Chapter 796 "Encounter With Batman"

Gotham City was blanketed in dense fog, its nocturnal atmosphere tinged with the scent of kerosene. The skyline boasted an array of peculiar Gothic structures, casting eerie shadows across the urban landscape.

Perched atop a clock tower, Jerry surveyed the city below:

"Eye of Exploration!"

A basketball-sized eye materialized in the sky above Gotham, adorned with a crimson cross at its center. This mystical creation, known as the Eye of Exploration, bore the invention of Erza's mother, Irene.

True to its name, it possessed the ability to detect events within a designated radius.

Despite Jerry's limited magical prowess, he commanded the eye to scour the vicinity of the clock tower, uncovering a multitude of ongoing crimes. Theft, assault, drug trafficking, and gun violence permeated the city's nocturnal fabric.

Descending from the tower, Jerry gracefully landed on the roof of a nearby building, his form melding seamlessly with the darkness. With swift determination, the righteous feline leaped into action, purging the city of its malevolent forces.

Spell after spells were being cast by Jerry.

Hearing the voice of the criminals begging for mercy is music to Jerry's ears. They can only curse the wind because they will never know what or who hits them in the first place.

For those deemed to have committed less severe offenses, Jerry swiftly employed the petrification and coma spells. However, for those individuals whose crimes warranted a more severe punishment, he unleashed the arrow spell and summoned serpents to deliver swift justice.

While spells like the Unforgivable Curses were undoubtedly more potent, Jerry refrained from using them due to their significant mana consumption, which was impractical given the current circumstances.

Instead, he opted for spells like the arrow spell and dragon summoning spell, which were far more mana-efficient.

The rationale behind this decision lay in the fact that the criminals he encountered were ordinary individuals who posed no significant threat. Moreover, given his current feline form, he could approach them undetected, rendering the need for more powerful spells unnecessary.

With more than a dozen criminal cases resolved and a considerable haul of small red stars acquired, Jerry assessed his remaining magical reserves and deemed it time to withdraw.

Reflecting on his first night in Gotham, Jerry felt a sense of satisfaction with the outcomes achieved. At this rate, coupled with dedicated training, he estimated that it would take less than a year to regain the strength of his former self fully. Once he reached that point, he would no longer need to tread cautiously.

Expanding his small wings, Jerry soared towards the hotel, his mind occupied with various musings.

However, as he passed by a nearby parking lot building, a sudden eruption of gunfire caught his attention. Frowning, he peered downward, his expression shifting to one of surprise.

"Batman? No, Batman wouldn't resort to firearms, and that attire seems too subpar. Is it an impersonator?" Jerry pondered the situation, thinking, who could it possibly be?

Batman, traumatized by the tragic loss of his parents to gunfire, typically eschewed the use of firearms, relying instead on bat darts, close combat, or sophisticated technological weaponry.

The group below, comprising Batman impersonators, found themselves locked in a heated confrontation with a formidable gang.

Armed to the teeth and accompanied by several vicious dogs, the gang quickly gained the upper hand, their adversaries either pinned down by gunfire or fending off the relentless attacks of the ferocious canines.

"Enhance Precision! Summoning Steel Arrows!"

Touching down on the fifth-floor parapet of the parking structure, Jerry flicked his tail, conjuring a dozen steel arrows into existence. With unwavering focus, he directed the projectiles toward the gangsters and their canine companions, determined to turn the tide of the skirmish.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak," echoed the air as sharp arrows found their mark.

The gangsters caught off guard, watched in disbelief as steel shafts pierced through their necks, leaving them slumped on the ground, lifeless.

The ferocious dogs, previously in the midst of their attack, were similarly immobilized as the arrows impaled them into the unforgiving concrete.

Though Jerry's feline form boasted enhanced resilience, it remained vulnerable to the lethal force of modern firearms.

Hence, in such confrontations, swift and decisive action was imperative for survival, leaving no room for mercy.

Five aspiring vigilantes, clad in shoddy Batman-inspired attire, witnessed the surreal tableau before them, their fear palpable as they discarded their firearms and hastily retreated in their van.

These individuals, enamored with the mythos of Batman, had sought to emulate their hero's nocturnal crusade against crime.

However, their makeshift costumes and misguided attempts at vigilantism proved woefully inadequate in the face of Gotham's ruthless underworld.

Had it not been for Jerry's intervention, these misguided enthusiasts would have met a grim fate, their bodies likely dismembered and discarded as mere fodder for the city's voracious criminal elements.

"What's this now?" Jerry murmured, watching the five would-be heroes scatter in fear. With a wry smile, he shook his head, readying to depart. But his attention was snagged by a tiny drone hovering above the garage.

"Seems like the real Batman is curious about me. I wonder why?" Jerry mumbled with a smug smile.

In a swift motion, his tail elongated, snaring the drone and yanking it down with practiced precision. Over time, Jerry had honed his feline form, adapting it to enhance his defensive capabilities.

His tail, once just a few centimeters long, now served as a versatile appendage for combat and spellcasting alike.

His claws, too, had undergone a transformation, extending to formidable lengths imbued with magical runes of sharpness, toxicity, and durability.

Even in the absence of magical energy, his altered physiology rendered him a formidable opponent against mundane adversaries.

As he inspected the captured drone, Jerry noted the distinct bat emblem concealed within its design, prompting further intrigue. 

Unlike the shoddy gadgets of the amateur vigilantes earlier, Jerry could discern the craftsmanship of the drone he now held—it was of superior quality, crafted from top-tier materials, likely the work of the genuine Batman himself.

As expected, not long after seizing the drone, a batarang whizzed towards him. But Jerry, with his feline reflexes, easily intercepted it, catching Batman off guard.

"You're aware that cats have quicker reflexes than humans, right? Your aim was a tad off," Jerry remarked, seizing the batarang in his jaws before flinging it back towards the real Dark Knight, who stood by the Batmobile.

Batman, his disbelief evident, caught the returning weapon. "You... you can talk?" he stammered, taken aback by the unexpected revelation.

"You have a lot of unexpected things happening in Gotham on a daily basis, yet you are surprised by a talking cat? You have a low standard, Batman!" Jerry remarked furiously. He found himself in disbelief after hearing Batman's comment.

How can he not be surprised? Almost every single villain in Gotham is pretty much a Humanoid mixed with either animals or other elements, but somehow, a talking cat is enough to surprise Batman himself...

Witnessing a winged cat transform into a steel projectile had already stretched the limits of plausibility, but now, conversing with a feline in fluent human language defied belief.

Had it not been for the drone's scans confirming the cat's biological origins as a purebred Oriental tabby, Batman might have entertained the notion of a high-tech robotic cat instead.

"Is it possible this is some genetically altered cat from an underground laboratory?" Batman wondered.