From Gotham to Night City, my infamy is known to all.

How did it just vanish into thin air?

No, that's not right. What we need to be more wary of is the mysterious man's act of getting into the driver's seat.

As Batman's most trusted confidant, Alfred had most of the authority over the Batmobile and locked the vehicle almost without a second thought.

The clicking sound echoed incessantly in the enclosed carriage.

A red "Locked" icon appeared on the monitor.

Leo watched him operate the machine with a smile, not in a hurry at all.

Batman's technology is indeed very advanced, but the timeline here is 2010, which is far behind 2077 in terms of technological level.

"Ah Fu, honestly, why are you two so stingy? I've never driven such a luxurious car before. What's wrong with letting me drive it once? Gotham's richest man isn't short of money on gas."

Now that Batman is away, he has nothing to worry about and is taking the opportunity to have some fun.

"It's time to show off the real skills—"

Leo extended his left hand, back of his hand facing up, to cover the human-machine interface on his wrist.

He took out a data conversion connector that he had prepared in advance from his space with his right hand. He had searched for this thing on the Night City network for a long time.

The adapter showed slight signs of use; after all, it was an old relic from years ago. Fortunately, it still worked properly, as he had tested it beforehand.

After assembling his personal data cable and adapter, he followed the instructions in the white box and plugged it into the same type of connector on the Batmobile.

[Pure white, horrifying entry!]

Give me... 15 seconds to enable the basic functions so you can drive and get somewhere.

Under Alfred's dumbfounded gaze, Leo blacked out the Batmobile in a few breaths.

The icon on the monitor changes: Locked → Unlock.

"Hahahaha!"

Leo slapped his thigh and laughed wildly.

"How about it, Afu? My hacking skills aren't bad, are they!"

What exactly are you trying to do?! I'm warning you, Batman...

As an elderly man, Alfred clutched his chest, feeling his heart race, which made him nervous.

The Batmobile is loaded with weapons; if it were used for a terrorist attack, the consequences would be unimaginable.

That's the symbol of Batman...

"Don't be nervous, Alfred. I'm a good businessman. I just want to do business honestly and legally. I just want to see the Joker. We have some 'history' that needs to be settled. By the way, maybe I can help Batman out. He's not safe on his own."

Before Afu could answer, he honked the horn a few times, startling the onlookers.

"Didn't Batman leave? How come this car is still moving?"

"Autopilot, you idiot. But I just saw what looked like another person inside. Does Batman have teammates too?"

"I got a picture of him! You... uh..."

"Did you take this with a landline? What kind of rubbish is this? The face is completely blurry; all you can see is that she's wearing a silver suit."

Seeing that the crowd not only did not disperse but also showed signs of gathering, Leo narrowed his eyes and blasted the horn all the way down.

Didi————

The piercing sound, comparable to an air raid siren, startled passersby, causing them to back away.

He lightly pressed the accelerator, crashed through the guardrail, and drove onto the sidewalk.

【Pure White, are you sure your navigation route is correct?】

[Confirmed, this is the optimal route. As long as we're careful not to hit pedestrians, we can bypass traffic jams and get to the Illinois Center building as quickly as possible.]

Okay, it's Batman's car anyway...

Leo chuckled, smashed through the trash can and the obstructing lamppost, and sped away amidst the gasps of the crowd.

As everyone knows, Gotham City is within the Wayne Manor complex, so if he damages some infrastructure, Mr. Bruce Wayne will naturally have to pay for it!

In that case——

Why so serious？

"Hahaha! Batman, don't be afraid, I'm coming to save you!"

Anonymous: Chapter Seventy-One Gotham Citizens: "Batman has finally gone mad!"

The night is foggy.

The last rays of the setting sun disappeared into the clouds.

Gotham City, which should have been asleep, burst into flames like an exploding oil tanker.

Criminals who used to get itchy if they didn't cause trouble every day became the accompaniment, while the real lead singer was the Batmobile that ran seven red lights on the sidewalk and even used a vehicle-mounted grenade launcher to blow up a makeshift roadblock into the sky.

"Batman has finally gone mad!"

Those who were fortunate enough to witness this scene, including the criminals, expressed such sentiments.

"Aaaaah—wasn't he supposed to never kill people!?"

An unfortunate man who was laying roadblocks with old tires was hit in the face by gravel, and when he touched his face, it was covered in blood.

His companion gloated and teased, "You're not dead yet, are you? Otherwise, I'd shoot you and say Batman killed you tomorrow!"

F**K YOU!

A few of the clowns' temporary henchmen were making a ruckus when two motorcycles sped past, chasing after the Batmobile.

Each motorcycle carried two people: a driver in front and a paparazzi reporter holding a camera behind!

"Front page headline! Front page headline!!"

They were shouting incoherent ravings as they chased after the recklessly crashing Batmobile.

Batman finally snapped: "I'm warning you! Stop the car right now! Otherwise, after I deal with the Joker, you'll be next!"

Leo chewed his gum, looking nonchalant. "Don't get so worked up. What if I get distracted while driving and hit someone? Everyone'll say it was you tomorrow, which wouldn't be good. I just wanted to join in the fun. If I get the chance... I'll give the clown a couple of punches and see if he can still laugh!"

"No need! You—"

Before Batman could say anything, Alfred suddenly joined the chat: "It's bad, sir! The Joker has arrived! He's brought several henchmen with him, all armed!"

Batman paused, then said, "Try to stall for time, I'll be right there!"

After they finished speaking, both of them fell silent. Leo suspected that they had entered an encrypted channel and were not including him.

It doesn't matter; he didn't care anyway.

Not only that, he also eased off the accelerator a little and reduced the speed.

His plan was to wait until Batman was in freefall, then go up and help him up. This would show his friendliness and allow him to flex his muscles by performing magic tricks and hacking into the Batmobile—a win-win situation.

As for the Joker and his henchmen, that's Batman's job.

Why not give him a single penny and let him fight them to the death?

Don't be ridiculous, only an idiot would do that job!

*

Illinois Center Building.

The fundraising gala, which was gaining momentum, came to a standstill.

A group of unwelcome thugs broke in, ruining the good mood of the upper class. In response, they lodged a strong protest—showing their indomitable spirit with a frenzied French gesture!

This tactic worked remarkably well; at least those hideous thugs didn't fire their guns immediately, using bullets worth less than a dollar to eliminate upper-class elites worth at least a million dollars.

The leader of the thugs was a clown—wearing a purple suit and sporting a horribly disfigured clown makeup!

Many of the people present had seen his picture in the newspapers and were very wary of this madman among madmen.

As the organizer of the fundraising gala, Alfred was undoubtedly the person of the highest status, especially given Bruce Wayne's departure midway through the event.

The elderly man with a full head of white hair displayed amazing courage as he walked towards the thugs.

"I don't think you received an invitation?"

He knew it was stupid to say that, but at this point he had to buy time, even if it was just a few seconds.

The young master is on his way; once he arrives, everything will be taken care of.

The clown's gaze lingered on his face for a moment, then his lips curled into a wild grin again: "Hahaha! I love jokes!"

He strode forward, used the long barrel of his shotgun instead of his hand, and tapped the old man's shoulder twice.

"In fact, I certainly have an invitation, it's right in front of you!"

He gripped the gun handle tightly, the cold muzzle pressed against his cheek, a mad smile flashing in his eyes.

Just as Alfred was about to reply, he moved the gun away and fired without warning.

boom--!

A loud bang ripped through the air, and the bullet grazed his own cheek as it flew high into the sky.

The dazzling crystal chandelier shattered with a crash, sending shards of glass flying like rain, startling the impeccably dressed guests into screaming.

The originally warm and gentle light was shrouded in an ominous darkness, and the composure that the upper class had been putting on vanished.

"Ow..."

The clown covered his ears and shook his head.

"Maybe next time I should hold the gun further away."

He complained for a moment, then suddenly chuckled: "However, the suddenness and lack of warning are the foundation of a surprise. Now that we've had the surprise, it's time for some joy."

The clown stepped forward, put his arm around Alfred's shoulder, forced him to turn 120 degrees, and pushed him hard with both hands.

The white-haired old man was pushed so hard that he stumbled and crashed into the crowd.

"I don't kill people who tell jokes. This world is boring enough already, hahaha!"

He laughed wildly as he walked to the dining table, picked up a bunch of grapes, and leisurely put them in his mouth.

Unsteady, he walked towards the crowd with an air of indifference.

As he and his men approached, the crowd seemed to be pushed backward by an invisible force, becoming a dense, jostling mass.

The clown's eyes swept quickly across the crowd, but he couldn't find his target.

Like a Parkinson's patient, he shook the barrel of his gun and shouted, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We are your entertainment guests for the evening, and we have a special performance for you."

The ladies and gentlemen huddled together, shivering like quails. The clown's henchmen, however, were quite obliging, laughing a few times and helping their boss maintain order.

The Joker strolled slowly in front of the crowd, his eyes, hidden behind smoky eyeshadow, gleaming with a malicious glint: "I have only one question—where is Harvey Dent?"

A commotion arose in the crowd, and many people looked around blankly, seemingly genuinely wanting to help him find Harvey in exchange for their own safety.

However, if even the clown couldn't find someone, they naturally couldn't find them either.

Harvey Dent, the special guest of the dinner, was not in the hall, nor was his girlfriend.

A middle-aged man in a suit raised an arm tremblingly and pointed towards the balcony: "He...they just left, they might be on the balcony."

He was willing to become an "informant" in order to protect his own safety.

But instead of looking down on him, the people around him cast grateful glances at him: they were all wealthy people, and they had one thing in common, which was that they valued their lives.

If the Joker were looking for Bruce Wayne, they might not dare to inform on him.

But Harvey Dent...who is that?

I'm so unfamiliar!

Sacrificing him for everyone's safety is totally worth it!

With a bloodthirsty smile on his face, the clown left half of his men to maintain order while leading the other half toward the balcony area.

"Thank you so much. I'm only looking for him; I'll leave as soon as I find him."

Anonymous: Chapter Seventy-Two: Newton: Batman is dead! Batman: Newton is dead!