Chapter 15: Oracle

"Alfred, how's my spine doing?"

In a spacious underground area, Bruce Wayne, the Gotham City billionaire, and the superhero known as Batman, was half-lying on a bed surrounded by various high-tech instruments.

This place was the Batcave, his hideout as Batman and one of the safest places in Gotham City.

Standing beside his bed was a man with graying hair, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit—his most trusted butler, Alfred Pennyworth.

"To be honest, it's not optimistic, Master Bruce. You might not be able to show up as Batman for quite a long time," Alfred said gravely, setting down the X-rays and sighing softly.

Bruce frowned but remained calm as he took the X-ray from Alfred's hand, casually flipping through it before saying in a relaxed tone, "But what if we use that new type of nano-medical technology used for Barbara?"

"Miss Barbara's situation is different, Master Bruce."

Alfred looked sternly at Bruce, speaking firmly. "Your spine's has been injured multiple times. Mishandling this time could easily lead to habitual fractures—considering your usual level of activity, if such a situation arises, it could be fatal!"

Bruce sighed lightly. Only Alfred in all of Gotham City would reprimand him in such a strict tone, but Bruce wasn't angry because he knew Alfred always had his best interests at heart.

"So, just say it, Alfred. How long will it be before I have to take off the Batsuit?" Bruce asked.

"If I may suggest, it would be best, Master Bruce, if you refrained from wearing that suit for the rest of your life. To be honest, the situation in Gotham has improved a lot compared to a few years ago. You could try returning to a normal life," Alfred advised.

"No!" Bruce firmly rejected Alfred's concern and shook his head. "Recent calmness seems to harbor an undercurrent. If I vanish completely, many who previously hid due to fear will start stirring. This incident is the best lesson for us not to slack off!"

Seeing Bruce's resolute expression, Alfred shrugged helplessly, a look that indicated he had anticipated this response. In a low, unquestionable tone, he spoke:

"Then the shortest time would still be half a year. Within this period, Master Bruce, you absolutely cannot engage in strenuous activities. Otherwise, even if you're unwilling, you'll be forced to bid a final farewell to this second identity of yours, leaving potential problems behind."

Upon hearing Alfred's words, Bruce visibly displayed a troubled expression. However, he knew Alfred wouldn't joke or exaggerate about such matters. Since he provided this deadline, there was indeed no room for negotiation.

Bruce fell into contemplation, lightly supporting his chin with his hand, murmuring softly to himself, "Six months. During this time, Gotham cannot be left unguarded. Gordon's efforts alone aren't sufficient, and he stands in the light; there needs to be someone in the darkness."

"Nightwing and Red Robin won't do; they have their own tasks, and the Justice League is dealing solely with the issues in Metropolis and Coast City. Everyone is already too busy to divide their attention."

Ring, ring!

The crisp and urgent sound of the bell interrupted Bruce's thoughts.

"Oracle requests communication connection. Shall I proceed?"

Upon hearing the mechanical voice from the large screen, Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance, both wearing serious expressions.

At this early hour, such communication likely wasn't just for casual conversation.

"Proceed."

Buzz, buzz...

After a brief electric sound, a clear and magnetic female voice resonated in the Batcave.

"Good evening, Batman. I hope I'm not disturbing your recovery."

"Don't worry, Oracle, my injuries aren't a major issue—"

Bruce sensed Alfred's slightly stern gaze beside him. He cleared his throat and then spoke in a steady voice, "For a communication at this late hour, has something happened?"

The voice referred to as Oracle paused for a moment and then continued in a serious tone.

"One hour ago, the police received reports from Gotham's Old Town area about gunshots and a vehicle leaking poisonous gas. Upon arriving at the scene, the authorities found ten men in a delirious state and four bodies at a recycling station."

Bruce's pupils contracted, his voice growing deeper. "Have their identities been identified?"

"Through DNA matching, both the injured and the deceased were members of the Joker's gang three years ago, later serving other underground factions after Joker's demise. They were all deeply involved in bloodshed, no loss in their deaths."

Hearing the tremble in the other person's voice due to excitement, Bruce frowned.

"Oracle."

"And they managed to escape prison due to lack of evidence and lawyer bribery, even though they were scum deserving death a thousand times—"

"Barbara!"

Bruce's stern reprimand finally caused Oracle, or rather Barbara Gordon, to slightly calm down.

"Apologies, Batman, I got a bit too carried away."

"It's okay, Oracle. I understand your hatred toward them, but don't let it cloud your judgment—besides this, any other important intel?"

There was a moment of silence in Oracle's voice, followed by a hint of hesitation.

"The injured seem to have excessively inhaled a certain type of gas, severely affecting their mental states. Their testimonies are fragmented and lack coherent logic, but they're oddly consistent about one thing."

"They all claim the Joker's ghost has returned from hell and obtained demonic-like powers."

Upon hearing Oracle's words, Bruce, though seemingly composed, revealed his inner turmoil through the white-knuckled grip of his joints.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, then spoke in a composed tone. "I understand, Oracle. Later, send the autopsy report and testimonies. I'll discuss the next steps with Gordon."

"Your recovery isn't that swift. Maybe I should take action. My injuries have almost healed, and I can investigate the truth personally in Old Town."

"No!"

Bruce decisively interrupted Oracle's words.

"You've only recently recovered from your injury. I know post-rehabilitation for long-term paralysis takes a while. It's too risky for you to undertake missions during this time!"

Bruce pretended not to notice Alfred's knowing gaze beside him and continued in a somber tone.

"Let's leave the next steps temporarily to the Gotham Police. Trust Gordon, trust your father, Barbara; they will surely unravel the truth behind this."

°°°

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