Capítulo 18: An old acquaintance
What could be better than waking up in the arms of a beautiful girl? Probably the fact that the girl is able to block pain with her powers, creating a cocoon of healing leaves.
It had been a week since the events at the asylum, but it was only today that the island had finally regained its original gloomy beauty. Although Pamela's efforts made it a little more welcoming because of the vegetation, which no longer resembled the abnormal plants from the game Stalker. The long delay was due to the fact that the titanium that had poisoned the soil was very hard to remove, and until it was neutralized with an antidote, Poison Ivy couldn't use her powers. She had originally planned to turn the available space into a blooming garden, but the head of the hospital, at Sharp's request, had rejected the idea for safety reasons. But the girl was able to go wild in the greenhouse, creating a self-sustaining ecosystem without animals and, to a certain extent, tolerant of human interference.
I hardly ever left the library these days, studying the law and thinking about my future defense in court. Sometimes I had to take breaks to talk to Dr. Arkham and to have fun with Ivy, who was already interested in taking our relationship to the next level, but I decided that Harley would be the first. There was a certain symbolism to it, and my lovely assistant should like the idea. Hmm, and after all we can put them at the same time, the girls will not mind it, and the blonde will be absolutely happy. My stamina will allow me to cope with more than that.
I didn't forget about training, devoting at least an hour of time every day to isometric exercises, but there was no progress yet, nor the necessary points for pumping... The whole thing is that the quest with the release continues to be considered unfinished.
[Battle for Arkham quest updated: Disarm Patients 309/318. Reward: 31 free points.
Additional task: rescue employees 56/56(65). Reward: 10 free points]
When control over the island returned to the city's hands, the additional task of rescuing the staff was automatically counted, but there was a problem with the patients. Some lunatics turned out to be smart and took off from the territory of the hospital in an unknown direction. The saddest part was that not only the common bandits (though they could be considered real geniuses compared to the other idiots) escaped, but also one supervillain I had already encountered: Scarecrow. Hell, I hope Bats catches them himself as soon as possible, because I can't do it yet, and Dr. Crane can do a lot of damage with his fear toxin.
Eh, already tomorrow they are releasing Ivy, who has proven herself to be adequate. The girl is lucky enough to be a strong metahuman with creative abilities. This, as well as the patronage of Wayne Enterprises, or rather its subsidiary Wayne Biotech, which offered the dryad a job in her specialty, will help her soon become a full-fledged member of society. Bruce kept his word and really provided support, without his patronage Ivy would be much more difficult to leave the hospitable walls of Arkham. And the welcoming walls were not sarcasm. Jeremiah's made us a real boarding house. If it weren't for the daily therapies and debriefings, you'd forget it was an asylum. Even our movements were now limited to the island, not just the east wing of the mansion, but I wasn't interested in wandering aimlessly, and I only occasionally joined Ivy when she grew a garden in the greenhouse. It was interesting to watch the dryad at such moments, she was working real magic with her powers and, like an artist, creating unimaginable and at the same time attractive pictures by growing plants.
People's attitudes also changed, and what can I say, if the first sanitary worker I rescued came up and thanked me separately afterwards - it was very pleasant. The controversy about my changed behavior has not subsided until now, and after such a large-scale event, it became even more heated. Naturally, there were many more skeptics, but now there were people supporting me. Thanks to the good attitude, as well as the past bribery of some guards, it was possible to get a recording of my fight with the mutated bandit from the mansion's cameras. This detail also influenced public opinion for the better for me.
All good things come to an end, so Ivy was officially checked out. She had drained me completely beforehand, giving me a marathon of the sixty-nine pose; the girl was a real pro at it, not inferior to Harley's skills. After she left it was a bit sad, but I was able to distract myself by finally immersing myself in my books. In addition, I closed the quest and received points, but the initiation of the source of magic was difficult: the system needed a powerful source through which she could activate my abilities, but the problem was that this source was the dryad.... I had been without it for so long, I could live without it for a while.
Another week passed almost unnoticed. Someone had neutralized two escaped patients, judging by the notification from the System, but Crane was still at large, maybe I'd take care of him later... I guess. I was being discharged from the hospital and declared sane right now, but my journey ahead was not a happy one.
"Now, Mr. Arkham," the head of the hospital said calmly as he signed the necessary documents, "you do realize that after this you will be placed under arrest and transported to the police department's detention center, don't you?
The actions of the body's past owner had caught up with me, but I was ready for it. The Joker is a real phyho and has put a lot of people down, even though many of his victims were from criminal backgrounds themselves, but murder is murder. Plus there are a lot of civilians who have suffered because of the large scale actions.
"Yes, I realize that."
The doctor looked at me doubtfully.
"It's not exactly by the rule, but I can buy you some more time. You are experiencing bouts of uncontrollable laughter that are caused by pseudobulbar affect."
"No, thank you. I'm fully aware of my actions."
"Ah, well... Come in, Commissioner!"
With the last word the door to the office opened and a joyous James Gordon, accompanied by two policemen, ran in.
"Finally! I've got the Joker! Now you'll never get away with it!"
"Commissioner?"
With just one word, spoken with perfect intonation, Jeremiah was able to cool the red-haired man's ardor a little.
"Mmm... Ahem..." Gordon faltered, but then he came over and cuffed my hands. "Mr. Arkham," the man's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. Do you understand each of these rights I have explained to you?"
"Yes, I do. Couldn't you have done without it?"
I shook my shackled hands.
"Arrest procedures, now don't fight back."
I was roughly lifted up and led to the exit. The handcuffs were unpleasant, but they only added an extra touch to my plan. All along our route we met the staff of the hospital: orderlies, nurses, technicians, guards, some doctors. All of them looked disapprovingly at our procession. Oh, there's Charlie with his video camera on the second tier; I asked him to organize the filming for a reason.
As we approached the door of the mansion, it suddenly opened and a bald man with Asian facial features, a thick black beard and round bicycle glasses on his nose ran inside. He had an anticipatory smile shining on his face that looked very creepy.... Or was it the presence of a syringe with a suspicious liquid in his hand?
"Where is he? I heard he was being transferred somewhere else."
His eyes darted around the room until he came upon the police officers who had jumped aside and pulled me with them.
"Where are you taking my patient?!"
"Dr. Strange, calm down," said the head of the clinic, who had decided to escort us out. "Mr. Arkham is now considered mentally healthy, so we have no right to keep him here any longer."
"But... What about... My translation. I'm so much..."
The bald man looked devastated.
"Yes, your transfer, I'm very glad a professional like you decided to come back to this place. The conditions here are a bit worse than Blackgate, but it's a friendlier team."
"But..." the realization of something important flashed across his gaze. "Shit!" Hugo Strange spat and strode forward, scaring everyone around him with his appearance.
Hmm, I never would have guessed Jeremiah and Hugo had a beef, but the head of the hospital's laughing eyes gave him away.
"Let's go."
I was given a gentle push toward the exit.
"Just a second. Doctor, thank you so much for your hospitality."
"You're welcome. I hope you won't be imprisoned after all and can visit me, your case is rather curious after all."
"I will."
Soon we reached the armored car standing at the gate of the hospital, where I was loaded with the commissar and the escort.
"Go," Gordon shouted and pounded on the partition.
The engine roared to life, and we set off, escorted by two police cars. Compared to my last trip, the police had clearly slacked off.
"I don't know how you fooled the head of the clinic, but you can't fool me," the red-haired man glared at me.
"Commissioner, we've been through this before. I'm really cured and sane now. You think Bats was wrong to keep me in custody? And at the end of the day, why are you so attached to me? You're acting like a crazy psychopath.
"Am I a crazy psychopath?! My daughter! My own daughter thinks you're innocent!!!"
Wow, on the one hand this sort of thing is expected, but it's still good to know.
"Hmm. So she's pretty smart and analytical."
The man wiggled his mustache unhappily. He still didn't believe me, but he couldn't think of a decent answer now, because you can't call your daughter a naive fool, can you?
The car slowed down.
"Strange," James tensed, "we haven't reached the station yet. Hey, what's the matter? - He asked, pushing aside the partition that led to the driver's cab."
"The facade of a dilapidated building has collapsed, the road is blocked, we have to detour."
"Don't you dare! Follow the route! This is obviously some kind of devious plan," the commissioner turned to me. "Huh, you thought you could escape by ambushing us? I can smell a setup a mile away."
"All right, sir, there is a small passage on the left: the car will squeeze through," the driver replied, and then our vehicle started slowly.
Still, socializing with this person is quite tedious.
"What was the point of my organizing all this if it was so much easier to get out of Arkham? You must know I had minimal supervision. I could have asked Ivy, and we would have escaped successfully. Besides, this whole situation worries me too."
I listened carefully to my surroundings, the rustle of the wheels on the pavement had a calming effect.
"What the hell?!" exclaimed the driver.
Realizing that we had just walked into an ambush designed to take advantage of Gordon's stubbornness, I rushed forward and threw my companions to the floor.
~Bam! Screeeeeeeee!~
The huge jaws of the excavator crushed the top of the body and threw it aside. There were sounds of gunfire outside, and the man's chest radio began to burst with the shouts of police officers requesting backup.
"Joker, what the hell?!"
The commissioner rolled back and pointed his service pistol at me.
"It's got nothing to do with me. You're annoying!"
~Bam~
Someone's accurate shot pierced James's arm.
"Shit."
He dropped the weapon, clutching at the injured limb.
Several bandits in full gear jumped down from above and pointed their guns at us. Shit, there were too many of them, and they were too close, and there were several armed men covering the criminals from above.
"Ha-ha-ha. Well, what the fuck do you want?" I stood up without making any sudden movements.
"Heh!" one of the attackers tried to hit me with the butt of his gun, but I ducked and kicked him in the balls, making him scream in pain and stretch out on the floor.
The others merely raised their weapons, ready to fire.
"One more stunt like that and you'll have a lot of holes in your body that nature didn't intend. Face the wall, feet shoulder-width apart, and don't move," ordered the armed thug.
I had to obey. After I complied, my hands were immediately tied with a strong rope and a thick canvas bag was placed over my head.
"Let's go."
I was lifted abruptly to my feet and led out through the torn-out door.
"What about this one?"
There was a thud and a grunt, and I recognized Barbara's father as the one who'd been bugging me. Maybe I'm putting up with him for nothing.
"We'll take him with us. We can get a ransom, and he's good as a hostage. Huh, still he is the commissioner."
There were sounds of a struggle, but the man was quickly subdued.
Then they put us in a car and took us to an unknown destination. Well, unknown. Still, my brains were not badly pumped and I could tell from the turns that we were being taken to the docks in the Old Gotham.
"Where are you taking me?" spoke up my neighbor in distress.
"Shut up or I'll blow your stupid head off."
"Okay, okay."
All the while I was trying to cut the rope with my fingernails, but I was getting lousy at it, although I was making progress.
After an hour, the car stopped and we were led somewhere. I could hear the sound of water crashing against the breakwaters, confirming my guess about our approximate route. We were led into a large room, judging by the echo of footsteps. When we stopped there was a muffled voice.
"Well, why the hell did you bring two of them? I told you we needed the Joker. Or whatever he's calling himself now."
"Mr. Scarecrow, sir. This is the police commissioner, I thought he'd be good as a hostage."
"Then we could bandage him up, if he's so valuable, he's staggering from blood loss... Well, lock him up somewhere and I'll go talk to an old acquaintance of mine."
The bag was ripped off my head and I saw the missing Jonathan Crane in his villainous role.
"Ha-ha-ha. Why did you kidnap me? If you'd just sit tight, Bats would have forgotten all about you."
"You're as cheerful as ever, you're not even normal anymore. You got your certificate."
Scarecrow was sitting in a comfortable chair, looking at the contents of the syringes on his gloves.
"Yeah, and was planning on becoming a full member of society soon, if someone hadn't kidnapped me for some unknown purpose..."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha," the man laughed a shrill laugh that even the mask could not drown out, "you're normal too? Heh-heh-heh-heh. That's a good one. Jay, have you seen your face in the mirror? You look like a maniac."
"Very funny. So why'd you set all this up?"
I needed the information to plan my next steps, but I was not at all prepared for the following events.
"Naturally, because of you. Guys."
I was immediately chained to a nearby chair.
"My men managed to get some footage from the hospital's cameras."
The villain stood up and walked leisurely over to me.
"I'd always thought my toxin was pretty good, but strangely enough, someone managed to completely ignore the effects. And that someone had also injured my arm."
My head exploded with a flash of pain, following a sharp uppercut from Scarecrow.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha!"
The pain immediately receded, but the man continued to deliver blow after blow until he was tired.
"Whew, I think it's gone," the supervillain adjusted his clothes. "So, Jay, I've decided to develop the perfect Fear Toxin, but to do that, I need to know what blocks it."
"So you want my blood?"
"Nope," he shuffled his foot, clearly working the audience. "I'd prefer more realistic terms."
"What?"
All four syringes on his arm instantly plunged into my body and injected their contents.
I felt terribly weak and dizzy, and despite the still-active smoothing of the emotional peak, I didn't even feel the new blood syringe sticking into me. My throat was dry, and the sounds drew nearer and farther away. My vision started to fail. I no longer felt as I was carried with the chair into a small room and the door was locked from the outside. The memories of the interworld were of little help, but only in keeping me from falling into a true nightmare.
***
"Shit, shit, shit."
Commissioner Gordon kicked the locked door in anger. An already disgusting day just got worse. Although, to be fair, it had been pretty much the whole month. It had started with his daughter's strange behavior. They'd had a somewhat strained relationship before because of their infrequent communication, but Barbara still chose to live with him rather than her mother.
They used to have quite a lot of evening get-togethers over a cup of tea if he wasn't on duty, but now the girl preferred to lock herself in her room. Then the Joker's arrest had happened, and everything had gone completely wrong. The fool had somehow assumed that the maniac had really reformed, no matter how hard he tried to convince her otherwise in the rare moments of socializing. She even organized a forum to promote her idea. When he found out about it, he yelled for the first time. After that, his daughter was missing for twenty-four hours, but still returned safe and sound. Since then, it's been like a black cat between them. But is it his fault?! It's the fucking Joker! If it wasn't for that bastard, his daughter would be normal.
I wish she'd just keep on being a Batman fan! That's a real classy man. A real Hero with a capital "H". The protector of Gotham. Not that pale moth!
"He'd gotten the fucking certificate," James slammed his fist into the wall and grimaced at the sharp pain in his shot limb. "Yeah, right... As soon as he realized that no one was going to coddle him, he immediately hooked up his escape buddy."
The commissar went to the washbasin in the room and began to reapply the bandage. He walked over to the washbasin in the room and began to reapply the bandage.
The deadbolt rattled and a chair with the Joker tied to it was dragged into the room. Looking closely, the rad-head man noted that the clown didn't look very good: large bruises all over his face, a split cheek, a swollen eye. The body of the city's main maniac was shaking. It seemed that only the presence of chains kept him in place.
"What's the matter with him?" asked the prisoner. He backed away from the wall so as not to provoke the thugs. He had a strained relationship with his daughter, but better a live dad than a dead one, and Gotham would be a crime-ridden city without a good commissioner.
"Serves as a laboratory rat for the boss."
The bandits quickly left the room and locked the door behind them.
James Gordon gingerly approached the chained clown, who occasionally chuckled softly.
"Hey, you okay?"
The man in front of him was clearly very fucked up.
"Did you have a disagreement with a business partner?"
The Joker's pupil darted around in his eye socket, never faltering for a second.
"Shit," The Commissioner recoiled because blood suddenly spurted from the corners of Gotham's chief criminal's eyes.
"This is definitely not good. Hey!" Gordon pounded on the door with his big hand. "Joker's gonna die in here."
"Fuck it. Boss already took a blood test. Besides, he's Jay Arkham now, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
The laughter began to drift away from the door.
"Was my daughter right after all?"
The commissioner's mind reeled.
"No, this is all some kind of trick.... But on the other hand, that bastard should rot in prison for his crimes, death would be too easy a fate for him–"
At this point, the beaten man scrambled in his chains, practically wrenching his joints from the pain.
"–or not easy?"
Gordon ripped off a piece of his shirt to make a cold compress.
***
I came to my senses with a jerk. My whole body ached, but it wasn't the usual kind of pain: it was as if I'd been put through a meat grinder, reassembled, and then ground into mincemeat again. Even once in this world, I was a little relieved. The intrusive system window loomed before my eyes:
[The First Beginning (physical body) +2
The Third Beginning (astral body) +1
The Fourth Beginning (central core) +1
The Fifth Beginning (sensual spirit) +3]
That's a hell of an upgrade. I don't even know if my agony was worth it. No, I guess it wasn't. I was covered in blood that came out through the pores of my skin. I'd rather progress by doing quests and developing skills than by drugging myself with crap. I feel like I'm dead after all... My heart stopped once, but Gordon was able to pump me out. The fear toxin concentrate was designed not only to attack the mind, but also the physical manifestation. The system kept me from sinking into the abyss of terror, but it didn't help my physical body much. If I'd been a normal human, I would have died, but I was already beyond the human limit, and the commissioner's help was no small part of it.
"Ha-ha-ha."
"Oh, alive?"
My savior was lying on the bed with a bandage on his arm.
"Thanks to your efforts. Thank you."
"You're welcome..."
There was a long pause.
"So you've really changed?"
"Yeah, and was on his way to jail, but the Scarecrow decided to ruin it."
"Why do you laugh sometimes? It looks pretty creepy."
"Pseudobulbar affect, some kind of nervous tic, you could call it past-life reverberations."
Hmm, I wasn't even lying.
"I see. What are we going to do?"
"Well, there are two options: we sit here until Bats or Harley and Ivy get us out, and I'd bet on the latter, or we get out of here ourselves. In the meantime, we neutralize all the criminals."
"Not a bad idea, but you're restrained and I'm wounded."
The commissioner glanced down at his bandaged arm.
"Take the barrette out of my hair."
The man staggered to his feet, and it was evident that his wound had not been without consequences: blood loss and late dressing had taken their toll.
After getting a small hairpin, I was out in five minutes rubbing my wrists.
"So, the deadbolt is on the back side, so we'll just wait for our jailers or you can call for help by reporting me dead."
"I thought your plan was more, uh. Thoughtful."
The man leaned tiredly against the wall, sitting on the bed.
"They don't care about your death: you've already shared your blood."
"Well, what's the point of making great plans if we're trapped inside four walls? It's not like we're breaking down walls..."
"What's the matter with you?"
I walked over to one of the walls and examined it closely. The brickwork didn't look solid, so I had a good chance of breaking it down. How much was Batman kicking? A ton and a half? I'm sure I could do something like that.
"If this works out, be ready to bail."
I lie on the floor with my feet against the wall and push as hard as I can.
At first nothing happened, but then there was a low crackling sound that increased with each passing second. Skepticism had evaporated from Gordon's eyes, and now the man was ready to run away at the first opportunity.
~Crack~
The wall collapsed into the next room with a terrible rumble, and we rushed into the opening. I had to help the wounded man run, putting my shoulder to the side, but he saved my life. Our escape didn't go unnoticed, and in a couple of minutes the bandits were echoing throughout the building in search of us.
"We have to get weapons," said the commissar, as we climbed into the back room of the warehouse.
"If it's just for you, I don't want to kill anyone inadvertently."
A pair of very surprised eyes stared back at me.
"Are you serious right now?"
"Absolutely."
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Remember when I took you and the school kids hostage?"
"I bet you wish you could, but you sure as hell can't forget it. There was this little girl who dressed up in a Batman costume. What an idiot. Where do her parents look?" the commissioner shook his head disapprovingly.
"Mm... That's when I changed. I was hit on the head by a beam, hard enough to put me in a coma."
"I see. Jay," the man addressed me by my first name without sarcasm in his voice, "do you happen to remember where exactly you got hit, we could patent the technology and cure everyone in Arkham. I imagined a picture of Batman standing at the exit with a baseball bat and hitting all the criminals on the head, ha-ha-ha."
Still, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He's just recounted his daughter's idea almost verbatim.
"I don't think it's gonna work. I've been developing an identity crisis along with it–"
Traveling through the Darkness and losing some of my memories fits that definition.
"–after I woke up, I was practically a different person."
"Over here! I heard voices!" a stranger's scream sounded very close by.
How only the bastard managed to hear us, whispering almost at the edge of hearing?
"Shit, we gotta get outta here."
When we got out of the back room, we tried to escape again, but almost immediately we were overtaken by the Scarecrow's men and surrounded, guns drawn. I could have broken through the cordon on my own, but with the commissioner as a ballast, it was impossible.
"Well, well, well. What rude guests we have after all," the supervillain appeared from behind the minions. "We decided to leave without saying good-bye."
"You already got what you wanted," my voice interrupted the psycho's speech. I looked very colorful now: a swollen, bloody face, my orange hospital robe streaked with blood, my green hair dyed red at the roots.
"Not exactly. I've already tested your blood, but there's no way you could have survived. Your body temperature should have spiked to forty-three degrees, which is the clotting temperature of protein, plus the horrible hallucinations plaguing your mind, but you didn't even go gray. So the question that concerns me is how?"
"Ha-ha-ha. I have no idea."
"That means you're gonna have to do a lot more research. Guys."
Suddenly the lights in the room went out, but I was no longer there. I love the system, though, giving me great concentration after a very happy memory.
Flashes of gunfire lit up the space for brief moments as I shifted toward the abandoned commissioner. A thicker shadow obscured my view for a brief moment, and I was instantly lifted to the ceiling.
"Stay here," whispered the Dark Knight, moving me to the ceiling beam, then silently floated down.
My vision adapted a bit and I noticed the commissioner sitting next to me.
"Good thing I didn't argue with you about Ivy and Harley."
The man flinched when he heard my voice.
"I guess. Oh, after that, there's so many reports to fill out. And then shake down the employees, because some bastard leaked our itinerary," James grumbled unhappily.
"I thought I was being taken the standard way."
"Haha, no, of course, we use a new one every time, because such motorcades can be caught only at the entrance or exit. But we were caught in the middle of the road, and so smartly."
"Don't be upset," the sounds of fighting downstairs are starting to die down. "At least you'll have the Joker in your department. Isn't that your dream?"
"You'll say the same thing. I've already made sure you're not him, or you're just very good at pretending," the last phrase had the faintest hint of a smile.
"Oh, I recognize the old commissioner, you have to see a catch everywhere."
The lights came on, illuminating the real carnage. Bats clearly did not hold back, beating the criminals, but all of them were alive and even without serious injuries. Master, what more can I say.
Gotham's protector promptly brought us downstairs and informed us of the Scarecrow's disarming, whom he would take to Arkham Asylum right away, and we would be picked up by the arriving police, who would be here any minute.
The superhero drove the Batmobile up the street, and we heard the sounds of approaching sirens.
Eh, a cliché from American action movies: the villain has already been defeated by the hero, and then just then the valiant officers of the law appear to put the innocent in jail and reward the uninvolved.
"Get away from him!"
Gordon and I were sitting quietly on the stairs leading to the warehouse when two men jumped out of a police car and pointed their guns at me. This is what I was talking about.
"Luther, Jenkins, cut the crap. Mr. Arkham has nothing to do with this," the man pulled his staff back.
Joint adventures do bring you closer together, of course, instead of the commissioner I'd prefer his cute little daughter, but that's not a bad arrangement either. James Gordon is a pretty famous person with a lot of connections, so it's good to be friends with such a person.
"Sir?" the policemen looked at each other perplexed.
"What, sir? Let's go to the hospital for a checkup. You can see I've been shot, and Mr. Arkham's been hurt, too," said James, opening the door of the police car and activating his walkie-talkie.
Orders from the commissioner's side poured in nonstop, while I sat quietly in the backseat and admired the status of the quest:
[Battle for Arkham quest updated: Disarm Patients 317/318. Reward: 31 free points.
Additional task: rescue employees 56/56(65). Reward: 10 free points]
Still, one of the bastards managed to hide somewhere, but nothing, the Earth is round, so we'll meet someday.
At the hospital Gordon had his wound stitched up and given a normal dressing, luckily the bullet had gone straight through without hitting any arteries or large vessels. His blood levels will recover on their own in a month, you just need to eat more. I was fine, except for a soft tissue contusion on my face and a small cut that would heal on its own. At the hospital I was able to shower and change into clean clothes, for which I have the commissioner to thank, and I'm also grateful to him for allowing me to walk without handcuffs. I could get rid of them in a couple of seconds, but the status of a detainee is such an unpleasant thing, especially when all the restraints are interpreted not in your favor.
We reached Gotham's main police department in the late afternoon. The interior of the station resembled the prison block of Arkham Asylum. There was also an elevator to the lowest level, where there were special holding cells, which were transparent cubes. No, it was clearly the work of one designer, the solutions were very similar.
"Here's your place for the near future. The lawyer will be here tomorrow, but for now, make yourself comfortable."
James opened the cubicle door invitingly, and I stepped in quietly. The door closed, cutting off all foreign sounds.
I lay down on the hard couch, remembering the bed at the mansion; it was unpretentious, but it was much nicer to sleep on. It had been a very busy day, so I didn't notice how quickly I fell asleep, ignoring the familiar pain.
***
The huge cave is plunged into darkness and there is only one source of light, which is a huge monitor screen. Cheerful female laughter was coming from the speakers. Opposite the monitor sits a focused man typing on a touchscreen keyboard. In front of him there are many tabs with current news, part of the screen is reserved for charts with stocks of multibillion-dollar companies, but in the corner there is a small video player window with two half-naked girls having a pillow fight.
"I thought you were past that age, Master Bruce."
A real butler emerged from the darkness, carrying a tray of tea.
"But let me tell you, using a supercomputer to watch juicy video is not the most productive thing to do."
"Alfred, this is Poison Ivy and Harley."
"I see, Master Bruce. If you wish, I can call a courtesan and have her dressed like that.... Or two."
The man in the Batman costume turned around and looked at Alfred carefully, not even a shadow of a smile on his face, then turned back with a sigh.
"They're real. I couldn't leave them unsupervised. And it's just a pillow fight, nothing more."
" I understand that surveillance is necessary, but it's worth writing some kind of algorithm that tracks suspicious activity. Otherwise, Mr. Arkham will join them soon and it is unlikely that everything will be limited to pillow fighting."
The elderly man put a tray with a drink on a special stand.
"I'll think about it. Thanks for the tea, Alfred."
"Always at your service, Master Bruce."
The butler took a few steps backward and disappeared silently into the darkness of the cave.
Estado de energía semanal
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