Chapter 80: That Man Symbolizes Freedom (Part Two)

"Siegfried, if you catch this Batman and discover he’s human, what will you do with him?"

"Of course, hand him over to Princess Yada."

"And what will the princess do to him?"

"That’s not something I can predict. But this man, a symbol of freedom, has already added to the princess’s less-than-stellar reputation with more troubling rumors. I don’t think Batman will have a good outcome."

—Having heard the gist of it, are you willing to help me? I’d really value your opinion," the Rose Knight said sincerely.

"Sorry, I really can’t this time. I have other tasks to attend to. Next time you need something, I promise I’ll help," Victor replied tactfully.

The young man had considered joining the investigation, but ultimately chose to refuse. If he were present at the scene, he would inevitably encounter other parties from last night, and perhaps even face various renowned magical detection methods. So in the end, he decided to remain uninvolved.

Siegfried was somewhat disappointed. "What a shame. Your handling of the ghoul incident was so steady; with your help, I’m sure we could catch this Batman."

"Capture him? From the sound of it, you don’t think he’s a monster?"

"I have no assumptions. But since the drunks were only seriously injured, and he didn’t hurt anyone while fleeing through the trade district, I lean toward him being merely a human in strange attire. Still, the investigation must be done."

The knight rose. "Since you’re busy, thank you for your hospitality. I’ll go ask around the tavern for more information!"

After seeing the Rose Knight out and closing the door, Victor’s first act was to head downstairs and stash the Batman suit in the deepest corner of his herb pouch.

Last night, out of a sense of nostalgia, he had destroyed Catwoman, but not Batman; instead, he left the suit airing in the alchemy lab, intending to don it again for a night out when the opportunity arose.

In other words, if the Rose Knight had gone downstairs and stepped into the alchemy lab, he would have solved the case then and there. Judging from last night’s final conversation with Yada, if the princess caught him, it would be exceedingly difficult to say "no" to her.

Still, the risk was worth it; the herb pouch’s storage capacity had indeed increased a bit, proof that his spirit had improved, and that the positive feedback theory was effective.

...

Meanwhile, in the temple district of Vizima, inside a three-story medieval building, three people occupied a neatly arranged office on the second floor. Two sat across the table from each other, the third stood guard by the door.

"...What’s interesting is, after studying the detailed transcript, I can sense that this Batman must be from a noble family, well-educated, yet deeply cynical," said a thin, bald man wearing a monocle, sliding his annotated report across the table to the man opposite.

He then leaned back with tactical nonchalance, thudding his feet onto the desk and cleaning his monocle with a cloth. "He carries himself with the elegance of nobility, and speaks to Princess Yada as an equal, entirely unfazed by her rank. As for the sharpness he displays at the end—such a brazen soul on Temerian soil, I almost thought my own king had stepped out to play Batman himself."

"Damn it! Watch your words, Thaler. Even you aren’t allowed to joke about the king," snapped a man with a black square scarf wrapped around his head, chewing a cigar as he studied the intelligence, clearly displeased at Thaler’s irreverence.

Director of Temeria’s Intelligence Bureau—Thaler: "Screw you! Vernon Roche, you don’t need to flaunt your loyalty in front of me, nor is it your place to question mine.

Now that that bitch Catriona the Arrow has left and the plague regime has loosened, Vizima’s prosperity has returned at the cost of all sorts of schemes stirring. Especially those damned Squirrels—their recent moves are suspicious. I’ll keep an eye on them. As for this Batman, I’ll let you know if there’s any news."

Commander of the Special Forces "Blue Stripes"—Vernon Roche: "We all know the Royal Guard is full of nobles playing soldier, though the commoners think it’s Temeria’s finest. Their failures tarnish Temeria’s honor, so the culprit shouldn’t get off easy. I’ll catch this bastard myself."

"Tch! And when you do, will you hand him over to the lovely Yada?"

"Too much of a waste to make him her toy. I’ll beat him up first, let him know Temeria’s authority isn’t to be trifled with, then recruit him into my Blue Stripes, so he can learn the glory and perks of serving the king."

Thaler laughed as he polished his monocle. "Ha, sounds like you admire him?"

Roche bit his cigar and lit it, taking a deep drag. "The Royal Knights may be idiots, but this guy escaped their thorough encirclement—that takes skill. Ves certainly couldn’t pull it off."

"Screw you, bastard! Admire him all you want, but why compare him to me? In a surprise situation, with that kind of net, even you might not escape," complained the third person in the room.

Blond-haired, blue-eyed, with her shirt carelessly unbuttoned to reveal a swath of snowy skin, Ves accompanied Vernon Roche.

She was the Blue Stripes’ lieutenant—the only woman in the special forces. Holding her position meant formidable swordsmanship and archery, not to mention a fierce, cold personality.

Roche looked at Ves’s spirited retort with amusement and annoyance, while Ves met his gaze with defiant challenge. The Blue Stripes were bonded as comrades and family, but she could be a little too blunt.

Thaler, now wearing his cleaned monocle, tapped the table to draw attention. "Anyway, I get your point. This Batman who appeared out of nowhere at least has the physical qualities you value. I’ll keep an eye out."

The commander nodded, walked to the door, and tousled Ves’s golden hair in a gesture of reassurance. "Let’s go. Next time, remember to protect my reputation in front of outsiders."

As Roche reached for the door handle, Thaler suddenly added, "This incident seems like a spontaneous urban curiosity, but it conveniently provides an opening for all factions to muddy the waters. If this is a planned scheme, I’d say the mastermind understands intrigue and timing as deftly as a Nilfgaardian diplomat."

Roche stubbed out his cigar against the door. "If this man’s actions are deliberate, I believe he’ll soon appear before us."

...

Night had fallen at the Bear Tavern’s second floor, and as usual, Ramsmith of the Ram Gang was hosting a dinner. His guest was Madame Carmen.

Also present was a gang member nicknamed Black Dog, one of those who witnessed Batman’s appearance last night. He was animatedly recounting what he’d seen: the three sentences Batman spoke upon arrival, the impossibly curvy Catwoman who kicked a Fire Salamander thug, and finally, how the two black-clad figures mercilessly beat down three other villains.

After Black Dog finished and left the room, Ramsmith, his mouth stuffed with beef, spoke as was his habit, "That’s how it went. Honestly, Madame Carmen, I can’t figure out where these two came from or what their motives are. Any thoughts?"

Madame Carmen considered for a moment and shook her head. "I have no idea, nor do I know why they popped up. I’m not particularly interested in understanding it. Protecting us is your responsibility, so handle it as you see fit."

With that, she stood and left, and Ramsmith sensed she might know a bit more than she let on, but didn’t try to stop her.

A person with Batman’s skills doesn’t just drop out of the sky. If Madame Carmen could control him, he’d never draw attention in such flamboyant dress, so even if she knew something, it was probably not important.

He admired her strength and respected Vincent, the man behind her. Since their interests aligned, there was no need to probe a few small secrets—everyone has their own.