Chapter 66: Batman's Perspective You're really good at hiding it, Bruce. ...
Bruce Wayne is Batman.
This is a secret no one knows. For the people of Gotham, the possibility of this equation being true is extremely small. Perhaps for the residents of Metropolis, "Lex Luthor is Superman" is more believable, but that was before Luthor was imprisoned by Superman.
After all, everyone knows that he is a rich second-generation who is dissolute by nature and has an empty mind.
Bruce Wayne's extravagant, absurd lifestyle is almost as famous as his frail body and simple mind. Anyone who does a quick search or even asks around will find some fascinating evidence. Like the time he casually handed over a thousand dollars to a fan because he was too lazy to sign an autograph, or the time he was blacklisted by owner Cobblepot after publicly stripping at the Iceberg Diner...
All those who unexpectedly gained money and gossip from him and his deeds would smile when they heard his name or took the initiative to talk about these absurd deeds, and could not wait to further confirm that point.
Confirm everyone's consensus that "Bruce Wayne is indeed such a person."
And the stories they tell are often true.
These “true” voices overwhelm other “true” voices, pushing a wave that makes everyone more convinced of this “consensus,” and as they seek evidence—if they try—they will only find more evidence, which will make them more convinced.
That is, "They don't need to care about Wayne's affairs," and "Everything that happens around the name Bruce is so shallow and funny."
As for how Bruce Wayne juggled between boards of directors, how he juggled Wayne Technologies, Biotech, the Foundation... steel, food, chemical plants, and even aviation affairs; how he tirelessly attended every charity event he was invited to, as long as he could make time for it...
As long as he can make time. Bruce can even start a day of work with just a phone call, and at the end of the day?
He can open a whole new subsidiary.
He can also carve out time in his schedule to share insights with his colleagues in the company.
Bruce Wayne, in fact, is a genius with great business acumen, foresight, negotiation talent, as well as amazing determination and high concentration.
This is the part of "truth" that has been suppressed.
No one realizes this except those who are very, very close to him; no one talks about this, perhaps because there is a mysterious force that is always searching and filtering the comments posted on the Internet, ensuring that Bruce Wayne's image is always surrounded by intoxicating alcohol and flying money, because the more this is the case, the less likely people will associate him with Batman - even though almost everyone knows that Bruce is Batman's sponsor and that Batman and Bruce have a close relationship - the less likely people will think that Bruce Wayne is Batman.
After all, he is just a "rich second generation with a dissolute nature and an empty mind."
If it is difficult to find a guy who is truly willing to do charity among ten rich second generations, and it is very likely that there is a guy who is truly willing to do charity among a hundred rich second generations, then among a thousand rich second generations, there will not be such a guy who is willing to do charity so much as to put on a uniform and go out in the dark of night, inflicting punches and kicks as cold as the north wind on criminals, and show the most gentle and considerate comfort and hugs to children and innocent victims... Bruce Wayne.
After all, he has so much money!
Even if he just lay there on a mountain of gold and silver and did nothing, he could live a carefree life. Why would he do that? Does Gotham really deserve such a hero?
Gotham, this swamp of sin. Victims who have lost everything take up arms to retaliate against society, causing even more to lose their lives, their families, and those they cherish. The children and families left behind suffer misfortune. Tragedy marks the lives of Gotham residents. Even without human-caused accidents, other disasters await. Divorce, death, loss, disability, and more death...
The grayish-black gloom briefly enveloped Commissioner Gordon. But warm white steam rose from the orange mug in his hand. The night breeze rustled the leaves of the plants and tall trees in his yard. Bright stars twinkled against the black sky.
Just like Batman's eyes, covered by a white film. If Gordon could see his eyes.
"I know you're there," he said.
As he spoke, the yard was empty, but soon, Batman emerged from the shadows behind the trees.
"I'm just passing through." Batman replied in his low, hoarse voice.
"Of course," Gordon said, with false assurance, "you 'pass' around here every night."
If he hadn't been preoccupied, he would have laughed out loud, teasing his shadowy friend even further. But Commissioner Gordon wasn't in the mood tonight. And he had a reason to call out Batman. "Do you remember Professor Hal Corbett? About ten years ago."
"The Francis Church hostage situation?"
"right."
Gordon was only a captain at the time. Corbett's wife and three-year-old son had been killed in a car accident that morning. A frantic Corbett stormed into the Franciscan Cathedral and took seven people, including the bride and groom, hostage at gunpoint as they celebrated a wedding.
Gordon had no allies, and the department's negotiator had been laid off due to budgetary constraints. He tried to communicate with Corbett through a loudspeaker, but all he could hear was a madman reciting Byron. Just as Gordon, desperate and ready to let his men break through (at least a few hostages could make it out alive), Batman appeared.
He asks Gordon to trust him.
And Gordon chose to let him give it a try.
"I remember," Batman said.
"He's back." Gordon sat down on the bench in the yard, looking old and tired. "Corbett, he left a message for me. He said he owed us two."
Batman read his subtext, "You think he wants revenge?"
Gordon asked in return, "Don't you think so?"
Batman didn't answer directly. He remained silent. The night wind blew past them, gently caressing the two Gotham Knights who had fought so fiercely for ten years.
"This is the price of our battles, Jim," Batman said.
Gordon shook his head. "That's too high a price to pay."
Perhaps this is the reward Gotham has prepared for them. They fight day and night, trying to protect people from harm; but after all, they are not gods, there will always be parts that are missed, parts that are powerless. And those who are not successfully protected or saved by them often become their enemies.
Tragedy repeats itself over and over again, like a rock sliding down a mountain, with no end in sight. They all know this, yet every time the rock rolls back down, they still choose to push it back up.
Every time the bat light comes on.
A familiar sound seemed to echo from the distant rooftop of the Gotham Police Department. The batlight illuminated the night sky. Batman jerked his head up, and beside him, Gordon leaped from his chair, his previous fatigue and emotion almost instantly vanishing.
They stared at each other briefly for a second.
As everyone knows, that's the Gotham Police Department—it's basically what Commissioner Gordon uses to call Batman. But Gordon is right there with him.
So who broke into the police station and turned on the calling light?
Gordon nearly dropped his mug as he rushed inside. "I'll see you there."
He didn't get a response from Batman. He didn't waste time looking back, because he knew Batman must be on his way. Gordon hurriedly pulled on his police jacket, stuffed his arms into it with difficulty, grabbed the key on the porch and rushed out of the house to the police station.
When he and his men arrived at the rooftop, there was no unusual movement behind the door except for the sound of the bat lights. But this was unusual enough. Gordon didn't wait any longer and rushed through the door with his gun raised. "What the hell is going on here?!"
Sure enough, standing next to the bat lantern was Professor Corbett. This didn't surprise Gordon at all. His men immediately surrounded him as planned, but what surprised Gordon was that Corbett was standing next to a visibly startled woman, and in his arms sat a little girl with wide eyes.
"Please, Chief," Corbett said, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He used his free hand to comfort the woman standing beside him, "I just..."
But before he could finish, the little girl hugged Corbett's neck tightly and screamed, "Daddy!"
They turned away together. Batman emerged from the shadows. "Corbett. What do you want to do?"
The situation was tense. But if this man, whose crimes Gordon and Batman had helped prevent, was here to exact revenge, there was no need for him to brazenly send himself to the police station rooftop, surrounded by Batman and Gotham Police Department personnel without any protection.
unless……
"I just wanted to thank you," Corbett swallowed, "you two."
Batman froze.
"...Years ago, when I was in that church," Corbett put the girl in his arms down on the ground. She looked at Batman standing there curiously. "I gave up on my life. My wife and son were killed suddenly that morning, and the grief took away my sanity..."
He brought up that incident, perhaps because he thought Commissioner Gordon and Batman had long forgotten it. After all, it was a small incident long ago, with no casualties and no super-criminals of such evil and hatred being born.
It was a small thing, a daily occurrence in Gotham.
But Gordon and Batman both remember it.
"But you stopped me and saved me from that madness," Corbett said. "And then... the grief gradually passed."
As time went by, the grief faded. He moved away from Gotham and built a new life in California. At first, he was reluctant to talk about what had happened, the pain, the stain on his record—after all, he had almost killed someone—but then, gradually, he realized how lucky he was to have been stopped in time.
He didn't become a criminal. He was given the chance to start a new life and a new family. He returned to Gotham with his family, filled with gratitude, hoping to tell Gordon and Batman how much he really, really appreciated what they had done for him.
As he spoke, Commissioner Gordon slowly lowered the muzzle of his gun and finally put it into his coat pocket.
A night illuminated by bat lights can occasionally be a Christmas Eve like this.
"This is my wife, Leslie Becker-Corbett."
The blonde-haired woman smiled and shook Gordon's hand. "Nice to meet you, Chief."
Corbett looked at them, a smile on his face. "And my daughter, Dinah."
Batman crouched down to accommodate the boy's height. Now, Dinah could finally look Gotham's Dark Knight in the eye. She carefully studied the dark figure, including his smile.
Without even noticing, Dinah gradually emerged from her father's shadow. She looked at Batman curiously, and then made a startling discovery.
"You don't seem very scary..." Dinah thought and laughed, "Not at all!"
She joyfully opened her hand to Batman, and the nocturnal representative of terror gently took her hand and softly replied, "I think so."
Gordon smiled too. He relaxed, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. The officers he had brought up had already withdrawn and stood by the railing. He looked at the family with a rare calm and joy. The night ended like this. Dinah leaned on Corbett's shoulder and waved to them, calling out, "Good night!"
Perhaps this is the true reward Gotham has given Batman. A new family. A new life. New...hope.
Because that's what Batman brings to Gotham. That's what Bruce Wayne brings to Gotham.
This boy, who lost his parents at the age of eight, sat alone in a dark alley in terror and panic, surrounded by a pool of blood, a broken pearl necklace, and the gradually fading bodies of his parents for ninety minutes...
It was at that time and in that place that Bruce Wayne made a promise to himself, which was—
What happened to him would never happen to anyone else.
Bruce is dedicating and will dedicate his life to this cause.
Normally, when he thought about this, Batman would feel a heavy weight. It was the heavy weight of the responsibility that weighed on his shoulders. But tonight, when Bruce returned to the Batcave, he felt a sense of relief and joy that he hadn't felt in a long time.
He dropped his cape and armor along the way and tiptoed over to the Batcomputer - Alfred held up his discarded clothes, but raised his index finger to him with his free hand as a sign of silence - and when Bruce got there, he found Tim slumped over in the Batchair, snoring softly and tiredly in a strange, sprawled position, one hand resting on the back of the chair, one leg stretched out from the gap between the armrest and the seat.
The blanket covering him was almost thrown to the ground by him.
But Bruce watched it all with a smile. Quietly, he picked up the blanket and pulled it up, covering Tim's chin again. The teen stirred restlessly in his sleep, but didn't wake, even when Bruce tucked his hands and feet back under the blanket.
After doing all this, Bruce looked at the Batcomputer.
Elliot Shelt's file was displayed there.
It wasn't the file of the currently active assassin "Elliot Smith," but the file of the ten-year-old boy "Elliot Shelt" who had escaped from an orphanage several years ago. In it, Bruce clearly recorded the boy's brief and clear life until he was ten, as well as all the important events he encountered after that.
Of course, this included Bruce's own infiltration into the orphanage, where he infiltrated the investigation into their collusion with the Black Gang. He received a tip as Batman, then investigated and cleaned up the matter as Wayne's staffer, restoring the protection the children in the orphanage deserved. This also included Bruce's allocation of funds to establish a scholarship program, allowing many children with excellent grades and character, who simply lacked a little gold, to further their education and become better versions of themselves—even if their goal was to leave Gotham and never return.
That's not important. As long as they can escape the curse of Gotham, as long as there is one less child dropping out of school to work, as long as there is one less potential future criminal in Gotham...
Bruce was already satisfied.
This isn't just for Elio. But it's also for Elio.
While the child wasn't noticing—and many people weren't—Batman was watching, watching over him.
Bruce secretly observed and cared for this boy who had escaped from the orphanage to investigate his parents' deaths, hoping there was a mystery behind it that he could investigate and seek revenge, just like caring for a part of himself back then. But he didn't worry about Elio as much as Alfred worried about him. Perhaps it was because he realized that this was a smart boy, or perhaps it was because on that rainy night, he and an assassin who called himself Smith witnessed Harvey Dent's self-chosen death together.
Deep down, Bruce knew that this kid would find a way, a path… a peace of his own.
He would kill, yes, but Elio would not be an avenger, an executioner, a criminal.
He won't.
He seemed to know what he was doing, and Bruce thought that was enough. He wasn't arrogant enough to judge the way others did things. Even about his own way of doing things, Batman often had doubts and hesitations in his heart - rather, it was only about his own way that Batman would have such heavy uncertainty and criticism.
Did he do the right thing? Did he do enough? Or did he do too much, interfere too much, so that so many criminals were born around him in Gotham? Or did he do too little, too little control, so that those criminals dared to hurt his family... so that his children would be seriously injured...
Only those closest to Batman, his closest family and friends, know that Batman often feels confused about this, especially when he has disputes with his children and his children are hurt.
This led to the fact that, although Bruce briefly considered adopting Elio, those thoughts quickly faded. Bruce had too much to deal with. Dick soon ran away from home in anger, moving to the neighboring town of Blüdhaven (only a half-hour drive away, actually), determined to start his own vigilante career. Jason soon appeared in his life, and Bruce was troubled by him for a long time, but also regretted and suffered even more because Jason's life hadn't caused him as much trouble as Bruce had hoped.
…Until Tim came to visit, and even for a while after Tim came to his side, Bruce had a hard time getting over the pain of losing Jason.
Under these circumstances, Bruce couldn't even consider adopting Elio. Perhaps it would be better if he didn't get involved, Bruce thought. So, without his involvement, Elio went to Bludhaven to study on his own. He grew up so quickly that Bruce didn't even notice, but Bruce thought it was a good result.
He let his guard down, partly because Batman believed that Blüdhaven was Nightwing's territory.
…and then, tragedy struck again.
But no one is to blame. No one could have imagined that this would happen. And soon after all that happened, the Assassins arrived at Batman's invitation and found Elio before the Templars did, taking the child under their protection.
He seemed to struggle with this life at first. But soon, Elio began to show talents that had nothing to do with filling out exams or writing essays. Batman couldn't tell if it was the curse of Gotham, the lessons he'd learned from his childhood on the streets, or the assassins in his blood; there were moments when Batman was secretly horrified by Elio's "talents."
But he still didn't get involved, partly because his children got involved first.
Dick was the one who noticed Elio first. He'd spent the entire night searching the Blüdhaven River, trying to find—or rather, trying not to find—Elliot's body. He didn't say it out loud, but Bruce knew Dick was upset that he hadn't been able to catch Elio after he'd jumped.
If he wasn't an assassin, then Dick would have missed the opportunity to save an innocent life.
Fortunately, Dick later found an opportunity to make up for it. He found a chance to help and take care of Elio, and Bruce could sense that Dick's mood calmed down a lot because of it.
And on the night Alvin missed his appointment at Blüdhaven because of the siege by Hydra, Batman fought alongside him. For their students. And for Gotham.
Next came Jason. Bruce wasn't surprised, having trained with the assassins years before. At least, he seemed in good spirits when he returned. Bruce didn't ask any further questions, nor did he inquire about what they'd learned, just as he hadn't questioned, "Did he really fall down on his own?" long ago.
After all, there are enough heroes in this world. A few outlaws won't hurt either.
So Bruce wasn't too surprised when Jason volunteered to get involved in the assassin's investigation. At least, not as surprised as he was when he learned he'd gone to Tamaran to help fight the war. Maybe that's just how kids grow up, developing new interests (wearing a helmet with facial features? Seriously?), making new friends, going off to fight wars on alien planets...it's all normal, Bruce thought.
Then there's Tim.
He most likely didn't remember Elio, Bruce had tested him. But perhaps some memory and feeling remained, making the child pay close attention to Elio. Before Tim realized what was going on, he mistook this attention for curiosity and wariness. After all, Tim had never dealt with an assassin before.
(If you don't count the assassins from the League of Assassins. And Bruce couldn't say what impression they made on Tim.)
"So you've known him for a long time." The troubled voice of the teenager sounded behind him. "You hid it really well, Bruce."
Bruce smiled slightly. He turned around and saw Tim still rubbing his eyes.
"You even created two different profiles," Tim complained. "One for the Brotherhood, and one for Gotham characters. Seriously?"
"If that's why you didn't find Elliot Shelt," Bruce raised an eyebrow, "I can only say that your reconnaissance skills need improvement."
Tim was completely awake now. He stared at Bruce with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe he could say such a thing. Because, in fact, Bruce had kept the Shelt file as well-kept as the Watch's file (Tim: Wait, what is the Watch?).
If Tim hadn't suddenly remembered an adventure he had as a child, and further suspected that Batman might have seen Elio as a child a long time ago, and then further suspected that Batman had some record of this - then, Tim took advantage of Batman chatting with Gordon and quietly sneaked into the Batcave to investigate.
If it weren't for this, he might not have found the file at all. Moreover, it took him quite some time to decode it. Really. He had just finished reading the file, contentedly enjoying the fruits of his victory... when he accidentally fell asleep.
"You really need to go back to bed, Tim." Bruce smiled, "But I guess there's something you want to tell me."
Tim did have a lot of questions he wanted to ask Bruce, like "Do you remember all that?" and "Have you been watching him?" But the file labeled "Elliot Shelt" had already silently answered those questions.
Finally, Tim relaxed back into the bat chair, folded his arms, and rested them behind his head.
"How do you feel?" Tim asked, "about all of this?"
The world's second-best detective managed to gain the upper hand at this moment, and he watched with satisfaction as a flash of surprise crossed Bruce's eyes.
"I think... it's not bad." Bruce leaned on the edge of the table and thought for a moment. "Yeah. I think it's all good. You may not know this, but there were times when I considered adopting him."
Tim raised his eyebrows and was about to speak.
"But you know, during that time..." Bruce lowered his head and chose his words, "There was a period of time when our entire family was not very happy. Well, mainly me."
Tim knew what he was talking about. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking at Bruce with cautious concern.
"I doubt I'm cut out for parenting or education." Bruce looked up and gave him a reassuring smile. "But you...but you've proven the opposite."
"You're the best person in all of Gotham to raise and educate us, Bruce," Tim said confidently, pulling his arm from behind his head and draping it across his legs. "Maybe even in the world."
Bruce nodded seriously. "I'll just pretend I've forgotten about you creating a fake uncle for yourself so I wouldn't have any reason to adopt you."
"...That's totally different!" Tim yelled, blushing. "I was trying to—"
In order to continue to work with Batman as an equal, Bruce himself knows this.
"I know," Bruce said. "I'm proud of you."
Tim buried his flushed face in the blanket silently. A warm hand touched his head.
"Elio doesn't know what he's missing," Tim said glumly, trying to change the subject. "Maybe he could have been family to us."
"Perhaps. Perhaps he could have been our family," Bruce said patiently. "But now, he can still be our friend. Besides, his bloodline determines that Elio will become an assassin; or, at least, he needs the guidance of an assassin. These are all things I can't give him."
Tim raised his head from the blankets.
"Alvin taught him," Bruce said, "and in the process, Elio found himself. I think that's pretty good."
At this point, he smiled slightly. For the little spark of hope that Elio brought to Gotham, and for the little girl Dinah who said goodnight to him earlier today... For all those he had seen and cared for, for all those who had escaped the cycle of sin...
Good hope and future.
"Yeah," Tim agreed, "that's pretty good."
Even for Elio, who knew nothing, this was a pretty good story. He didn't know that Batman had been watching him, nor did he know that Batman had helped him before - well, he did have such a suspicion, but he just couldn't find any solid evidence - but when he walked out of the basement clinic and stretched, Elio felt particularly relaxed and happy.
Even the fact that his spleen had been stabbed a few days ago could not affect his relaxed and happy mood.
"Okay," Elio said to himself, "enough rest. Let me think about what to do next."
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Author's Note: *This chapter contains many details from comics such as the game "Gotham Knights", Detective Comics, "Batman: Turning Point", "Knight Shock: Batman #2", "Batman v1", "Red Hood and the Outlaws v1&v2", etc.
(I think there are some left, but I can’t do any more research… I feel like I’m paralyzed…)
Originally, a reader asked if Batman knew Oreos. I wanted to briefly explain it in the Author's Comments, but it got longer and longer and ended up becoming a sequel.jpg
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