Chapter 41: The Cat and the Bat (2)

Words : 1747 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Chapter 41: The Cat and the Bat (2) When Schiller saw the despondent look on Bruce, his entire countenance shrouded in gloom, he knew that the conversation with Catwoman probably hadn't gone well. "You two didn't get into another brawl, did you?" he inquired. Bruce replied, "It's worse than that." "Well then, which hospital room is she in now?" Schiller asked. "I mean, Gotham's situation is worse than I imagined," Bruce explained. "There's a group of bad guys here that you can't really blame," Bruce said. "In this environment, they're doing the best they can." "I think you're starting to realize that being Batman isn't as simple as you thought," Schiller remarked. "Indeed," Bruce admitted. "I used to believe that with my armor, bulletproof helmet, sharp Batarangs, guns, and bullets, what gang could I not handle?" "Guns do have their uses," Schiller conceded. "At least they ensure that someone listens to what you say," Bruce added. "I can't tell Selena, 'You're wrong,'" Bruce sighed, covering his eyes. "In reality, she's been doing a good job." "Jonathan probably doesn't see it that way. What if I told you that Jonathan also grew up in an environment like this, and his crimes were a result of no one guiding him? What would you think?" Schiller asked. Bruce hesitated, realizing that he had been biased in favor of Selena. Many of the gang members he had punished were similar to Catwoman, just not as fortunate. Their families and pasts were all messed up, and they worked for the gangs not because they were inherently evil but simply to make a living. Breaking free from their socioeconomic constraints was much harder than he had imagined, especially in Gotham. This realization left Bruce feeling somewhat despondent. He finally understood why Schiller had said he didn't understand Gotham. Because anyone who wanted to save Gotham didn't truly understand it. Here, everyone was a bad guy, yet there wasn't a single bad guy. In this horde of walking dead, there was no one to be saved, nor was there anyone who was born to be eliminated. There was no mastermind; everyone was the mastermind. Bruce's path to becoming a hero was vastly different from what he had initially envisioned. He thought that by capturing enough criminals, extracting information from them, and then tracing back to the few tumors that had always been plaguing Gotham, he could ultimately make the city better. But now he realized it was an abyss. When he removed one set of tumors, another appeared. Nobody could endure such a drain, not in terms of wealth or physicality. Harvey believed that it wasn't just about reaching the finish line, but for Batman, he didn't even have a finish line. Bruce now understood that his struggle with Gotham would consume his entire life. He realized that wealth, equipment, and combat skills alone couldn't make him a true Batman. His greatest enemy wasn't the criminals; it was his own potential to give up. His biggest challenge wasn't how cunning his adversaries were; it was whether he could remain resolute enough to dedicate his entire life to an unredeemable city's endless battles. It was like an ordinary person spending a lifetime trying to make the sun rise in the west. Batman stood on the rooftop of Gotham Central Building, the wind howling around him. Underneath his feet, countless ordinary criminals were like a colony of ants. From here, he could see everything in Gotham clearly. Batman had thought Gotham lacked order, that it was pure chaos. But now he realized that not only did it have order, it had a more robust one than anywhere else. If it were just chaos, he could rebuild order. But now, he couldn't even disrupt Gotham's existing order. After a while, Batman heard footsteps behind him, and Catwoman approached with her hands behind her back. When she saw Batman turning around, she smiled and took out a gem, handing it to Batman with a mischievous grin. "I picked a beautiful little gem from my collection for you. Of course, I couldn't give you the biggest one, but I think this one is quite nice." Before Bruce could say anything, Catwoman continued, "Yesterday, I talked to Maggie. She said I should apologize to you. No matter what, I shouldn't have used a knife on you." "I've never apologized to anyone before. If someone tries to hit me, I hit back. But you've been good to me, even going for a joyride on a high-rise building with me, and I ended up stabbing you. That doesn't seem right," she admitted. She blinked her beautiful big eyes, and those brown eyes shone in the Gotham night like stars. "I can tell you're troubled. I hope this gem can make you feel better." Batman glanced down at the gem in his hand. It was a finely cut triangular red gem, somewhat resembling his emblem, and it sparkled even in the dim light. For the first time, Batman felt that this wasn't just a meaningless mineral for humans. Batman asked, "Do you want to hear my story?" Meanwhile, Schiller was on the phone, saying, "Released on medical grounds? How did he get approval for that? Although I don't want to blame you, the Gotham Police Department is really playing a farce..." While Batman's suit was fire-resistant, the growing blaze posed a danger to both Christine and Catwoman. Fire-resistant clothing did not protect against smoke inhalation, and the thick black smoke made it almost impossible to see, causing everyone to cough repeatedly. Suddenly, a clear "clang" came from the right side, as if something had fallen. Catwoman reacted swiftly, using her whip to retrieve it. To her surprise, it was a fire extinguisher! Without questioning its origin, Catwoman grabbed the extinguisher and shook it vigorously. Batman said, "Let's go to the spot where they threw the Molotov cocktails. There should be a vacuum there!" Batman led the way with the extinguisher, while Catwoman supported Christine. Indeed, the person who threw the Molotov cocktails had aimed well, causing them to land in the center of the hall rather than near the door. Besides a small carpet near the entrance, there was nothing flammable in front of the door. Batman used the extinguisher to put out the flames that came their way, and they pushed forward. When they reached the door, Batman shot the lock with his gun and then began to pound on the iron door with all his strength. The person who had thrown the Molotov cocktails seemed to have left in a hurry, and the front door was not as securely blocked as the back one. After several hits, Batman managed to create a gap. However, this also meant that air began to circulate, and the fire grew larger. Catwoman was on the verge of passing out from smoke inhalation, and Batman could feel her hand slipping from his shoulder. If she lost consciousness, both she and Christine would be in grave danger. With all his strength, Batman gave one final powerful push, and with a resounding "bang," the door swung open. The three of them escaped just in time. Catwoman gasped for breath, and by now, both Batman and Catwoman were covered in soot from the fire. After dropping Christine off, Batman, driving, asked Catwoman in the passenger seat, "Why did you rush in to save Christine? That was very dangerous, wasn't it?" Catwoman was still excitedly inspecting the interior of the luxurious car, clearly not having experienced such opulence before. Clearing her throat and calming her excitement, she eventually replied, "Well, I had a lot of reasons to earn your praise just now. Like wanting to learn from you to be a better person, or that deep down, I am a righteous heroine. Or maybe I couldn't stand seeing those kidnappers hurt innocent people..." Then, Catwoman looked at him, and when Batman felt her gaze on him, he once again sensed his heart racing. "You don't want me to do bad things, but I really love those gems. So, can I do one bad thing and then one good thing? Wouldn't that work?" "...Well, I just wanted to make you happier," Catwoman shrugged. "I know I can't be a great hero. I just like stealing things; it's a habit I've had since I was a child. I don't have a grand reason for it. Maybe that girl who's always waiting for you on the streets is better than me, after all. She's educated, beautiful, innocent, and has never done anything wrong." "But this is who I am. I don't dwell on those things. I just do what I want. You can consider me a criminal or an irredeemable bad guy, but I am who I am—a cat." Batman loosened his grip on the steering wheel slightly. He wasn't sure if this was the answer he wanted. But he knew that the romance, liveliness, and sincerity he saw in Catwoman weren't the reasons he loved her. A bat could never truly love a cat; he was simply envious of her freedom—something he, as the Dark Knight, could never attain. He had made up his mind to confront this irredeemable city. As he watched the luxury car slowly come to a stop at an intersection, Schiller on the rooftop communicated with the symbiote in his mind, "...No, we can't go down. What's about to happen is not suitable for young children to see." The symbiote let out a dissatisfied growl. "Yes, I know you did great just now, fetching the fire extinguisher from the coffee shop across the street corner and throwing it in there accurately!" "But what's happening inside the car is just the meaningless human reproductive process. You symbiotes don't need that process; you just need to shed." The symbiote fell silent, and Schiller wasn't sure if it understood. Schiller shifted his gaze away from the luxury car and looked at the dimly lit night of Gotham. Perhaps this city was beyond redemption, and perhaps Batman was just an ordinary man feeling despair and confusion. He thought. But Batman was not alone; he would never be alone.

Chapter 41: The Cat and the Bat (2)

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