C 28

A long and narrow shadow was projected onto the ground by the light on the outer wall of the top floor of the Continental Hotel. 

The shadow bore a cape on its back and two pointed ears, resembling a massive anthropomorphic bat. 

As people around began to exclaim in surprise, they instinctively looked up. The source of the shadow was revealed to be a tall figure standing imposingly at the highest point of the Continental Hotel, a sight that was both awe-inspiring and unnerving.

"Batman?" someone murmured, as the realization struck. Many of the policemen present had seen the popular movie that had recently been released. 

Particularly, the officer who had been patrolling Manhattan and had received the report was utterly astonished. "This, this, this…" he stammered, struggling to find the right words to convey the gravity of the situation.

The reporters, sensing a major story unfolding, quickly shifted into action. 

Big news! The public rivalry between the Life Foundation and the Daily Bugle had escalated into a spectacle that was drawing everyone's attention. The revelations by the Daily Bugle had put the Life Foundation in a dire position, with its market value plummeting to nearly half of what it once was.

Could Carlton Drake, the head of the Life Foundation, not be seething with rage? He had sent operatives from San Francisco to New York, crossing thousands of miles to take on the Daily Bugle, only to be thwarted by the unexpected appearance of Batman. 

The plot thickened further when they considered the connections between Anton Jameson, the grandson of the Daily Bugle's boss, and the masked vigilante. 

Did Anton have any ties to Batman? Was there some secret collaboration between Batman and the Daily Bugle?

As the reporters began to connect the dots, they glanced at the police officers outside the Continental Hotel and exchanged knowing looks. They all understood the implications: they had to play their cards right. 

Of course, they would acknowledge that the New York City government had executed a commendable job in handling the situation and that the police had acted swiftly. 

Yet, they were keenly aware that they must not offend those in power nor miss any opportunity to secure a compelling story.

The flashes from their cameras were incessant, illuminating the night like strobe lights at a concert. Suddenly, the figure above transformed into a giant bat with the cape as the wind whipped around. 

The shadow cast on the ground opened wide, and with a thrilling dive, Batman soared through the air, leaping from the Continental Hotel to a nearby building before vanishing into the darkness.

"Everyone, you are not allowed to follow up in the next action," Police Chief George Stacey ordered, his face dark with frustration. 

He turned to the person in charge of the Continental Hotel, saying, "Mr. Winston, I assume you don't mind coming back to the police station with me?"

"Of course, I'm here to serve the people," Winston replied, his voice dripping with feigned sincerity.

Meanwhile, at the Life Foundation Headquarters in San Francisco, Carlton Drake seethed with fury as he watched the news on television. His eyes were bloodshot with rage as he imagined himself leaping through the screen to confront Winston directly. 

To make matters worse, the Daily Bugle had published Winston's accusations against the Life Foundation on the front page, causing a sensational uproar. 

The Life Foundation had fallen from grace, its market value cut by more than half, barely maintaining a third of its former worth.

Drake slammed his fist on the desk, sending papers flying. "Is this how you do things for me?" he growled, glaring at the head of his security detail. He was unable to contain his anger, hurling office supplies at the man, who ducked to avoid the onslaught.

"Is this what you call getting the job done?" Drake's voice was laced with venom.

If Anton had died and he faced accountability, he wouldn't have been angry—he would have been satisfied that his objective had been met. 

But this? It was a complete disaster. Drake felt like he was losing everything: the battle and the operatives. Seeing the latest news unfold made his head spin.

Eddie, the symbiote he had hoped would yield results, remained elusive, and the potential to advance their experiments seemed out of reach. To make matters worse, the plan for revenge had blown up in their faces, leaving him feeling utterly defeated. 

"Boss, the Continental Hotel is a killer organization. They broke the rules; we have grounds to complain to the High Table," the bodyguard leader finally spoke up, attempting to offer some semblance of consolation.

Drake shot him a cold, incredulous look. "Complain? Do you still think we can rely on others?" he scoffed. 

"Last night, all the killers in the Continental Hotel were subdued by Batman and taken into custody by the police. Hoping for help from the High Table is futile. We need to focus on what to do about this Batman who appeared out of nowhere."

The bodyguard leader fell silent, processing Drake's words. He had been entrenched in the underground world long enough to understand the intricacies of power and the fear the Continental Hotel instilled in people. 

Recently recruited by the Life Foundation, he had become Drake's right-hand man, yet he was still stunned by how a single vigilante could dismantle a powerful organization like the Continental.

"Who is this Batman?" he finally asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Boss, if he could infiltrate the Continental Hotel so easily, he must be someone significant."

Drake's expression darkened. "It's not that he's an unknown figure," he replied, his voice low and dangerous. "He is exactly the person we need to eliminate."

"Anton?" The bodyguard leader's eyes widened, disbelief etched on his face.

"Anton, Batman, Daily Bugle…," Drake muttered, a throbbing headache building in his temples. He couldn't afford to be distracted by the entangled connections. His focus tightened on the threat before him.

Meanwhile, in a villa area in New York, Anton found himself facing Jonah Jameson, who was staring at him with an intensity that made Anton uneasy. 

"Old man, you've been watching me all day. What is it that you want to say?" Anton asked, irritation creeping into his tone.

Jameson's excitement was palpable as he exclaimed, "When did you gain such abilities? Batman? If you truly are Batman, I'll eat the newspaper in front of you right now!"

"Is that so?" Anton raised an eyebrow, transitioning into his Batman persona while simultaneously summoning his basic armor. In an instant, he transformed into the enigmatic figure who had captivated the city only the night before.

"Fuck!!!" Jameson exclaimed, taken aback. He hadn't anticipated Anton revealing his secret so openly. 

The old man's shock was evident as he struggled to process the sight of Anton clad in armor, the essence of Batman embodied before him.

"I'm very compassionate and respectful towards the elderly. You don't really have to eat the newspaper," Anton said with a hint of humor as he reverted to his normal appearance. 

"But there are some things you don't need to ask about, old man. You'll come to re-understand the world in time."

Jameson blinked, his initial shock fading as curiosity took over. "Where's your motorcycle?" he demanded, the glimmer of enthusiasm returning to his voice. 

"I must say, you've inherited my taste. That bike did a superb job last night. Bring it out; I want to try it!"

Anton chuckled at the old man's excitement, feeling a mixture of amusement and exasperation. As he prepared to show Jameson his latest acquisition, he couldn't shake the feeling that their world was about to get a lot more complicated.

….

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