Chapter 3324

Batman didn't have time to pay attention to Nightwing's questioning.

He was standing on the roof of a high-rise, rain hitting his cape, the symphony reaching its climax. And the agile black figure he had locked in the center of his vision was moving lightly between the buildings, the black bodysuit shimmering in the rain.

"Catwoman, stop!" Batman's deep voice came through the rain curtain, carrying a trace of unquestionable majesty.

Catwoman glanced back at him, the corner of her mouth hooking into a sly smile, "Stop? That doesn't sound like my style, Bat."

Before the words fell, she leaped suddenly, the whip in her hand swinging out, wrapping around the railing on the opposite roof, her body swinging over as lightly as a cat. Batman didn't hesitate, the grappling hook in his hand shot out, following closely behind.

The two figures intertwined in Cat Getan's night sky, the rain getting colder, but unable to extinguish this pursuit as hot as fire.

The arc outlined by Catwoman's whip in the air carried some ambiguity, but more of it was deadly danger. The whip was like silk when soft, and like steel when hard. When Catwoman's speed picked up, she was like the most agile cheetah; and when she slowed down, she carried a bit of a house cat's coquettishness.

"What was your goal in infiltrating the Batcave?" Batman asked in a deep voice while pursuing.

"Oh, just a little trinket," Catwoman chuckled, her voice sounding particularly seductive in the rainy night, "But I don't think you'd be interested."

"If you're talking about those collectibles in the Batcave, then you'd better give up now." Batman's voice was stern, the Batarang in his hand already ready to go.

Catwoman's laughter was even more joyful, "You're still so boring, Bat. However, I didn't intend to return empty-handed tonight."

She flipped suddenly, the whip swinging toward Batman's face. Batman quickly turned sideways to dodge, the Batarang in his hand throwing out in the process, aiming directly at Catwoman's shoulder. Catwoman twisted her body agilely, the Batarang flying past the corner of her clothes and nailing into the wall behind her.

"Almost hit," Catwoman teased, "Your aim seems to have regressed."

Batman didn't respond, the grappling hook shot out again, his body approaching Catwoman like a black shadow. Seeing this, Catwoman's whip swung out suddenly, wrapping around the balcony railing of a nearby building, using the force to leap, jumping toward a further roof.

"You can't escape, Catwoman." Batman's voice sounded particularly deep in the rain.

"That's not necessarily true," Catwoman laughed back, "After all, I'm a cat, and you're just a bat."

Finally, Catwoman stopped at the edge of a high-rise, behind her was a drop of dozens of meters. She turned around, facing Batman who was chasing closely, the corners of her mouth still carrying that sly smile.

"Looks like you finally caught up to me," Catwoman said softly, "However, are you sure you want to do it here?"

Batman stood opposite her, rain dripping down his mask, his voice deep and calm: "Hand it over, Selina. Tonight's farce ends here."

Catwoman chuckled and took something out of her bosom. Batman's pupils shrank when he saw that thing.

"Are you talking about this? Too bad, it's mine now."

"That is the diary of the Wayne family ancestors, you cannot take it away."

"Why not?" Catwoman tilted her head, a trace of provocation flashing in her eyes, "Is it more important to you than me?"

Batman was silent for a moment, then said: "This is not a game, Selina. This thing is very important, and it's not worth any money, give it back to me."

Catwoman's smile gradually faded, her gaze becoming complex, "I'm also talking to you very seriously, but you've never looked up to a thief like me. Your arrogance is a sign of your stupidity."

"Unfortunately, what I brought today is indeed important news—this thing will release a special low-frequency sound wave, used in conjunction with certain things on your body, to gradually affect your mental state."

"I don't understand what you're talking about." Batman's voice remained calm, "This is a relic left to me by a very important elder, no one can take it away for any reason."

"It's precisely because this is very important to you that you stepped into the trap." Catwoman's tone even carried a bit of "hate that iron doesn't become steel," she said, "The children and elders closest to you became the two deepest knives inserted into your heart. When you know this fact, what will you think? What about them?"

"Stop escaping, Batman, you know this matter is not right." Catwoman took two steps forward, holding up the book in her hand, and said, "Think about when your mental state started to deteriorate continuously, why have you tried every possible way but couldn't reverse this situation?"

"Answer me, Batman, what is the weakness that can truly be exploited in you?!"

"Enough."

"It really is enough, if you still can't wake up like this, then I have no interest in talking nonsense with a fool like you. Goodbye."

Catwoman threw the book into the air suddenly, Batman's gaze instantly attracted. At this very moment, Catwoman's whip swung out suddenly, wrapping around a nearby tree branch, her body swinging over as lightly as a cat.

Batman reacted quickly, the grappling hook shooting out, following closely behind. However, Catwoman's movements were even faster than he had expected.

"Goodbye, stupid Bat." Her voice dissipated in the rain, then she turned and leaped into the darkness.

Batman stood in place, rain wetting his cape. He looked down at the grappling hook in his hand, then pressed the communicator by his ear.

"Batgirl, help me track Catwoman's location. She took away something very important."

"Understood, Batman." Batgirl's voice came from the earpiece, "But are you sure you want to pursue this to the end? After all, there seems to be more important things to do now."

Batman was silent for a moment, his gaze looking toward the direction Catwoman disappeared, "She brought important news. It's not that I don't believe her, I just need time to verify it. Before that, I won't act rashly."

"The Clown seems to intend to delay to the end." Batgirl's voice didn't carry much anxiety, clearly she didn't sympathize much with that group of rich people. Just out of a sense of responsibility, she still said, "Considering the Clown's theatrical personality, I just screened Cat Getan's public buildings, there aren't many buildings that meet his requirements, there are several highly suspicious targets."

"Which one is the most likely?"

"Arkham Asylum."

The Batmobile didn't drive toward Arkham Asylum, but turned a corner and came to the Lower District. When a pitch-black figure appeared in front of the clinic window, Dr. Thompkins was startled.

"Why are you here, Batman?"

"I have some things I want to ask you, Doctor, regarding my illness."

The shock this topic gave Dr. Thompkins was clearly even greater than Batman's arrival. The doctor hesitated for a long time, then said relatively tactfully: "I don't mean to boss you around, Batman, if you could rest a little, then I would try my best not to use the word 'illness' to describe your recent state."

"No, Doctor. I am exactly wanting to hear it. If I use illness to describe my state, then what kind am I?"

Dr. Thompkins struggled slightly, then said: "Considering your father's condition, I am more inclined to think you have hereditary bipolar disorder. Its symptoms are probably..."

"Is it possible it's not hereditary?"

"What?"

"Is it possible it's influenced by external forces?"

"Are you talking about poisoning or something? Forgive my bluntness, I'm afraid that's not very likely."

"Then what about magic?"

"Magic? You don't look like someone who would believe in these things..." Just as Dr. Thompkins said this, she remembered the encounter when she accompanied Alfred to that pharmacy.

"Perhaps it's possible." Dr. Thompkins thought for a while and then said very seriously, "Although everyone has the right to get sick, according to everyone's different personality, the probability of developing a certain mental illness is also different. And you and your father happen not to be the type who easily gets depression."

"Can you elaborate?"

Dr. Thompkins shook her head and said: "You can take it as a doctor's intuition, I always feel you shouldn't be like this. But if you want me to produce any evidence, of course there isn't any, because you never see a psychiatrist."

These words gave Batman some inspiration. After walking out of the clinic, he dialed the Pale Knight's phone.

"What are Batmen from other universes like?"

"If you are trying to plead for this damn street racer, then come and take this beating for him!" The Pale Knight's tone was very unkind. Batman was stunned.

"Are other Batmen like this too?" Batman heard the hesitation in his own tone. If so, then it really didn't look like someone who would get depression, more like the type who would make their parents get depression.

"You two are both atypical cases." The Pale Knight was clearly doing something, sounding somewhat out of breath, "Other Batmen are all megalomaniacs, the type who would suspect the laws of the universe were wrong but wouldn't suspect themselves."

Batman was stunned again.

"Yes, they don't say it, but they are just this type of person." The Pale Knight's tone was very firm, he said, "Thank goodness we two were born in the same world, otherwise I would have to deal with that bunch of mental patients."

After speaking, the Pale Knight hung up the phone, leaving Batman alone in the car for a long time without speaking.

Batman could probably imagine what other Batmen were like. It was just that the negative emotions in his heart were churning uncontrollably again, making his thinking begin to gradually dissipate.

He subconsciously reached for his belt; every time he touched the pattern on that special Batarang, he always felt very at ease.

But this time, for some reason, he forcibly stopped his action, preferring to grip the steering wheel with his hands rather than touch his Batarang again. Some shadows of doubt were still climbing onto the surface of his heart.

On the other side, Bruce, who had been punched twice by the Pale Knight, retreated to the edge of the overpass, swaying. He wiped the blood from the corner of his lips and said: "I don't have time to fight with you here, I still have important business to do."

"Your important business is street racing in Cat Getan, making traffic a mess, and injuring two policemen?!"

"Why don't you ask why the police are chasing me?"

The Pale Knight stared at him fixedly, but Bruce grinned and took a document out of his bosom, shaking it, and said: "Tax data of the Odin Medical Equipment Manufacturing Company—do you know what will happen next?"

Just as the Pale Knight was about to say something, he heard a roar above his head, the propeller wind blowing so hard he could barely stand steady.

He looked up and saw a black helicopter slowly descending beneath the sky full of dark clouds. The black fuselage was printed with a white scale pattern, and below the pattern was a line of English letters—"Internal Revenue Service".

In the office of Arkham Asylum, Clown Maria stood opposite the desk, looking somewhat stiffly at Shiler who had put down the phone:

"So your method of dealing with them is auditing taxes?"

Shiler stood up, straightened his suit collar, and said: "Otherwise what did you think it was? Like a butcher killing everyone, and then being charged with murder and going to jail?"

"That's the way you lunatics play here; I am a law-abiding citizen, but I want to strive to be a hero of tax auditing."

Shiler turned around and smiled slowly, saying: "The only things in life that cannot be avoided are death and taxes; how is this not the most exciting Death Pool?"

"Prepare to open the market, let everyone in Cat Getan see if these elites are as lawless and fearless as they appear."

?? IRS is ridiculously strong, has its own army and it's very powerful, but if any golden-haired guy is accused of tax evasion, he's long gone.

? (End of chapter)