The Batcave was quiet.
Batman sat on the medical chair, his expression grim as Alfred worked methodically on him, stitching the cuts across his body.
When he finished, Alfred stepped back, inspecting his work.
“Eleven knife cuts in a single night,” he said calmly.
“That is a record, Master Bruce.” Batman exhaled slowly.
“Thank you, Alfred.” Nearby, Robin and Batgirl stood watching, their earlier shock replaced with a more contemplative silence.
Robin finally broke the quiet.
“I still can’t believe a butler did all this to you.” Batgirl frowned, her gaze fixed on Batman.
“You fought him before,” she said.
“What changed this time?” Batman remained still for a moment before answering.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted.
“But it felt as though he was adapting during the fight at alarming speed.
He became faster and more skilled the longer we engaged.” Robin crossed his arms, thinking.
“So… is he a meta-human?” “It’s possible,” Batman replied, “but what I faced didn’t feel like a meta ability.
It was pure skill and physical conditioning pushed to a high level.” He lowered his head, recalling the details.
“He used forks.
And dinner knives.” Alfred paused for a brief moment.
“That is… an unusual choice of weapon.” Batman nodded.
“He also hesitated to use the knives at first,” he continued.
“For a reason that was…” he stopped, as if considering the correct word to use, “ridiculous.” Batgirl tilted her head.
“What reason?” Alfred spoke before Batman could answer, his tone thoughtful.
“Did he wish to avoid staining the carpet or damaging the office?” All three of them looked at him.
Alfred continued, “If I were to engage in such a confrontation and had the option, I would prefer to avoid unnecessary damage to the surroundings.
Particularly something like a carpet.” Robin blinked.
“That’s… only you.” Batman shook his head.
“No,” he said.
“That’s exactly what he said.” Robin stared.
“Wait what?
Really?” Batgirl’s expression shifted as she considered it.
“Everything about him is strange,” she said.
“Everything he says sounds absurd… but what if he isn’t lying?
What if he really is just… a lunatic with an extremely advanced skill set?” Batman shook his head again.
“Even if that were true,” he said, “it doesn’t explain how he knew about Alfred.
Claiming he could smell it is just a blatant lie.” “Maybe he’s got the most useless meta ability ever,” Robin said.
“The ability to smell other butlers and recognize their age.” Alfred hummed quietly, folding his medical kit away.
“I must admit, I am rather curious about this individual,” he said.
“He shares both my name and my profession, and apparently can switch to Victorian English when agitated.” Batman’s expression remained hard.
“I have a bad feeling about him.” Alfred looked at him, tone shifting into firmness.
“Master Bruce, I would advise you to take a day or two of rest until your wounds have properly healed.
Excessive movement may reopen them.” Batman gave a small nod.
“I won’t do anything rash,” he said.
Then, after a brief pause “I need to prepare for the next time I face him.” ——— The next day, Sebastian, using the excuse of working on a specialized weapon, left the Penguin side.
After days of constant activity, he intended to enjoy himself, to walk the city, observe, and relax without the burden of playing a butler.
Before that, however, there was one matter he needed to settle.
The Gotham Central Bank.
He had spent the morning finalizing documents to ensure that his identity as Sebastian Michaelis was not only recognized but fully integrated into the financial system.
A proper account, legitimate access, and clean records were necessary if he intended to operate long-term without unnecessary complications.
When he was finally done with account registration and left to the bank main avenue, he came face to face with someone he did not expect.
Barbara Gordon.
Sebastian said, “Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” “Same,” Barbara replied.
“What are you doing here?” Sebastian tilted his head, adopting a thoughtful expression.
“Good question,” he said.
“Let’s see… I’m not here to rob the place, which leaves us with one option, I require a service from this bank.” Barbara gave him a flat look.
“That’s not funny.” “Rude,” Sebastian replied.
“I’m trying.” Before the exchange could continue, another voice joined in from the side.
“Hello there.
I believe this is my first time seeing you.” Sebastian turned his head and found himself facing a middle-aged man with graying hair.
Barbara spoke first.
“Dad, this is the library guy I told you about.” Sebastian extended his hand with a smile.
“Ah, Commissioner Gordon.
I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” Gordon shook his hand with a faint smile.
“Yes, Barbara mentioned I’m known as the ‘decent uptight guy.'” Sebastian glanced at Barbara.
“Did you have to share it word for word?” Barbara shrugged lightly.
“We’re close.” Gordon chuckled.
“Relax.
I find ‘decent uptight’ to be a refreshing compliment.” “Well,” Sebastian said, “seeing you in person, I can say the ‘decent’ part was accurate.
The ‘uptight’… I’m not convinced anymore.” Gordon seemed amused by his words.
Sebastian continued, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commissioner.
I won’t intrude on your father-daughter time any longer.
Have a nice day.” He turned, ready to leave.
Then… Gunfire.
The sound echoed from the bank’s entrance.
Both Gordon and Barbara reacted instantly, turning toward the source with alerted expressions.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
A group of masked men rushed into the bank, their movements coordinated as they spread out, shouting and firing into the air to assert control.
Sebastian’s gaze shifted briefly toward Gordon and Barbara.
Then back to the chaos.
[Of course.
Those two are bad luck magnets] Sebastian thought to himself.
“By any chance, Barbara” he said, “are you planning to work here?
Or applying for a position?” Barbara looked back at him.
“What?” “I have a strong suspicion that bad luck follows you,” Sebastian clarified.
“It’s not the time for jokes,” she said, annoyed.
“I’m not joking,” he replied.
The commissioner didn’t pay them any attention, his eyes were focused on the entrance.
“Bane…” he muttered.
“Why is he robbing a bank?” Bane stood at the entrance, wearing a distinctive wrestler outfit.
He gestured toward his men, directing them, before his gaze locked onto the trio.
Then he began walking toward them.
“Commissioner Gordon,” he said.
“I didn’t expect to find you here.” Gordon met his gaze.
“Why are you robbing a bank?” he asked.
“This isn’t your usual kind of crime.” “A change of pace,” Bane replied.
He extended his hand.
“Commissioner.
Your gun.
There is no need to make this ugly.
Many people could die.” Gordon hesitated for only a brief moment before drawing his weapon and handing it over.
Bane took it and casually tossed it to one of his subordinates.
Then his attention shifted.
First to Barbara.
“She must be your daughter.” Then to Sebastian.
“And who are you?
Police?
A friend of the commissioner’s daughter?” “Just your everyday citizen,” Sebastian answered.
“No relation.
In fact, this is my first time meeting the commissioner.” He paused briefly, then added, as if making a reasonable request, “By any chance, would you mind if I simply continue my day while you proceed with… whatever this is?
I have a very malnourished nobody I need to check upon, and I’m sure someone of your standing wouldn’t mind one less nobody as a hostage.” Barbara and Gordon both looked at him as if he had just said something completely incomprehensible.
Bane tilted his head, observing their reactions.
“Their expressions suggest otherwise,” he said.
“Are you a coward?” “Yes, yes, I am a coward” Sebastian replied immediately.
He glanced at the two beside him, then added in a flat tone, “You are thinking something rude, aren’t you?” Bane’s gaze hardened, he spoke with a tone carrying open contempt.
“I despise nothing more than a disloyal coward who turns his back on his friends the moment things become difficult, someone like you does not deserve to live.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“Friends?
Which part of my words was unclear to you?” “I saw you shake his hand with my own eyes,” Bane replied, taking a step closer.
“Yes,” Sebastian said.
“That is what a proper person does when meeting someone else, we handshake, we don’t slam dunk them.
Do you not live among humans?” “Bane, he is telling the truth,” Commissioner Gordon interjected quickly, attempting to de-escalate the situation.
“Do not bother defending him,” Bane replied coldly.
“I have eyes to see.” Sebastian let out a quiet breath.
“I will take that as confirmation that I am staying here as a hostage.” “No,” Bane said, his voice dropping.
“I will send you to your maker.” Sebastian nodded.
“You know, I expected initially the worst response to be a simple ‘no.’ Perhaps a laugh at my expense.” Bane moved again, extending his hand to seize him.
The commissioner also moved, stepping closer to save the young man.
But Sebastian moved faster.
In a single motion, one hand intercepted Bane’s wrist, stopping the grab mid-action, while his other hand drew a concealed pistol from his side and brought it up, pressing it directly against Bane’s throat.
The movement was so fast it barely registered.
Commissioner Gordon, Barbara and even Bane were taken off guard by the sudden movement.
Especially Bane.
The unassuming man, the one who had moments ago declared himself a coward and acted as such, now held a gun against his throat.
“Since I cannot leave this place in peace,” Sebastian said, “how about you and your men leave it?” Bane tilted his head, as if processing the absurdity of the situation.
“Do you believe you can take me hostage?” he began.
The gun shifted swiftly.
Sebastian fired into Bane’s shoulder, then immediately returned the barrel to his throat.
Bane’s expression twisted with anger.
“You bastard…!” At the same time, every one of his nearby subordinates raised their weapons, aiming directly at Sebastian.
Sebastian smiled faintly.
“Let us consider our options.
First, I kill you before you can react, and your men kill me in return.
You die at the hands of a nobody.
That is not a particularly dignified end, is it?” Bane opened his mouth to respond, but Sebastian cut him off.
“Hold on.
I am still speaking.” A brief pause.
“The second option,” Sebastian continued, “you call your men off.
You live.
You walk away.
You conduct another heist some other day.
And I return to my quiet life as a nobody.” He tilted his head.
“We all win.” He smiled.
“Your turn.” Bane’s eyes darkened.
“I could order my men to kill everyone in this bank.” “And?” Sebastian replied.
“I am a coward, remember?” “Sebastian, calm down,” Gordon said urgently.
“There are too many lives at risk.” “Yes,” Sebastian said, his tone unchanged.
“Including mine.” His gaze remained fixed on Bane.
“So, how would you like to proceed?
Either way, I win.
Alive or dead.” Bane stared at him in silence for a long moment, studying his expression, searching for hesitation or fear, but found none.
“You are not a coward,” Bane said at last.
“You are a deceitful man with no pride.” “Yes, yes” Sebastian replied without hesitation.
“I am a deceitful man with no pride.
Now choose.
I am already running late.
Do we die, or do we live?” Something in that calm demeanor unsettled Bane more than the weapon at his throat.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Are you with the police?” Sebastian rolled his eyes.
“How many times must I repeat myself?
I am not a policeman.
I am not affiliated with the commissioner.
I am nobody.
If you leave alive, go check on your eyes and ears, your state is rather concerning.” Bane held his gaze, uncertain.
At the very least, one thing was clear, this man was not ordinary.
But he was also someone unknown, a person not worth dying to.
To fall here, in a bank, at the hands of an unknown civilian, it would be nothing but disgrace.
Bane made his decision.
“Bring in the armored vehicles,” he ordered loudly.
His men hesitated for only a moment before moving to comply.
Bane shifted his attention back to Sebastian.
“Your name is Sebastian?” he said.
“I will remember it.” “Please don’t,” Sebastian replied.
“I get scared easily.” Bane let out a short, dismissive breath.
Within moments, the operation shifted.
The men inside the bank began retreating, regrouping outside as three armored vehicles rolled into position on the avenue.
Sebastian glanced toward them, mildly curious.
“Where did you acquire those?” he asked.
“They appear to be military-grade… Do you have access to tanks as well?” [If criminals have access to tanks in Gotham, I might be able to drive one and even fire shells.] Sebastian thought.
“I am not telling you anything,” Bane replied.
“Pray that we do not meet again.” Sebastian looked at him for a moment, his expression going completely blank.
“On second thought,” he said, “I believe I am now very interested in you.” For a brief instant, Bane felt uneasy.
The look on Sebastian’s face was wrong.
Then it vanished, replaced once again by the relaxed smile.
“Your men are leaving,” Sebastian said lightly.
“It is time for you to follow them.
It was nice meeting you.” Sebastian released Bane’s arm and withdrew the gun from his throat.
Bane brought his free hand to his shoulder, gripping the bleeding wound tightly.
His expression hardened, and for a brief moment, the intent to retaliate was unmistakable.
But the moment passed.
He had already lost too much blood.
This was not the time.
Not the place.
Deep down, the decision had already been made, this was not over.
Whatever this encounter had been, it would not end here.
Without another word, Bane turned and walked away.
He exited the bank and moved toward the armored vehicles waiting outside, entering one of them as his men regrouped around him.
Sebastian remained where he stood, watching as the vehicles began to move and once they were gone, he said “That was unnecessarily scary, I really should have stayed in Central City instead of coming to this hellhole.” Commissioner Gordon turned to him immediately.
“What you did was extremely reckless.” Sebastian glanced at him.
“I defended myself,” he replied.
“He was about to kill me for asking a question.” “You asked Bane to let you leave while he was holding the entire place hostage,” Gordon said.
“You should have remained silent.” “First time being taken as a hostage,” Sebastian said with a sincere face.
“Next time someone takes a building and I am inside, I will not ask them anything.
My apologies for the inconvenience.” Due to the sincere look on Sebastian’s face, the commissioner was not sure if he was being sincere or sarcastic.
Barbara gave him a look that carried both disbelief and irritation.
“You actually bought a gun,” she said.
“And now you’re just carrying it around?” “Of course,” Sebastian replied.
“I take my safety seriously, and as you can see, it served its purpose.” He paused briefly, then added, “Also, in a way, I stopped the heist.
That should make me a local hero, no?” Barbara stared at him for a second before answering flatly, “No.” Sebastian replied.
“You are a difficult one to please.” He adjusted his glasses, already turning as if the matter had concluded.
“Anyway, I will be on my way and hope that the large gentleman forgets about me.” “You are not going anywhere,” Gordon said firmly.
“You will be coming with me to the police station.” Sebastian stopped and turned back, frowning.
“Huh?
Why?” “Even if what you did was in self-defense and ended without any accidents,” Gordon replied, “you still played an active role in this incident.
You need to come with me.
It is a typical procedure” Sebastian looked at him in silence for a moment, then shifted his gaze toward Barbara.
“I blame you for this mess,” he said.