A Change of Plans: The Rise of Plant Master

The call was from Ventriloquist, who delivered bad news to Adam: Deadshot wanted to quit and head back home – Adam just felt exhausted. Once again, he realized the stark difference between reality and online games. There was no convenient "recruit soldiers and check loyalty" feature here. 

The guys he'd recruited were each more troublesome and eccentric than the last. Gordon, seeing that Batman didn't move to answer the call as usual, discreetly stepped aside. Adam asked Ventriloquist to hand the phone to Deadshot. After a brief pause, he composed himself and mimicked Deadshot's own voice: 

"Alright, alright, even if you don't want the money, you still need to survive and see your daughter again. I respect your choice and wish you a happy life, but there's something else I need to say. Are you satisfied with this?" 

Deadshot on the other end of the line felt a chill run down his spine. The voice, his own voice, offering unsolicited advice was... unsettling. 

"Listen, Lawton, I've looked into your situation. Your daughter's adoptive parents are just an ordinary family. They can't afford to give her a good education. Your daughter is still in elementary school. Next, she'll be going to the worst public middle school in the area, surrounded by hooligans who dye their hair, smoke, get tattoos, and fight. Then it's off to the worst high school – if your daughter even makes it that far without getting into trouble. Then what?" 

"Will she get pregnant by some redneck scumbag? Become a single mother? Work as a cashier in a supermarket, overweight and frumpy? Is that the life you envision for your daughter?" 

"Shut up! You bastard!" Deadshot's temper flared. He shouldn't be so easily provoked, but when it came to family, he couldn't maintain his composure. 

"Oh, yes, that's right. Her dad is the infamous Deadshot, a murderer wanted in over ten countries. The only thing setting Zoe apart from other slum girls is that her badass dad will put a bullet in anyone who messes with her, and he has some mercenary money stashed away. But what good is that?" 

"No matter how much money you have, the elite schools won't open their doors to Zoe. Not to mention, if you try to launder your dirty money, half of it will vanish. Your money can be cleaned, but your identity? Where will you take Zoe to live? The Sahara Desert The African savanna?" 

"My dear mercenary, you don't want your daughter to miss out on a good education, do you?" 

"Enough, stop talking!" A strange silence fell over the line, as if Deadshot was biting back a scream from his own racing heart. 

"I can get you a letter of recommendation from Bruce Wayne or Jim Gordon for the top university in Gotham. I can make the $200 million I'm paying you into legal income for Zoe through financial maneuvering." 

"I can plan a perfect life for Zoe." 

"..." 

Silence. 

Deadshot sighed on the other end of the line. He couldn't believe he was about to change his mind and backpedal on his decision in just a few minutes. He didn't even bother asking about clearing his identity. He knew even if the offer was genuine, it wouldn't be done for him. What they needed was a fighter, someone to charge into battle, not a soldier who constantly wanted to retire. 

"Okay, I understand. I'll help you..." 

"What did you call me?" 

"Boss." 

The matter was settled. Present the facts, lay out the deal, and seal it. 

Frankly, Adam didn't care if Deadshot was trying to extort him. It was pointless. Once Bane was dealt with, their partnership would end. Money would be exchanged, promises fulfilled, and they would each go their separate ways, never to cross paths again. 

At least he had Deadshot under control now, and that was something. Besides, with the National Guard deployed, could Bane really take on an entire army? Think positive. Maybe Batman wouldn't even need to intervene. 

Adam ended the call and turned to Gordon, ready to discuss their next move against Bane. He still held – wait, Gordon seemed to be answering another call. 

Jim Gordon turned away, wiping his brow, sweat beading on his greying hair. His expression was grave. "Hold on a moment, Batman." He said, then quickly left the rooftop via the stairs. A few minutes later, Gordon returned, clutching a file folder. He handed a document to Adam: 

"Read this first, I'll handle the rest. Three days ago, Star Labs was attacked, and someone was kidnapped. Harold Goldblum, a chemistry professor, head of GothCorp's chemical research department, expert in biological warfare, and a leading authority in biology, botany, and toxicology..." 

He pulled out a photo and showed it to Adam. It was a bald man with grey hair, who looked quite intelligent. Adam's heart sank. 

"This was a serious matter, but at the time, Firefly had just set Elmer's Pier ablaze." 

Adam chimed in, "And the pyromaniac Firefly was... um... enjoying himself immensely watching the pier become a torch, and then..." Adam stumbled. He suddenly remembered that in the original timeline, Batman had intervened immediately, pummeling Firefly into submission. 

But at that point, he had just arrived in this world and was still busy trying to trigger the Alfred Protocol, so – 

"There was a fierce confrontation between Firefly and the guys who responded to the scene." (The 'guys' Gordon mentioned were his police officers). "Besides Firefly, there was Mad Hatter, Ogre, Two-Face..." 

Gordon rattled off a long list of names like a menu. "Bane released so many from Arkham Asylum that Poison Ivy's case got delayed. But just ten minutes ago, I received a report that the Identification Department managed to recover some surveillance footage. It turns out Poison Ivy wasn't alone at Star Labs –" 

Adam took the photo from Gordon. Standing next to Poison Ivy was a monstrous tree-like figure. 

"We also learned that Professor Goldblum had just developed a large-scale biological weapon for GothCorp. If Poison Ivy and this... inhuman creature intend to replicate and use it in the city..." 

Adam studied the photo intently. "I know him. That's the Plant Master, Jason Woodrue," he said with certainty. "He replicated the accident that created Swamp Thing, turning himself into a walking plant, becoming a minor avatar of the magical force, the Green." 

"The Green? What the hell is that?" 

"An elemental essence representing plant life. Along with the Red, representing animal life, and the Black, representing decay and death, they're known as the three fundamental forces." 

"Hold on," Gordon interrupted. "Did you just say magic? I don't know why the content of our discussion suddenly jumped from police and gangster movies to super-powered magic brawls."