Chapter 199: But Is All This Worth It?

"Today marks the fourth day of the battle between the Sledgehammer and Deathstroke in Gotham City. Thank heavens, we've received word that this utter disaster has finally been contained. Just now, Batman captured both of them and returned them to prison. We can finally rest easy for a while."

"Yes, yes, Batman successfully stopped two criminals; Batman is a hero again—but at what cost? Is all of this worth it?"

"Frank, what do you want to say?"

"Four days, Bill, a full four days. These three super-dangerous madmen treated Gotham like a playground; any district could become their battlefield. Add a perverted Kite Man, and four madmen together are like playing mahjong. I know the Kite Man saved many people, so let's set him aside—you know what shape Gotham has been thrown into these past four days? Central Station was swept by gunfire, buildings in the Park District were blown up; wherever they went, bullets followed!"

"Hey! Batman has already driven them to the No Man's Land to fight. Only a dozen or so Gotham citizens were injured, and no one died. This is already a blessing in misfortune!"

"Good heavens, that's only three! The Joker sends one, the Riddler sends one, plus Batman makes one, and they've already thrown Gotham City into great chaos. Do you know how many madmen the Joker and the Riddler have left right now? Do you know how many casualties the mercenaries under their command cause every day? Do you need me to count them for you? When that group fights, the days of Gotham being turned upside down are still far from over."

"So what do you want to do? Hand Batman over and then expect the madmen to show mercy?"

"End the war! The priority now is to end the war! We are currently outside the combat zone, but the combat zone is still a meat grinder! And even if the Federal Special Forces arrive, they might not be able to stop that group of madmen!"

Chief Gordon solemnly turned off the news broadcast playing on his phone. Although the host named Frank spoke very unpleasantly, unfortunately, he was indeed not wrong.

He raised his pipe and took a puff of smoke. A massive Bat-Signal projected a beam of light carrying a bat shadow from beside him, shooting straight into the night sky.

"You sought me out."

Batman stepped out of the darkness; he arrived as silently as always.

"Did you hear what was said on the television program?" Gordon asked.

"The cost."

"No, not the cost, nor the madmen." Gordon shook his head: "Those are just opinions; the point is the facts."

"The Federal Special Forces."

"Exactly, they just gave me the news, news about the Federal Special Forces."

"They have already arrived."

Gordon paused, looked at Batman, and then replied: "Yes, they have already been here."

"While I was fighting Slade and Little Floyd."

"Yes, it was at that moment. They arrived silently. Two special forces units, the elite among the elite, acted simultaneously. One entered the East District, and one entered the Upper West District."

"They are only telling me now to 'clean up the Gotham Police Department's mess'."

"But something went wrong."

"." Gordon fell silent for a moment, looked at the watch in his hand: "It has been twenty minutes since the operation began."

"Just now, the unit in the Upper West District lost contact. Now—they are completely silent."

At this moment, Chief Gordon's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID; it was a colleague from the police station, so he answered the call.

"Chief, someone is contacting you; they called your landline—it's the Riddler."

Gordon and Batman exchanged a glance, then quickly rushed toward his office.

"Chief Gordon?"

"Riddler, what do you want to do?"

"Just wanted to remind the Gotham Police Department not to throw trash around carelessly." The Riddler on the other end of the phone replied calmly: "Handling them took quite a bit of effort on my part, but in any case, I have decided to observe the etiquette of a host."

"Chief Gordon, any location in the East District is at your service at any time. I am also at your service to welcome you in to 'clean up that mess'."

Hearing this, Chief Gordon couldn't help but clench his fist. These were the exact words the Federal Special Forces had used when talking to the police station. Knowing this phrase meant the Riddler had mastered the movements of the Federal Special Forces in advance.

A buzzing sound came from the phone. After completing this one-sided notification, the Riddler hung up directly.

Ding-a-ling—

Commissioner Gordon frowned. Immediately following the Riddler's call, his phone rang again, giving him a sense of ominous foreboding.

"Hello?"

"Gordon, the operation failed. The unit in the Upper West District was wiped out. That bastard Joker used their communicator to contact us."

Commissioner Gordon sighed; he hated that he could always guess these bad things.

"What did he say?"

"He said he wanted to buy some camouflage uniforms a couple of days ago, but couldn't find a single one, saying..."

As he spoke these words, the person on the other end gritted his teeth, obviously burning with rage.

"He said thank you for our camouflage uniforms."

Chief Gordon fell silent, speechless.

Evening, at Wayne Manor.

Bruce Wayne silently gazed at the Bat-Signal in the sky, watching smoke rise everywhere in the Park District, hearing gunshots, and watching the Kite Man flying in the sky.

I have a way to deal with those guys, he thought secretly. The Penguin, the Ventriloquist, Killer Croc... I can defeat them, but I need time, and Gotham City is currently most short of time.

Every minute and second, while Batman is entangled in battle with those super-criminals, the soldiers hired by both sides are fighting and slaughtering each other all over the city, and relying solely on the Kite Man or Ma Ma Zhaodi is insufficient to save everyone of that scale.

I must do something, he thought in his heart. What Batman cannot do, let Bruce Wayne try.

"Alfred." He suddenly turned to look at the old butler beside him: "I intend to arrange a dinner party."

A look of astonishment immediately appeared on Alfred's face: "A dinner party? Oh, certainly, I will arrange it for you—but whom do you intend to entertain at this time?"

"Hmm, when I was young, my mother once said that when you are lost, having a dinner is enough."

"Back then, I would argue: What's so special about dinner? We eat every day, yet we don't feel it contains any magic. Mother would say, Bruce, it's not an ordinary dinner; it's a traditional, French nine-course meal."

Hearing this, Alfie's face showed an expression of understanding.

"It is not merely eating, but the art of eating—sitting at the table, taking time to understand your food, and also taking time to understand the guests you choose to entertain, those who share the food with you."

"If you do it right, with propriety and courtesy, well-prepared and skillfully executed, then this dinner will save you from confusion."

"Of course, Young Master." Alfred said: "I will arrange this dinner party for you."

"Please rest assured."

(End of Chapter)