Chapter 2: Arriving in Gotham

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Chapter 2: Arriving in Gotham

The ship docked at Gotham Harbor, and Quinn walked off the ship with his luggage. As he had planned this trip to Gotham for a long time, Quinn didn't feel rushed.

Before leaving, the captain had a chat with him.

"You're the only one who voluntarily requested to transfer to Gotham in all these years," the captain said, patting Quinn's shoulder.

"Young man, Gotham is not like the central city. If the police want to survive there, they must be cautious and careful," the captain advised.

Quinn listened to the captain's life experience and noticed a bulge in the pocket of one of the crew members nearby, who was handling the cargo.

"Gotham truly lives up to its reputation. The harbor is so busy even in the late night," Quinn sighed, marveling at Gotham's simple and honest people. He didn't boast about it; he wasn't a superhero. He didn't have the ability to take on hundreds of enemies alone, especially without a gun. His old gun was left at the police station in the central city, and he would have to reapply for a new one at the Gotham Police Department.

Nonchalantly, Quinn walked past the crew members, leaving his luggage behind. One of them reflexively reached for his waist, but his companion stopped him, gesturing with his eyes to prevent him.

"Don't move. He's one of us, brought by the captain. Heard he's a newly transferred police officer," the companion said.

"A voluntarily transferred police officer to Gotham? Heh, just thinking about it tells you what kind of person he is. Maybe he's already a big shot by now," the crew member speculated.

Having an undercover informant in the police station was a basic operation for the gangs, even for officers under Commissioner Gordon. It was even more suspicious for a new police officer to have such close ties with the gang in Gotham. Even if Quinn was innocent, he couldn't easily wash away the suspicion, especially in a city like Gotham.

In fact, Quinn was also puzzled. How did things turn out this way? Since he was the only police officer transferred to Gotham, it was unlikely that the higher-ups would charter a ship just for him. They only provided him with the travel expenses, and it was Quinn's decision to take a cargo ship to Gotham.

So Quinn spent some time inquiring and learned that there was a cargo ship heading to Gotham. He approached the captain and asked if he could catch a ride, of course, for a fee. The captain readily agreed and even struck up a conversation with Quinn during the voyage, asking him why he was going to Gotham, to which Quinn answered truthfully.

It was only after Quinn revealed his identity as a police officer that he noticed a change in the captain's expression. He observed carefully and discovered that the cargo being transported had a slight difference from what he had imagined.

Out of the crew members' line of sight, Quinn abandoned his luggage and tightened his loose clothes with a strap. He put on a mask that he carried with him, a habit he developed in his previous life.

Climbing onto a shipping container, Quinn cautiously crawled forward, peeking out with half of his head. He saw the captain who had shared his life experiences with him standing next to a man in a tailcoat.

"Edward, did you bring everything I asked for?" Mr. Cobblepot, also known as the Penguin, held an umbrella in one hand and clenched a cigar in his mouth, emitting clouds of smoke, making it difficult to discern his expression.

Captain Edward was not a simple character either. There were only a few who could transport goods to Gotham. He handed Mr. Cobblepot a wooden box and said, "Here, my reliable crew members have unloaded everything for you. And enough with the small talk, Mr. Cobblepot. How does the saying go? Time is money, my friend."

Edward was not afraid of the Penguin. His main activities were in South America, and Gotham was just one of his stops. He couldn't afford to show weakness to his partners, as the despicable Penguin would take advantage of any opportunity, just like the capitalists who had exploited him before, squeezing out all his profits.

The Penguin maintained his gentlemanly demeanor as he glanced at his henchman. His henchman immediately understood and, along with his subordinates, used a pry bar to open a wooden crate, revealing cans of sardines... wait, sardines?

It seemed reasonable for a penguin to eat fish, but the Penguin was just a nickname for Cobblepot. He was actually an intelligent supervillain and wouldn't engage in a midnight trade for cans of sardines with his henchmen.

As expected, when the sardine cans were emptied, the true nature of the transaction was revealed: firearms. Crates of firearms, and even rocket launchers.

With such a large quantity of weapons, was the Penguin preparing for a deadly battle with the Gotham Police Department?

Quinn slipped his left hand into his pocket, rubbing the screen of his phone. Barry had given him Commissioner Gordon's contact information. Quinn hesitated whether to make the call.

Commissioner Gordon probably didn't know that Barry was the Flash. Persuading him as a mere forensic analyst might not be convincing enough. Gordon might not believe a newcomer who had just arrived, especially considering the firepower Quinn witnessed. If the entire Gotham Police Department didn't mobilize, their arrival would be futile.

Perhaps it was better to retreat. Quinn wondered if he was too inexperienced. Smuggling large quantities of weapons might be more common than he thought, especially in Gotham.

Just a little taste of Gotham's shock.jpg

Quinn wiggled his buttocks, preparing to descend from the shipping container when a black cylindrical object suddenly appeared not far from him. Having spent half a year at the police station, Quinn recognized this little gadget at a glance and instinctively buried his head in his arms.

A loud bang illuminated the harbor, making it as bright as daylight at three o'clock in the morning. Smoke grenades descended, and police officers wearing night vision goggles followed closely behind, holding riot shields.

"Damn it, it's Gordon."

Flashbangs didn't affect the Penguin. His senses were even sharper than Quinn's. The moment the flashbangs were deployed, he had already opened his custom-made umbrella.

However, the umbrella could shield against intense light, but it couldn't block the thick smoke. The Penguin shouted for his henchmen to hold their ground while he retreated.

The Penguin's physical skills were impressive among ordinary people. He could withstand two rounds against Batman, mainly relying on his umbrella. However, he was well aware that this place was no longer suitable for showcasing his physical abilities.

"Halt! Don't move!"

The customary crowd control warning was given, but this was Gotham, and the Penguin Gang didn't fear the police. Amidst the continuous shouting, the police lost the initiative, and the gangsters recovered from the disorientation. They grabbed the guns beside them and started shooting at the police.

Gordon knew that giving a warning to Gotham's mobsters would be useless, but he still ordered the officers to do so because they were the police. He was well aware of the consequences of opening fire without a warning, which would result in a desperate struggle followed by being brought to court and entangled with the criminals' lawyers.

The law is not always a weapon of justice; sometimes, it becomes a weapon of the enemy. Gordon instructed his officers not to give the law a chance to harm them.

"The situation is at a stalemate, Commissioner. The enemy's firepower is too intense. The SWAT team can't get in..."

Gordon took off his dusty yellow coat and put on a heavy bulletproof vest, checking the safety of his handgun. "Then we'll continue to block the harbor. We won't let penguin escape from here."

Gordon knew that the people inside were members of the Penguin gang.

It's not only the mob that plants moles; the law enforcement agencies in the United States have been doing it for ages. Gordon learned from them too. Earlier, his informant had sent him a message that the Penguin gang would conduct a large-scale arms deal at the harbor at three o'clock tomorrow morning.

The underground arms trade market in Gotham had always been controlled by the Penguin gang. Gordon had been wanting to find an opportunity to disrupt their supply channels, which would at least reduce the death rate of Gotham's officers by ten percent.

Gotham's officers understood the importance of combating illicit arms smuggling. Every bullet they seized reduced their chances of being killed by an illegal gun in the future.

However, Gordon clearly underestimated the Penguin's appetite. The enemy's firepower exceeded his expectations, and Gordon, in order not to alert the mole in the police department, didn't bring the best equipment, which put him at a disadvantage.

"The situation is not good."

It was Quinn who spoke.

The sudden arrival of the police certainly disrupted the Penguin gang's arms deal, but it wasn't necessarily a good thing for Quinn. He couldn't explain why a rookie police officer like him would appear at the scene of an arms deal at three o'clock in the morning.

Sneaking away was no longer an option, and the person leading the operation was Gordon. This old police officer had definitely sealed off the scene in advance. Quinn believed that even if he walked out with a French military salute, he wouldn't be riddled with bullets. However, he couldn't explain clearly, and he would likely have a hard time at the police station afterwards.

"Can I only take a risky move?"

What is the most direct way to prove that he is not an enemy? Stabbing their enemies. They wouldn't recognize Quinn as one of their own, but at least they would consider him a third party.

And coincidentally, while Quinn didn't carry a gun, he did have a knife—a rather unusual one.

Quinn opened the storage room, took out an unsharpened wooden sword, and held it in his hand.

"I've wiped it dozens of times. Even if there was curry, I wiped it clean. Why does the handle still feel so greasy?"

Quinn jumped down from the stack of crates. The gangsters below hadn't expected that someone had been lurking above their heads.

"Let these shit cops taste our power!"

Muzzles spewed blinding tongues of fire, and all that could be heard was the continuous sound of gunfire. They poured their firepower madly, forcing Gordon's people to keep their heads down and retreat.

With a firm strike, the tip of the sword precisely hit the enemy's head, knocking them unconscious. Quinn held the knife in his right hand, his left hand involuntarily tucked into his clothes.

"We have someone with a knife rushing in! Take him out!"

Surprise attacks were only effective momentarily, and the Penguin gang was no ordinary group of thugs. They had clashed with Batman more than once and survived. They couldn't be underestimated.

After returning the gun to the police station, Quinn tested his only weapon and found that Toya Lake was not as bad as it seemed.

A regular wooden sword wouldn't receive a rating of more than one and a half stars, and Toya Lake itself didn't possess the properties to enhance physical abilities. However, it could increase the wielder's control over their own strength.

Quinn used Toya Lake to accurately injure or stun criminals, ensuring they would remain unconscious for a while without endangering their lives. This also applied to his footsteps and breathing patterns.

That was why Quinn dared to directly enter the fray. It was nighttime, and as long as Quinn's actions were quick and precise enough, it would be difficult for him to be surrounded.

Bullets rained down like a shower. At that moment, Quinn felt like a salmon swimming upstream. Faced with these bullets that had eliminated warriors, Toya Lake suddenly began to emit light. Quinn felt a surge of heat flowing through his body.

The special effect, "Spirit of the Warrior," was not merely for mockery. It included an understanding of weapons, mastery of the body, and a strong spirit.

One slash shattered the enemy's submachine gun. At that moment, the surge finally took shape, gathering in Quinn's lower abdomen. That position... the dantian!

Could it be that Toya Lake also had the effect of unblocking the Ren and Du meridians and opening the dantian? Quinn was filled with excitement. It was no wonder it was Gintama's beloved sword—it was much stronger than many blades.

However, in the next second, the gathered surge rushed downward, and Quinn instinctively tightened his legs.

"WTF!"

Quinn trembled all over, narrowly avoiding the bullets.

This surge was not what he had imagined; it was some kind of liquid that was constantly trying to break through his defenses.

Quinn felt his body trembling.

Seeing Quinn's state, the Penguin gang, which was caught in a pincer attack, immediately regrouped.

"Keep up the suppression! Take care of this vigilante behind us and make sure he becomes disabled, so he understands that Gotham isn't a place where anyone can 'uphold justice'!"

Gotham's criminals despised superheroes, especially those from outside. Even Superman couldn't earn their recognition. The only person they truly saw as a thorn in their side was Batman.

A black figure landed on a crane used for transporting shipping containers, holding a round, chubby man. It was the Penguin who had escaped earlier. He had arranged three speedboats to go in different directions, while he planned to escape using the parachute hidden in the crane.

Clearly, the Penguin's escape plan had failed, and his old friend Batman had guessed his intentions.

"Cough, cough... Ahem..."

When the Penguin was captured, he attempted to resist, only to receive a purple eye and swollen lips in return.

"At this time, at this place, Batman, you've arrived just in time, hahaha."

The Penguin laughed, despite his single-lens glasses being shattered. His laughter was filled with conspiracy.

Batman's gaze narrowed slightly. "The Penguin gang's firepower is too strong. Gordon can't handle it."

A punch knocked out the Penguin, and Batman wanted to extract information from him once he woke up. But for now...

He stood on a high vantage point, overlooking the entire harbor. The bat, who lurked in the darkness, observed his prey.

A commotion caught Batman's attention. A young man wielding a blade had broken in from the left side and knocked down several Penguin gang members.

"Another newcomer. The number of vigilantes in Gotham is increasing. That's not a good sign."

Batman always remembered that he, as a person like himself, should be feared rather than revered. Non-professional imitators meant chaos, and Gotham didn't need any other superheroes.

Gotham belonged to Batman.

Batman gave up his aerial descent and lurked in the shadows, observing Quinn.

His sword strikes were smooth, without any unnecessary flourishes. It appeared as though he had received training from a renowned teacher, but with Batman's knowledge, he couldn't identify the specific style. Each thrust was aimed at vital points, and the force he used was just right.

Although the young man hadn't noticed it yet, he was gradually approaching the term "warrior." His attacks were becoming more precise, his movements cleaner, and more and more Penguin gang members fell under his blade.

"Like a seasoned sword master."

Batman furrowed his brow slightly. The young man didn't seem to be older than twenty, and only through training from a young age would it be possible to reach this level. In terms of swordsmanship alone, Batman didn't have an absolute guarantee of defeating him.

"You all get out of my way!"

Quinn spat, and with a mid-air spin, he knocked down two more people below him. He continued his rapid advance.

As long as he could reach that spot! Quinn concentrated all his focus on the blue figure on the opposite side. Meanwhile, the Penguin gang started to resort to desperate measures and brought out shoulder-mounted rocket launchers.

The missiles, accompanied by trails of fire, flew towards Quinn, but instead of slowing down, he charged forward without hesitation.

"A pure act of recklessness, or is there something to rely on..."

Batman quickly pulled out a Batarang. It contained a mini explosive that could remotely detonate the missiles.

But there was a wooden sword that was faster than his Batarang, just as described in TV shopping commercials. Its original name was the Shirasaya Sword "Star Smasher" from Lake Toya, and it sliced the missiles apart like tofu.

An explosion followed, and the wooden sword was blown back into its owner's hand. Amidst the flames, Quinn swiftly dispatched the remaining Penguin gang members.

A dark figure descended. Batman, as always, appeared suddenly.

"Drop your weapon. The police will be here soon. Let me take you away... cough!"

A lightning-fast thrust, and the wooden sword was pressed against Batman's abdomen.

Ordinary warriors couldn't land a hit on Batman, but this was Gintama's sword.