I, V, Gotham Legend

Except for the absence of the voluminous cloak, the idol looked almost identical to the ghostly figure Valerie had glimpsed in her memory.

Valerie wanted to keep this to herself, but after thinking about it carefully, she felt there was no need to hide it from Batman.

"This thing may really exist, and my intuition tells me that it is dangerous." Valerie said to Batman. "Help me investigate it, you have a good brain."

"..." Batman looked up in surprise. This was the first time that Valerie sought his help so seriously.

He saw Valerie's serious look and was sure that this usually arrogant woman was not joking.

"I'll keep an eye on it," Batman promised.

"Hehe, I'll leave it all to you then." Valerie laughed again. "The cultist's phone card analysis has been sent to your butler. I also helped you kill the demon and did so much work for you. Do you have any thanks?"

As she spoke, Valerie rubbed her fingers together.

"I also agreed to help you investigate the statue." Batman also realized that he was likely to be made a fool, so he shouldn't pamper this guy too much.

"Hey, you've become stingy." Valerie rolled her eyes and waved to Batman. "See you later, I'm going home."

In the small map of vision, the claw has not moved for half an hour, and Valerie is anxious to check the situation.

Batman watched Valerie jump out of the courtyard wall swiftly, then looked up at the wooden carving on the flag, and then walked to the body of Black Flame Butler lying on the ground.

He squatted down, tore open the collar of the Black Flame Deacon with his hands, revealing his wheat-colored chest, then pulled out a needle from his waist and stabbed it into the Deacon's skin.

The slightly black plasma flowed into the syringe, revealing a faint emerald green luster under the moonlight.

Although it has not been tested yet, Batman already has a guess.

"Lazarus..."

……

Valerie rode Jack's motorcycle, following the signs on the small map, and sped through the streets of Gotham.

The climate has been getting warmer and warmer. Even in the middle of the night, the cold wind will not hurt your face.

Feeling the breeze brought by the motorcycle, Valerie squinted her eyes comfortably. She was in a rare good mood.

This good mood continued until her car stopped in front of a manhole cover.

Valerie looked around. There were no houses or buildings around, and the signal from her scanning vision was underground.

"Okay..." Valerie frowned, pinched her nose, and jumped into the sewer reluctantly.

The sewer was not as dark as she had imagined. The night lights were on, which was a very user-friendly design. Valerie followed the shore and slowly explored her way through the sewer.

Until she turned a corner and saw wet bloodstains on the floor, obviously someone had been there.

Valerie's scanning vision saw the signal, she walked to the pool of blood, squinted her eyes and squatted down.

The blood on the floor had not yet dried, the rice-grain-sized locator was buried in the blood plasma, and the smell of blood was hidden in the unique smell of the sewer.

The floor not far away was unnaturally splattered with soup dots. Valerie did not go near, she stood up helplessly.

It seems that this Claw is a tough guy. He tore open his own wound with his own hands, took out the locator, and jumped into the sewage to escape.

The Claws' profoundly modified physique made them almost immune to injury, but Valerie still doubted whether they were really afraid of infection.

In any case, the clue to the claw was broken, and Valerie didn't want to dirty her clothes now, so she had to go home.

Valerie ran back to the ground impatiently, picked up the motorcycle, and breathed in the air on the surface freely.

The cultists have been largely wiped out, and as of now have little to no connection to the Court of Owls.

In this way, why Claw kidnapped the boy in the slums becomes a mystery again.

I just hope that the little boy can understand the business card she left behind and remember to find her if he encounters danger.

Valerie drove her motorcycle towards her hometown in Gotham, which she hadn't returned to for a long time.

……

In front of a sewer estuary in Gotham, a tall figure struggled to climb onto the land from the ocean.

He fell to the ground, panting, and pulled off his owl-like mask, revealing his young face distorted by pain.

Claws have been trained since childhood to endure and get used to pain, but that doesn't mean they don't feel pain.

This claw had long forgotten who he was. He only remembered that he was the most important weapon of the court. During his long life, he was often thawed to eliminate annoying enemies for the court.

Just two months ago, he woke up from his sleep again, but this time no one came to give him a task as usual.

He struggled to survive in the collapsed white maze for more than a month. It was not that he did not have the ability to leave, but that he was not qualified to leave without orders.

Until that day, he groped his way to the exit of the maze, and on a wall, he learned about the demise of the Court of Owls.

The murderer wrote his name on the wall in a brazen manner, as if he was stepping on the court to hold up a monument.

Claw realized he was free, but he didn't know what to do.

The brain that had stopped working a long time ago restarted, and the claws explored the meaning of survival for their own rebirth.

For nearly a hundred years of his life, the court had occupied his entire life. But now that the court had been destroyed, perhaps avenging the court was what a qualified weapon should do.

Sharp Claw felt that the pain in his body was not so severe anymore. He stood up again and looked at the emotionless face in the sea.

"Shiva..." The sharp claws vibrated the almost rusty vocal cords, and he silently recited the name of his enemy.

NO30. Prosthetic transformation

Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, the cult incident happened a week ago.

The Gotham Police Department stepped up its efforts to crack down on the remnants of the cult. After confirming that the cult had been truly broken up, the government finally relaxed its restrictions on public opinion regarding the cult.

For a time, the streets and alleys of the city were filled with news about the evil and cruel cultists. The citizens were panicked for a while, but fortunately the cult had been wiped out.

The deeds of the cultists became the talk of the town, and even every bar counter in the Afterlife bar was talking about them.

But these have basically nothing to do with Valerie. At this moment, she is sitting in the cold underground laboratory of Gotham Hospital, huddled together nervously with Mr. Freeze.

There were five or six little white mice standing in the glass cover in front of them, shaking their furry little heads, and they had not yet woken up from the anesthesia.

Without exception, these mice are different from what ordinary people know. Their limbs have all been replaced with fine metal.

"Has it been thirty-six hours?" Valerie held a notebook and pursed her lips as she wrote down the notes, as seriously as if she were keeping accounts.

"The rejection reaction is weak." Victor, wearing armor, observed the analysis data of the mouse blood sample.

"Huh..." Valerie dropped her notebook and sat down on the chair with ease. "This is really a qualitative leap."

Mr. Freeze didn't say anything, but his fingers tapping the computer keyboard became noticeably more agile.

It's no wonder that the two were so happy. Solving the rejection reaction is equivalent to solving more than half of the problem, which means that the next step is to even try operating on a living person.

Mr. Freeze repeatedly stood on tiptoe and cheered like a child. He felt that the hope of curing his wife was just around the corner.

"Okay, next we can try the human body." Valerie jumped up again, took out a blueprint from her pocket and handed it to Victor.

Seeing that Valerie had no intention of resting, Mr. Freeze became full of energy. He turned his head and waited for Valerie to bring up the experimental subject.

Valerie ran to the dentist's operating table that had been built long ago, kneaded it here and there as if to make the final adjustments, and then lay down in the shocked eyes of Mr. Freeze.

"Are you..." Victor guessed what Valerie meant.

"Let's start with me." Valerie held her forearm in place.

"What are you doing? This is not a game. If the experiment fails, you could die." Victor's tone was very serious.

"I have plenty of ways to save my life, and I'm very strong." Valerie's face was full of confidence. "Don't worry, it's not a bone replacement, but some minor modifications to my original prosthesis. You just need to follow the steps on the blueprint."

"..." Mr. Freeze looked through the blueprints, his brows furrowed tighter the more he looked, "You are gambling with your life."

"It's not a bet. No one in this world knows prosthetics better than me." Valerie put away her smile and looked into Victor's eyes under his sunglasses with a very serious look. "Trust me... I will also guide you."

"Instruction?" Victor was even more surprised. "You don't plan to use anesthesia?"

"Why are you still watching after you've been given anesthesia? This is an important moment from nothing to something." Valerie smiled gently again.

Seeing that Valerie couldn't be persuaded at all, Victor finally compromised.

"I understand. I hope your drawings are reliable enough." Victor dragged the armor to the operating table. His modified armor could perform precise movements.

Victor first set up the camera to record the experimental process, and then his attention was attracted by a glass jar on the tool table next to the operating table. There was black liquid flowing in the jar: "What is this?"

"This is a gift from the aliens. I made this composite material by mixing the material of their armor with some materials from Earth. I think it is very suitable for transforming prosthetics."

Valerie looked like she was sharing.

“…” His curiosity satisfied, Victor put down the jar and officially started the machine on the operating table.

"Squeak..." The unique metal friction sound of a machine was heard, and a circular saw as big as a human face was lifted up from under the bed.

This was specially made by Valerie. If you hold it in your hand and identify it, you will find that it is an orange weapon - ordinary knives cannot cut through Valerie's hard subcutaneous armor.

Although Valerie had put aside her grandiose promise to watch the surgery in person, she couldn't help swallowing as she watched the flashing white light of the circular saw.

Seeing Valerie's nervous expression, Mr. Freeze couldn't help but feel a little worried: "If you're afraid of pain, you should take the medicine first."

“Afraid of pain? Ridiculous.” Valerie tried to put on a disdainful smile. “I’m the legendary mercenary, V, known to everyone in Gotham and even the whole world. It’s just a simple cut. I… Aaaaaah!”

Listening to Valerie's confident speech, Mr. Freeze had already started the chainsaw. The special prop instantly cut through Valerie's delicate skin, cutting through the subcutaneous armor like cutting plaster, and came into close contact with Valerie's bones.

Caught off guard, Valerie subconsciously cried out in pain, and her scream even echoed through the basement and reached the parking lot above.

From this day on, Gotham Hospital was once again haunted. Legend has it that the dead in the middle of the night would scream like pigs being slaughtered to demand people's souls.

However, although she screamed a few times because she was caught off guard, Valerie quickly endured it. Feeling the blade sawing her bones, she gritted her teeth and directed Victor's actions with sweat on her forehead.

Watching Valerie gritting her teeth and listening to her trembling voice, Victor couldn't help but express admiration from the bottom of his heart.

The operation lasted about two hours, and Mr. Freeze only made modifications to Valerie's two forearms.

After Victor finally pulled out the saw and the wound healed quickly under the effect of the medicine, Valerie finally lay back on the bed relaxed, the bed beneath her already soaked with cold sweat.

"You didn't faint. You're the most tenacious person I've ever seen." Perhaps wanting to give a compliment, Victor's tone became much softer.

"No..." Valerie's voice was weak and hollow, "I didn't manage to be calm while talking and laughing."

"Where does this standard come from..." Victor felt that Valerie might be confused because of a brain pain.

"Next time, let's play chess while performing the surgery." Valerie raised her hand and made a "yes" gesture with trembling hands.

"You should just recuperate. I suggest you get some sleep... The operation is over. If it still hurts, do you need some sedatives?" Victor became talkative out of concern for Valerie.

"No need... I can get used to it." Valerie relaxed and looked up at the frosted ceiling. "Leave me alone for a while... Is this operation recorded?"

"That's natural." Victor put away the camera that was recording nearby.

One of the purposes of this experiment is to collect experience and data in preparation for being able to perform surgery on myself in the future.

After all, Valerie is a girl now, so it’s better for her to do some things by herself.

NO31. Look what’s different about me

Jim Gordon opened the door of his office. As the director, it was a rare opportunity for him to have a break.

Gordon walked to the water dispenser in the office and got himself a glass of water.

Before he could finish his drink, the office door that he had just closed was knocked again.

"Come in," Gordon called, his back to the door.

The door was pushed open, and Cash, with a solemn look on his face, walked into the room carrying a bag of folders.

"Gordon, you should take a look at this. This is the latest clue about Bane's remnants." Cash said, shaking the document in his hand.

Gordon put the cup on the bucket of the water dispenser, took the document, and looked through it thoughtfully.

"It's still just empty talk. It's no different from the intelligence we currently have." After a while, Gordon threw the document on the desk beside him.

Two months ago, under the covert promotion of the Court of Owls, a horrific gang war broke out in Gotham, and Bane's mercenaries took the opportunity to seize a large piece of territory in Gotham.

They did not directly rule the gangs, but instead supported a large number of gangs of all sizes as puppets, with the real mercenary army hidden behind the scenes.

If it were just this, it would be fine. The Gotham Police Department is basically accustomed to fighting wits and courage with gangs. If the mercenaries are willing to play by Gotham's rules, the police department doesn't mind playing with them slowly. There are already enough gangs in Gotham anyway.

However, unlike their current low-key style of behavior, the mercenaries arrogantly spread the rumor that they were going to break into the prison.

It's not just talk. In the past month, there have been many criminal activities by Bain's remnants, and they are obviously accumulating strength for the prison break.

Gordon picked up the water glass again, walked back to his desk and sat down relaxedly.