Chapitre 19: Trial
"You think you can escape by breaking down a wall?"
My morning isometric exercises were interrupted by a tired voice on the speaker. James Gordon was standing behind the transparent door, staring at me with interest, pressing the intercom button. The chief of the local police department hadn't been lying when he said he had to fill out a lot of reports after the Scarecrow attack, or it was the blood loss. Either way, instead of resting, Barbara's father was clearly trying to change Gotham for the better.
"Huh, it's strength training to keep in shape. It's hard to find exercise equipment that gives enough load, sitting in four walls, so I do it this way."
I still hadn't given up trying to swing on my own, but it looked like I was doomed to failure. I'd already gotten enough upgrades by spending my free points, and the Scarecrow's Toxin had done its part, boosting my the First Biginning to fifty-five points. I feel that I won't be able to progress further without a trainer, but I need something to keep me busy, besides, doing monotonous actions doesn't really burden my brain, so at times like this I can think about my future actions.
James remembered the not-so-fragile wall I'd destroyed and shook his head respectfully.
"You have a meeting with your lawyer, so finish up."
The door slid aside.
There were a couple of cops standing behind Gordon, looking a little tense, and I could understand them, since I'd been taken without handcuffs. The elevator took us to the minus-second floor, according to the dashboard, and then I was led down a short corridor and left in a five-by-five meter room with three chairs and a table.
"Make yourself comfortable, he'll be here soon."
The commissioner went out, leaving two policemen at the entrance.
I sat down at the table and relaxed, resting my chin on my hands. I'd need a pair of round glasses and I could cosplay Gendo Ikari from Evangelion. Hmm, and I wouldn't mind having a pair of GHCRs*, even with a schoolboy, or better yet, a schoolgirl. Barbara would be perfect for the role, she's a little older, but she'd look good in a tight latex suit. My imagination conjured up a seductive image of the girl, but I was snapped out of my fantasy by a sudden rustle.
One of the cops grabbed his taser as I started smiling dreamily.
"Don't be nervous, boys."
Their reactions amused me a little, but I didn't want to get to the point of actually using weapons, or I'd have to explain why two lawmen were lying unconscious on the floor. Fortunately, the door opened and an older man, about sixty-five years old, stepped inside. His gray hair was slicked to the right side, his eyes scrutinized me through the glasses in weightless frames, he was dressed in an ordinary business suit without frills, and in his hand he held a black briefcase. He looked like an ordinary employee, though who else could have come to me as a government lawyer, provided free of charge. It was good that I had decided to defend myself on my own and had been studying the local laws hard lately.
"Leave us alone."
A dry male voice without a hint of senile rattling made the guards stir and stare at my protector with confusion.
"Sir?"
"My ward has a Sixth Amendment right to counsel. And here I am. You do realize I can't discuss any cases in front of strangers, right?"
"Are you sure?" the policemen were in no hurry to leave and looked at the man with distrust, as if doubting his adequacy.
"If you think I'm going senile, you are sorely mistaken. I am fully aware of my actions."
The old man turned out to be a fighter and managed to escort the honor guard out the door, leaving me alone.
"Well, Mr. Arkham, I hope you've actually become normal and won't try to kill me."
"Hmm, you just acted so confidently, refusing to be guarded, but what if I'm faking it? I'm not handcuffed, no cameras in the room."
"Everything happens in this world, so I took out a large life and health insurance policy before we met. Oh, you have no idea how hard that was. But in case of force majeure, the money should be enough not only for my children, but also for my grandchildren."
An elderly man was calmly spreading out various documents from an opened briefcase on the table, showing no signs of excitement.
"So, let me introduce myself, Alan Dershowitz."
He said, holding out his palm for a handshake.
I shook it gently, afraid of hurting him, but my vis-a-vis's grip was quite strong. He'd managed to interest me in a short time, so I decided to give him a chance and not to refuse his services right away.
"Jay Arkham."
"Mr. Arkham, let me tell you right off the bat, you're looking at at least ten to life. Although you could always run away to another state and end up in the electric chair."
Not a very encouraging start. Maybe I was wrong to give him a chance if he didn't see an elegant way out. He'll say some more shit to the judge and I'll have to clean up the mess.
"Then why did you choose to defend me?"
Nah, he can't be that dumb if he's studied my case even a little bit.
"How could you not!" Alan splashed his hands. "This is such a case! I've always wanted to be a devil's advocate. I had to pressure a couple of debtors to let me defend you. Besides, this case will raise the prestige of my office."
"You're not a government lawyer?" asked I, certain that they were usually younger and definitely didn't have their own offices.
"Usually I get paid money, but here I decided to do everything for free, so to speak out of love for art."
"Let's say. So how do you plan to proceed?"
"Let's start with the fact that I know what charges you'll be facing," the man took a couple of sheets out of a folder and handed them to me.
I quickly ran through the list with my eyes, there was everything from banal murder and torture, to organizing an ecological disaster. I already knew that, and I'd asked Harley about it, so I could add a couple more serious episodes to it.
"And how are you going to help me with that?"
"It's simple, deny all allegations made."
His words didn't surprise me, for I had planned to do the same. Maybe he wasn't hopeless after all. While I was pondering, the lawyer continued.
"While researching your situation, it has come to my attention that there is only written evidence and eyewitness testimony. No camera footage, not even fingerprints were found at the crime scenes."
I smiled and pronounced it:
"You can add a few touches to this. Do you have a smartphone? Can you borrow it for a while?"
The man handed me the device without question.
It was decided he would represent my interests in court after all. I switched to private mode and logged into my mail that Ivy had asked me to create at large. There were several videos lying there. The first video showed me giving a short interview to random passersby outside the police department and then voluntarily surrendering to the officers of the law, but instead of a neat grab, I was roughly pawed, handcuffed, and then taken to the station. The second video consisted of a mini-cut, here I am leaving the walls of the station, strapped to a cart and in a straitjacket, in the next frame I am taken out of the armored car. My face had clearly undergone some serious changes during the trip, turning into a swollen mess, and it was clearly not an allergic reaction. The third video showed my battle with the mutant in the central hall of the mansion, the footage showed that only thanks to my intervention, the monster did not manage to kill anyone. The fourth video did not show anything special, only my little promenade, when I left the walls of the hospital, again handcuffed, in the eyes of others clearly flashed pity directed at me.
"Amazing!" Dershowitz couldn't contain his joy. "With this, not only will we be able to break all the charges, but we'll also be able to get a nice compensation. My name will be legendary after this!"
"Aren't you afraid you'll put yourself and your family in danger by defending me? Not everyone will agree with me being defended so zealously in court."
"I'm afraid, but I've taken precautions."
"Well, if that's the case, let's discuss our next steps in more detail."
***
I returned to the cell in high spirits; Alan, despite my misgivings, turned out to be a real professional. Frankly speaking, I'd planned to use the options he'd suggested, but it was more convenient to have someone on the outside. Harley had offered her candidacy, but she was considered a criminal, so she wasn't suitable, and Ivy didn't know much about all this and might inadvertently leak even a win-win case, and no one would let a dryad act as my lawyer.
They brought me a late breakfast, which consisted of nasty porridge and pale pink water with a faintly sweet flavor that must have been compote. Damn, I'd been fed better at the hospital. After I finished my breakfast, I resumed my exercises.
The boring days of confinement dragged on, punctuated by conversations with Alan. My studies yielded results and brought me one more unit each in the First and Sixth Beginnings (solving equations in my mind had paid off). However, I had to give up on strength development after that when I noticed a thread of cracking appearing near the very floor of my indoor box. The conditions here were disgusting, but there was no hurry to transfer me to another place. Luckily, the D.A.'s election was coming up, and in an effort to boost his ratings, he'd sped up the whole process quite a bit, combining the indictment, the grand jury and the trial, hopefully so that we wouldn't get to the last point, though Alan Dershowitz wasn't happy about the rush, because he had to prepare the jury materials and find witnesses, but he'd done it.
Exactly three days later, I was already sitting on the bench waiting for the start of the hearing on my case and putting my thoughts in order. My lawyer was sitting nearby, concentrating on the documents. Naturally, by "nearby" I mean a normal place, not the dock, otherwise I would have been in big trouble.
The US criminal procedure of the DC world was clearly different from the Russian one of my home world, but I can't say for the worse or for the better, as I hadn't encountered it in the past world, but I was sure that we didn't have juries. While researching the necessary information, I highlighted a few points for myself.
The arrest, you could say it happened to me twice: the first time I was handcuffed outside the station and then held for an hour in an interrogation room in violation of all norms, and the second time I was taken out of Arkham Asylum. At this stage, the suspect is detained and his rights are read to him.
The next stage is the arraignment. At this stage, the suspect becomes the accused. One can agree or disagree, in the first case the judge immediately imposes the punishment, but in the second case, a long quest begins, which the current district attorney has shortened quite a lot, for which he is very grateful.
If the defendant disagrees with the charges, a grand jury of twenty-three jurors is empaneled to determine if there is sufficient evidence to warrant a trial. Then comes the trial itself, where the prosecution and defense appear and witnesses are called to testify. After the jury reaches a verdict, determining the guilt of the defendant, and based on their decision, the judge issues a sentence that includes various preventive measures and additional conditions, such as drug rehabilitation or payment of certain sums to the victims.
While I was thinking, the hall was slowly filling up. The number of reporters per square meter began to exceed any reasonable norms; there was no Sanitary Regulations on them. I sat quietly behind the bars, looking at the majestic room. The city courthouse, like most of Gotham's old buildings, breathed gloom and pathos. Why put stone gargoyles under the ceiling? Not only are they non-functional, but you can't even see them because of their location. Only my enhanced vision clearly distinguished the dark silhouettes, and a normal person will see only blurred gray spots at night and clearer spots during the day. The design is awesome! The rest of the building was more functional, though somewhat reminiscent of a Catholic church, those pews for parishioners... I mean visitors. Instead of an altar, a judge's table. Hmm, but it could be used as an altar, then the gloomy atmosphere becomes more logical. Shit, I've got a victim in me, too!
My thoughts had taken a wrong turn, and I tried to distract myself by looking at the people in the room. There were at least two hundred people here, and there was even a familiar face: Charlie, the man I'd saved from the chop in the mansion, who'd been very grateful to me and had not only filmed my epic exodus from the hospital, but also agreed to be a witness. What's this... I looked closely at the two girls sitting in the back rows. One looked like Harley in her disguise, and the other resembled Pamela, but how much foundation did she have to wear to hide her inhuman nature? To my dismay they were overshadowed by a very obese man sitting down right in front of them. Damn, I hope it wasn't them. There's a lot of people here, but they might be noticed, or they might do something stupid to try to get me out of the clutches of justice.
"Ha-hah," I laughed quietly, regaining my composure. No, it couldn't be my mistresses. As far as I knew, they didn't let everyone in, so they'd be discovered on the way out.
"All rise, Judge Frank Caprio," loudly spoke the policeman as an elderly man in a judge's robe appeared from the door next to the bench. The judge strode stiffly to his seat, sat down in his chair, and banged his gavel, signaling the beginning of the session.
"Ahem," coughed the man, giving everyone time to sit down. "This is the first time I've ever used such a strange format, especially in such a serious case, but the sequence of procedures will be fully observed. It's also the first time we don't know the suspect's real name, so we'll use the one he chose," the judge took a sheet of paper from the table and, checking it over.
"Mr. Arkham, you are accused of seventy cases of premeditated murder, one hundred and two cases of intentional infliction of harm to health of medium severity, three hundred and twenty cases of intentional infliction of harm to health of light degree, three cases of leading to suicide, bank robbery, eight episodes of illegal arms trade, twenty-one cases of car theft, organization of a criminal association–"
The list of my transgressions did not end, after the serious charges came quite small, like damaging city property and improper parking.
"–How do you plead?" asked the man. Finally he finished reading the charges.
"I won't admit it," I answered in a firm voice. "And I have a request."
"I'm listening to you very carefully."
"Can I sit next to my lawyer, consulting through the bars separating us is not exactly comfortable, besides, my actions over the last month show that I'm not going to run anywhere."
"I will grant your request. Bailiff."
The grate door opened and I took a seat next to Alan, noticing that the man was a little nervous.
"The grand jury was set to convene in twenty minutes," the man at the podium tapped his gavel and leaned back in his chair a little, glancing at his watch, the number of indictments was impressive indeed and he needed a little rest after reading the huge list. The situation with several consecutive sessions looks a bit strange, but Caprio tries to keep some semblance of order. With the last word of the judge, the hall filled with a buzz, evoking associations with an unfurled beehive.
"Alan, don't worry, we've got great evidence, it just won't go to trial."
We've become quite good friends over the last three days, politeness aside.
"About that–"
A drop of sweat rolled down my lawyer's forehead, which he hurriedly wiped away with a handkerchief.
"–You remember you said about the danger to my loved ones…"
"Don't tell me."
The man nodded doomfully, and my heart skipped a beat.
"Ha-ha-ha."
The rows closest to us shuddered, and the judge perked up, looking in my direction.
"Sorry, it happens to me sometimes. The fits of uncontrollable laughter are caused by pseudobulbar affect. It should be in my file."
The elderly man on the podium quickly found the right page in a folder and leaned back in his chair, and the buzz in the nearby rows resumed with renewed vigor.
"Alan, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"Jay, my daughter and granddaughter were taken hostage... I just had to comply with the kidnappers' demand, or I would never see them alive..." his fingers man and had to lock his hands together." I... I... I deleted all the supplemental materials. You have to replay the trial... It was the kidnappers requirement..."
Fuck. If it weren't for the smoothing out of the emotional peak, I'd be swearing out loud right now for a long, long time. Why the fuck did I have to bring in a lefty on my case? Harley and Ivy were supposed to keep an eye on the jury so they wouldn't be pressured, but I didn't warn my friends about the new value, and now I'm looking at a thousand years in prison. I wonder if I could live that long if I pump up my First Beginning. I guess I could, but the quality of life would not be very good, and if Darkseid invades, the prison cells could be damaged. Shit, I'm thinking about the wrong thing.
I didn't panic, but I had to get out of this mess somehow. And the problems I have, in fact, not so much, additional materials are just that, additional materials, that the probability of winning the case with them increases a little, and it is not zero. What kind of asshole would want me to rot in jail? The options are actually a million and one, because the slicer could have been a regular Gotham resident whose acquaintances or family may have been killed or mutilated by the previous owner of that body. This person, realizing that I have a good chance of getting away with it, simply took the lawyer's relatives hostage... Nah, that doesn't make sense. Alan organized his family's defense, and he couldn't get to them that easily, so it had to be someone more advanced or wealthy. Any villain fits the description, not even a super villain. There's no telling who the Joker might have gotten on the wrong side of...
[The quest "Save the Lawyer's Family" was generated: save the family members of Alan Dershowitz 0/2. Reward 5 free points]
Thanks, System, I never doubted you. But how do I do it? It's not like I can get out of the courtroom for a couple hours. Hmm, although there's no mention of personal involvement, how do I even get a message to Harley? I don't have her number. And there's no way to call Bats. Maybe there really are my girls at the end of the hall. But then how do I get a note to them? I mean, Alan can't be trusted now... I tore off a small piece of paper and wrote a message to my assistant.
"Alan, where were they hiding and who was responsible for their safety?"
"Fifth and Fourth in the old Gotham neighborhood. There's also the Delight Theater nearby. Fifth apartment. I hired three ex-cops for security. Moira and her daughter were never supposed to leave the apartment. I just don't understand," there was no trace of the confident lawyer, ready to defend the Devil himself, now I was looking at a broken old man.
"I will try to help your family... In case of emergency, you can always lose and then appeal, so don't worry," I finished in a cheerful voice and raised my hand like a schoolboy. "Your Honor, may I go to the bathroom? I understand the whole situation, so I don't mind being escorted."
"Yes, you may. Bailiff, escort Mr. Arkham out."
I was handcuffed and led to the exit before the march. As I got closer and closer to my destination, I became more and more frustrated. It wasn't them. Distance and daylight bulbs had played tricks on me. Sadly. I had to pass by, visit the reflection room and return to the hall, sitting down next to the lawyer.
Suddenly a brilliant idea flashed through my brain.
"Alan, I need your cell phone. Don't worry, your family will be fine."
The groggy man handed me a smartphone, and I immediately got into the search engine. There were ten minutes left before the meeting started.
Yes! The Internet did have the information I needed, and I quickly dialed the right number. I just wish it would work.
After a few beeps, a pleasant girl's voice came through the phone.
"Gotham Library, what can I do for you?"
"Mousey, it's so good to hear from you," whispered I, turning down the volume on the speaker almost to a minimum; it wasn't a problem for my hearing, but it wasn't likely to be overheard.
There was a pause.
"Who is it?" the voice clearly betrayed the hostess's tension.
"ay Arkham. This is a matter of life and death. Or rather, whether you'll see my annoying pale face in the next thousand years."
"What's wrong?"
"Can you get to Harley and give her a message?"
"Hell, no. I'm not going back to that nest of depravity!"
Wow, so she was visiting my assistant. That's interesting information, and given her reaction, Ivy could have been there, too. Okay, Jay, focus, stop imagining erotic scenes with three girls.
"Look, lawyer's family was kidnapped and threatened to kill me if I didn't go to jail. They lived in a house on fifth and fourth in the old Gotham neighborhood. There's a theater near the Delight. Fifth apartment. Mousey, I know you're a hero, but please don't act alone, you're not Bats."
"I may not be Batman, but he's trained me before."
"Oh, that's great! Do you have a way of contacting him? I could really use his help."
That news made me happy. The probability of saving Alan's family had just increased to ninety-nine point nine percent.
"I'll be fine on my own," mumbled the girl, dropping the call.
Shit. I tried to call her again, but all I got was a long dial tone. Good for you, Jay, for doubting the girl heroine that she couldn't handle it. Bravo. That's an act worthy of applause... There were no more ideas, but there was hope that Barbara wasn't completely stupid and would take Harley with her, or that Bats would follow Mouse and help her in case of trouble; after all, the Protector of Gotham must anticipate the possibility that his apprentice might become a hero.
~Knock~
The gavel struck loudly, signaling the beginning of the Grand Jury session.
***POV Barbara***
I'm riding my mini bike to Harley's apartment. Just got a call from the Joker, who is now Jay Arkham, asking for help... Oh, how crazy that would have sounded a month ago, but things change.
My first "encounter" with this horny duo was not entirely successful. The Joker had taken my father and several schoolchildren hostage. When I found out about it, I first tried on a heroine's costume, which I was preparing for Halloween. Thanks to my detective skills, I managed to get on the trail of the psychopath, where I had a live encounter with my idol and ideal. I didn't really get to participate in the rescue, but thanks to my presence, the Joker was distracted from controlling the platforms hanging over the vats of acid, and Batman managed to throw him away from the control panel. Naturally, running away, this maniac decided to blow everything up to get away from the pursuit, luckily I managed to get everyone out while the hero chased the villain. The explosion did occur, almost completely destroying the building. To be honest, in the back of my mind I was really hoping the green-haired bastard was dead under the rubble, but a week later the news showed the defusing of a bomb of too remarkable a design.
Somehow I had no doubt that the next target would be the school from which the students had been kidnapped. I changed my clothes and hurried to the scene, trying to analyze the available information. According to the news, the charge had been found in the sewers, so I immediately went underground in search of clues, and what was my surprise when I went around the underground perimeter of the school and came across a narrow crawlway that ended at the underground utilities of the building. There was indeed a bomb in the room beneath the school, as well as a supervillain who hadn't had time to leave the scene of the crime.
I don't know what came over me, but instead of taking logical actions that would involve the use of a taser or at least a telescopic baton, I acted like a real fool, almost losing an eye. Further events began to resemble some sur, ending with my humiliation. But I had not had enough of the lesson, so I decided to follow the "reformed" villain to his secret lair, and got into a new execution, which involved his assistant, who clearly enjoyed it all. She stole my first kiss!
The next day also brought surprises when the couple showed up at my place. When I realized who was hiding under the sloppy makeup, I was paralyzed with terror. Scenes of my dad getting fired, of me having to go back to my mom's house because my dad let me walk around town as Batgirl at night. I didn't want that, so I began my pursuit, having no idea what I would do when I caught up with them. I was truly desperate at the time, but I had no idea at all that I would be scolded and then forced to watch porn from the front rows. To my horror I realized that I was enjoying it, and the blonde's latest actions made me wet a little. I just imagined that doofus invading...
"Shit."
I shook my fist at the idiot in the minivan who decided to run a yellow light.
The business with Clayface had only brought our strange company closer together. I saw Jay in a new light. Yes, he was horny as hell, but he was also caring, sensitive, and strong. Stronger than even a trained man. When I twisted my leg, he picked me up without a word and ran the whole kilometer at a good pace, practically out of breath. And then Harley did the bandaging...
What about our grandiose threesome ride on a mini bike? I can resent the girl's actions all I want, but it felt good, and our shared hug at the end... I've never felt so safe...
I don't know what came over me then, but I decided to try what I had seen on the Internet, my dad was on duty, so nothing stopped me from getting ready. It turned out to be quite pleasant and unusual, if you relax and don't rush into anything. Then I noticed for the first time that I was now imagining Jay instead of Batman... And also his assistant, who caresses me everywhere.
Then, unexpectedly, Jay decided to voluntarily go to Arkham Asylum. Harley came back rather sad after that, but still continued to study the literature on networks. She invited me to her new apartment, since she had to move out of her old asylum because of Jay's pact with Batman. When I heard about it, I couldn't believe my ears. When he said he knew the identity of the Dark Knight, I was sure it was a joke, but what else could explain such superhero loyalty if not blackmail?
Just five days after Jay left for the hospital, a terrible thing happened. We were sitting in the library as usual, me listening to the news, reading fantasy, and Harley laying out the design of the future network. The idyll was interrupted by a report of the city being partially mined and the Joker taking over the island. Jay's face was once again wearing a crazy smile that almost turned into a grin.
That's when I first saw Harley cry.
It pained me to see the usually cheerful girl venting her frustrations about the asshole Joker. It was amazing, but she was fully aware that the old clown was a moral freak. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it, it was like she was attached to him. Then a slightly crazy plan to bring back an adequate option matured, and the blonde gladly accepted it.
The sewer crossing was quite long, but then we ended up on an island covered in the vapors of some nasty toxin. Instead of adequate reconnaissance, Harley immediately ran to find the Joker to beat him over the head until he was "normal". I was beginning to regret suggesting this. Luckily, our fears didn't come true and Jay remained the same. Riddler and Clayface were behind it all, trying to get revenge on Jay and at the same time get his hands on Titan, a horrible toxin that turns people into monsters.
Jay showed again how much he'd changed by giving me nice little things, for which he deserved a kiss. I didn't want to do it, but when I found out I was going to be trained by Batman himself, I was just too happy. Man, that was my first kiss with the opposite sex.
Back on the mainland, I decided to help my... friend... and organized a forum where I cited his good deeds and tried to whitewash his name in every possible way.
Then Batman came out to me and decided to start training me. The classes with him turned out to be very effective indeed, but terribly hard. He trained me in a rented warehouse on the outskirts of the city, so I would come home late at night and just fall on my bed, passing out instantly. After one of these returns I decided to replenish the information on the forum, but I literally passed out at the computer, and then woke up from the screams of my father, who read my notes. After a failed attempt to explain myself, which caused even more yelling, I had to leave the house temporarily, at first I wanted to stay in the library, but then I remembered about Harley and her offer, the address was known, so soon I was knocking on the black shabby door.
The apartment was quite nice and cozy, if you ignored the whole battery of sex toys standing like exhibits in a glass-door closet. Noticing my gaze, she kindly offered me to choose a device to my liking. I had to decline, although a couple models looked quite intriguing. Noticing that I was depressed, Harley arranged a real psychological session to help me. And it did! Looking at the blonde girl, sometimes I forget that underneath the layer of insanity and inadequacy hides a great mind. Realizing that I felt better, she immediately suggested that I relax and consolidate the result by sharing watching porn. Thereby reminding me that in addition to intelligence, there is also preoccupation. Of course, I refused, deciding to do it at home. She's a psychologist, after all, and knows better what helps with stress.
I came home in the morning and apologized to Dad. It was stupid to try to explain anything to him when he was on edge. He was the police commissioner and he knew what the Joker was really up to, since most of that information was hidden from the public.
Thankfully, he soon changed his mind about Jay and became less radicalized. Though I would have preferred him to be unharmed in the process, rather than shot in the arm and bleeding profusely.
The Joker's trial has shaken the whole of Gotham. Hundreds of people were staring at their smartphones, computers, and TV screens, watching the events unfold. I was no exception and watched the live broadcast with curiosity. The judge's decision to adjourn was strange, but it was the only way he could maintain some semblance of normalcy.
The call from Jay caught me off guard, and his words made me feel very resentful. It was like I couldn't handle it on my own, but I had to swallow my pride and head to the one known address. I'd rather have Harley than Batman, who might well forbid me from this adventure.
* A giant humanoid combat robot
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone