Chapter 168: The Long Easter (3)

"It seems they're angry now," Cobblepot sneered, gazing out at the heavy rain. Schiller said to him: "You probably already know—Gordon's received many patients with symptoms similar to yours. Your conditions are all linked to exposure to rain."

Schiller shook his head. "In psychiatric cases, it's rare for two patients to have identical symptoms—but now there are far more than two."

"We're discussing how to respond. Gotham's drainage is dire. If this continues, flooding will break out tonight."

Batman's voice blended with the rain. Suddenly, the room flashed bright—light bleached every object white—then a thunderous boom rolled from afar. All three turned to the window.

Schiller looked at Batman. "I've got a pile of patients. I don't want to get involved in this mess..."

Batman stared at him, seemingly unbothered by his excuses, as if certain Schiller had more to say. Sure enough, Schiller continued: "But they made me pay a fortune for a cheap, broken umbrella—then poured this downpour on me the moment I had none."

The rain outside grew heavier. Thunder drowned out their conversation. Near the horizon, Gotham University was shrouded in black mist—except one office, lit and noisy.

"Are you certain this distance can redirect all the rain in this area to the designated height?"

"Look here... we must monitor the water pressure here. Without structural reinforcement, the underground sewer system could collapse entirely..."

"This spot needs controlled demolition. Yes, I'm certain..."

Professors clustered around the desk, debating back and forth. On the surface, they discussed how to resolve Gotham's severe surface flooding.

Most people couldn't last three minutes in such a discussion—they spouted endless engineering and mechanics terms that made listeners dizzy.

But this wasn't mere theoretical chatter. One after another, demolition engineering terms tumbled from their lips—clearly another Gotham-style meeting.

In Gotham Police Department, Gordon, having just dealt with delusional criminals, took a hot coffee from a young officer. He lifted his arm and drained it, then sat behind his desk. He barely settled when a shadow appeared behind him.

Gordon turned. He sighed. "Batman, you don't need to make your entrances so terrifying every time."

"I need your help, Detective Gordon."

Gordon didn't answer. He listened as Batman continued: "I'll activate Bat-Signals at several locations across Gotham. Then, gang engineering crews will arrive to begin excavation. You must send officers to protect them."

Gordon opened his mouth, speechless. "You want the police to protect gang members?"

He turned, extended his hand. "Alright—if you're targeting that secret organization and need our cooperation, I understand. But are you certain those gangsters actually need our protection?"

Batman's tone was grave. "To guard against possible sudden attacks. Police heavy firepower is essential."

"Can you tell me the plan? I'm responsible for my officers' lives."

Batman shook his head. "Remember the nursery rhyme? 'The Owl Court watches your every move...'"

Gordon felt a chill crawl up his spine. He instinctively scanned his office—but couldn't refute Batman. If supernatural forces were involved, Gordon couldn't be sure he wasn't being watched.

"I can assure you, this plan will work."

Gordon stared at him. Finally, Batman said: "Because I'm Batman."

Clouds thickened. Raindrops slammed into the ground with crushing force. Yet amid the relentless downpour, a faint hum arose—then several blinding lights ignited across Gotham.

Schiller stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of Arkham's ward, watching multiple bat symbols projected onto the black night sky.

Amid the roaring spring thunder, the motionless Bat-Signs seemed to come alive, refracted through rainlines like storm-battered storm-petrels, surging with defiant power against the dark.

Before this, the clamor of rain had drowned all sound. Clouds swallowed every light. The vast city felt sealed in an aquarium, sinking, sinking deeper into the abyss.

The moment the Bat-Signs ignited, drowned Gotham stirred to life—like a drowning man transformed into a whale unafraid of ocean currents. Chaotic voices shattered darkness. Lights blazed like fire, igniting what should never burn in water. Bubbles surged, bursting through the frozen surface, sending ripples everywhere.

In the rain-soaked night, explosions outshone thunder. Engineering crews drove machines forward, roaring. Truck fleets' headlights sliced through rain like blades. Horns shrieked like steam whistles, announcing the night's frenzy.

Shouts, yells, chaotic cries. Gang members rallied each other—more chaotic than chaos, more insane than madness. They blasted rock, shattered pavement, dug downward where beams lit up—until they carved dozens of artificial chasms into the city's surface.

Fearless, indifferent to rain like arrows, wind like knives. Madness was Gotham's poison—and its armor.

As more structures rose, rain falling onto Gotham's surface began being channeled underground.

Cobblepot stood atop the roof of Arkham, watching firelight rise through the rain. He didn't hold an umbrella, didn't care. His sunken eyes burned with madness. He sneered, muttering to himself: "You rats will never understand—Gotham is Gotham, and only ever will be Gotham..."

Surface water in Gotham began draining underground. In a dark chamber beneath the city, a figure wearing a white bird mask let out a scornful laugh.

"They're probably just trying to save themselves," a masked woman sneered. "Even fools have some sense."

"Isn't it too risky to activate the Water Project this early? We've spent years preparing—even altered the sewers since the city's founding..." asked a younger voice.

"They've discovered us. Used such despicable tactics against us. We must make them pay! How dare they..."

All voices erupted in fury—then fell silent, as if recalling that day's scene, forcing back nausea.

"We cannot abandon Gotham," a frail voice said. "Retreat and relocation are temporary. We've invested too long here. We will never surrender this to anyone."

"The Immortal Wood's Miracle"

"This is our most secret base," the woman said. "As long as they can't find us, even if monsters run wild above, it's none of our concern."

She turned to a man beside her. "Check our seals again. Don't let any rain seep in."

"They probably intend to drain the rain through the underground system into the sea—but it's impossible. The sewer system lacks that drainage speed. Gotham will drown."

"After this rain, chaos will seep into every corner of Gotham again—just like ten years ago."

"The Owl will forever watch here. Fear. Scream. They will be our food..."

In the dark chamber, a chorus of owl-like giggles echoed—like night owls calling through the woods.

Rain never ceased. More water flowed underground, but the flow slowed. Gordon stood beside a construction fence, shouting: "The sewer system's at its limit! The entire underground of Gotham is flooded!"

Block sat on his motorcycle, swinging a flashlight toward him. The blinding light made Gordon shield his eyes. He heard Block shout: "They say everything's set! Prepare for evacuation!!"

Gordon turned, waving his arm. "Everyone evacuate! Move to the upper floors!"

He picked up the phone. "District 5! Is the supervisor there listening? How's your situation? Have all personnel evacuated from the first and second floors?!"

"Didn't you tell them it's the Don's order?! How many times must I say: follow orders and evacuate?! Do you want Falcone to call them himself?!"

Block held his umbrella, shouting: "We can only hope their method works. Otherwise, Gotham will drown."

Gordon hung up. "We have to trust Batman. We have no choice."

Soon, lights in Gotham's upper floors began turning on, while lower-floor lights went dark. Everyone moved upward.

Owl Court members monitoring surveillance dismissed this as mere delay. To them, the flood would eventually crush everything. No height mattered.

But soon, they stopped laughing.

In the dark chamber, Owl Court members suddenly felt a violent cold wind sweep through their base. The ice storm erupted from its origin, instantly engulfing every corner beneath Gotham.

Torrential rain froze into ice. Raindrops striking the ground splashed into crystalline ice shards.

From above, giant snowflakes bloomed from a small device. In an instant, all liquid on Gotham's surface and ground froze—as if time halted.

Then, multiple emitters launched into the sky, exploding in the clouds. Water within the clouds froze into ice, shattering mid-fall, striking the ground as solid ice blocks.

Between the clouds above Gotham, layers of frigid air formed a low-temperature band. Rain falling now turned to swirling snow.

Within minutes, Gotham's entire sky and underground were encased in ice. The city froze like a paused video—not just the aquarium, but the hand reaching in to fish, frozen too.

The ice's hardness rivaled bedrock. Thousands of meters of ice encased the Owl Court's base. Everyone was encased in a single solid block.

"Is this Victor Fries' work?" Batman asked Schiller in Arkham's ward.

"Show some respect to your professor. Don't call him by his full name. And even if you ask, I can guess—you've already prepared hundreds of plans to counter him."

"The man who froze Gotham..." Batman murmured.

"Actually, freezing doesn't solve the real rain clouds," Schiller shook his head. "The ice emitters' effectiveness proves someone tampered with the rain clouds storing the water."

"Enough with your anti-freeze-Gotham plans. I think you should see something clearer..."

"What?"

Batman watched Schiller walk to the window, stopping before the glass. He stared out at the icy night. Cold light from snow reflected on his face. Schiller said casually:

"When I have no umbrella, no one gets to rain."

————Author's Note————

Ten thousand characters today! Please vote!

Today's revision took longer—I wrote six thousand words of draft material, so I'm late. Apologies.