside weren't so lucky.