Wayne paid no attention to the middle-aged Spider-Man.
He pulled open the truck door and had only just sat down when the red-and-blue figure naturally slipped into the passenger seat.
“Can I say this technically counts as grand theft auto? Sure, this truck was probably bought with the money that kid made selling drugs, but no matter how you look at it, it’s still stealing.” The moment Spider-Man sat down, his mouth never stopped moving.
“Of course, I’m not going to turn you over to the police. Otherwise, I have a feeling we’d both end up getting arrested.” Spider-Man gestured animatedly as he spoke.
“You’re a car thief, and I’m a homeless guy wearing a cheap Spider-Man suit.”
Wayne truly had nothing to say about Spider-Man’s complete lack of boundaries.
He could only hope that the look in his eyes would be enough to let Spider-Man know he really didn’t appreciate him tagging along.
“Hey, don’t give me that disapproving look, okay? I think you need a sidekick—someone like Robin.” As he said this, Spider-Man widened his mask’s large eye lenses into an intimidating expression.
He was deliberately imitating the Bat Family’s trademark menacing glare.
Seeing Wayne’s unchanging look of disapproval, Spider-Man finally let his eyes return to normal.
“Just think about it. I promise the advantages of having me around far outweigh the disadvantages.”
Spider-Man flexed his biceps to prove he would make an excellent partner.
“Robin doesn’t talk nearly as much as you do. Besides, I don’t need a Robin.”
Wayne had no intention of continuing the pointless banter.
He started the pickup truck.
“You don’t need a Robin? Then your favorite Batman definitely isn’t the mainstream comics version. Let me think… Do you like the Flashpoint Batman? Old Man Wayne? Or someone else?”
Spider-Man frowned in thought.
To be honest, he knew Batman from DC Comics quite well.
But after becoming Spider-Man himself, he no longer had the time to read comics carefully.
The fact that he still remembered a few of the more famous Batmen was already proof of a pretty good memory.
Listening to Spider-Man chatter nonstop beside him, Wayne realized for the first time that it wasn’t only women who could sound like three hundred ducks.
Men could be three hundred ducks too.
Or even six hundred.
Spider-Man alone was worth a thousand.
Thinking about all the Spider-Men who would eventually gather together, Wayne’s head started to ache.
There would be six Spider-Men.
Although two or three of them weren’t particularly talkative, someone would always stay true to their personality and keep talking without end.
“Shut up!”
In the end, Wayne slammed on the brakes.
“Okay, okay. You’re actually starting to scare me.”
Even though Spider-Man was trying his hardest not to talk, he still couldn’t help adding a few more words.
“Get out.”
Wayne no longer wanted to stay in the same confined space as this guy.
His tone was cold as he gave Spider-Man his marching orders.
“You’re telling me to get out of the car?”
Spider-Man pointed at his own mask in disbelief.
Never in his life had he imagined someone would actually dislike him enough to kick him out.
When he met Wayne’s gaze, however, he knew Wayne was serious.
He could only shrug.
“All right. You’re the boss. Your call.”
As he spoke, he opened the door and climbed out.
“But—”
Spider-Man had only just stepped out before trying to say something else, but the only response he got was the roar of the truck’s engine and a blast of exhaust.
“…Don’t forget to come back and pick me up… What an unbelievably bad listener.”
Spider-Man sighed helplessly.
Firing a web, he pulled himself onto the rooftop of a nearby building and carefully watched the direction Wayne was driving.
He still couldn’t stop worrying about that Batman fanatic.
While working with him earlier, his Spider-Sense had been giving him a constant, faint warning.
Wayne had never considered him someone he could trust.
He had been on guard against him the entire time.
“Let’s see what you’re really planning.”
Spider-Man felt the cold rooftop beneath his feet and tilted his head.
“Though first, it’d be nice to find our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man a pair of shoes.”
While Spider-Man searched for footwear that fit him, Wayne couldn’t help thinking that making him get out of the truck had been an excellent decision.
The whole world had finally become quiet.
Now he could finally begin his real operation.
Of course, Wayne also knew that completely shaking Spider-Man off was impossible.
After all, this was New York.
Spider-Man knew the city far better than he did.
By the time Wayne found Hell’s Kitchen, Spider-Man would probably already be there.
The only question was whether this world still had a certain blind lawyer spending his days here while casually fighting crime.
Thanks to Batman’s driving skills, Wayne could push the pickup to its maximum legal speed.
As for why he wasn’t simply speeding—
The pickup he was driving wasn’t exactly capable of escaping the NYPD if they decided to chase him.
“According to what that guy said, he comes to Hell’s Kitchen once every two days. The exact location changes, but it’s always roughly within the same area.”
As he drove, Wayne reviewed the truck’s turn-signal records.
He selected the two routes that appeared most frequently and ran countless simulations in his mind before narrowing down the approximate area he needed to search.
Before Wayne even reached Hell’s Kitchen, someone had already noticed the pickup.
As a regular visitor to Hell’s Kitchen, Black Guy’s truck was extremely familiar to the gatekeepers.
But familiarity did not lessen their vigilance.
They knew perfectly well that today wasn’t the agreed pickup date.
Even if the kid had already sold all his merchandise, they still wouldn’t let him into Hell’s Kitchen.
No one broke Hell’s Kitchen’s rules.
“Hey, kid, today isn’t—”
The man calling out to the pickup didn’t even finish speaking before he saw someone leap out of the moving vehicle.
The pickup never slowed down.
It drove straight toward Hell’s Kitchen.
“Oh, shit!”
The two men had no choice but to dive out of the truck’s path to save their own lives.
But they swore that if they ever ran into that Black Guy again, they were going to knock every last one of his teeth out.
It was already nighttime.
Still, they were certain they had just seen someone jump out of that pickup.
It was probably that damned Black Guy.
“Motherfucker! Javier, you all right?”
The man who had first shouted at the truck slowly got back to his feet, dusted himself off, and called to his partner.
The problem was, no one answered him.
The only response was the crackling sound of the pickup’s electrical system short-circuiting after crashing into a wall not far away.
“Don’t tell me you actually got hit by an out-of-control truck.”
Sensing something was wrong, he immediately drew the pistol at his waist and cautiously walked over.
“Hey, buddy. Say something.”
When he finally reached Javier, he discovered that his partner had already been knocked unconscious.
Just as he was about to check whether Javier was still breathing, a figure suddenly appeared before him.
The pitch-black mask, combined with the furious expression, made his legs go weak for an instant.
He even forgot to raise his gun.
Taking advantage of that brief lapse, Wayne seized the hand holding the pistol and smoothly applied a joint lock, snapping the man’s elbow with one motion.
Before the intense pain could even make him scream, Wayne slammed his head into the nearby wall.
The violent impact knocked him unconscious instantly.
The scream that was about to leave his mouth never came.
Taking the pistol from the unconscious man’s hand, Wayne expertly dismantled it into individual parts.
He casually tossed the smaller components into the sewer.
Missing even one or two pieces drastically reduced the chances of a homeless person finding the gun and getting it working again.
Raising his grappling gun, Wayne fired it toward the rooftop above.
Moments later, he vanished.
The sound of the crash had been impossible to ignore.
It had already drawn everyone’s attention.
What Wayne needed to do now was simple.
Find out where they were converging from.
A minor traffic accident wasn’t enough to attract everyone nearby.
But it was enough to reveal what Hell’s Kitchen looked like now.
Was it chaotic?
Or organized?
A chaotic Hell’s Kitchen would work in his favor.
If it was organized, it would take more time to deal with.
Not everything developed in the most favorable way Wayne hoped.
The crash had indeed attracted their attention.
People were already moving.
But they were moving in an organized fashion.
They even dispatched a patrol team to sweep the surrounding area, ensuring no one could launch a surprise attack.
Only then did they send people to investigate the accident.
“Our gatekeepers have been knocked out.”
After confirming that the two men lying on the ground were still alive, the investigator reported over his radio.
“They’re in pretty bad shape.”
“Do we have a hospital?”
The voice on the other end replied coldly.
“Understood.”
The man giving the report didn’t waste another word.
Without even blinking, he raised his gun and shot the two unconscious gatekeepers.
“Find out who’s picking a fight with us.”
With those final words, the person on the other end hung up.
Even though no one was listening anymore, the man still answered respectfully.
“Yes.”
“Looks like we’re going to be busy again.”
A man who seemed fairly close to the leader walked over.
Wayne watched everything unfold.
Hell’s Kitchen had clearly become a unified organization.
It was no longer the chaotic district it once had been.
Standing up, Wayne watched as they carried away their men, leaving not a single guard behind.
“Looks like the Hell’s Kitchen here isn’t quite the same as the one in my world.”
Spider-Man had witnessed everything as well.
In his world, the Kingpin had been the dominant force in Hell’s Kitchen, but no one had ever completely unified the district.
This world was different.
Hell’s Kitchen had been transformed into one organization’s private backyard.
“You know, I just realized something.”
Spider-Man suddenly looked at Wayne.
“Why are you so calm about me showing up?”
“But I really don’t think charging straight into Hell’s Kitchen like this is going to end well.”
Spider-Man truly hadn’t expected someone who appeared so calm and rational to use a car crash as his way of entering Hell’s Kitchen’s territory.
“I believe the sudden appearance of a Spider-Man will make everyone in Hell’s Kitchen very happy.”
Spider-Man had already prepared himself for Wayne to ignore him.
So when Wayne suddenly spoke, he was genuinely surprised.
But what did he mean by saying a Spider-Man appearing out of nowhere would make everyone in Hell’s Kitchen happy?
Everyone in Hell’s Kitchen wanted nothing more than to tear him to pieces.
“Another Spider-Man has appeared! Right here!”
Using his voice changer, Wayne perfectly mimicked the voice of one of the thugs he had overheard earlier.
The loud shout instantly shattered the calm night over Hell’s Kitchen.
Spider-Man had never been treated like this before.
Batman had just exposed him directly in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen’s criminal territory.
Just as Spider-Man was about to say something, Wayne casually tossed out a miniature smoke bomb.
The smoke concealed Wayne’s own figure while simultaneously pointing out Spider-Man’s location to everyone else.
By the time Spider-Man burst through the smoke, Wayne had already disappeared without a trace.
“Oh, come on. Not this again.”
At this point, Spider-Man no longer believed this guy was merely Batman’s biggest fan.
He honestly felt as though Batman himself had come to New York.
The way Wayne appeared and disappeared without warning, along with his habit of throwing gadgets without a second thought, was practically Batman copied exactly.
Wayne’s plan certainly had its flaws.
Even he couldn’t be sure who the thug whose voice he had imitated was currently with.
But all Wayne needed was to draw everyone’s attention here.
Besides, the smoke bomb he had thrown gave the gangsters an unmistakable marker.
“There he is!”
Someone with sharp eyes spotted the red-and-blue Spider-Man standing on the rooftop.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he raised his gun and opened fire.
The gunshots completely shattered the night’s silence.
They had long since received reports that Spider-Man was dead.
Even so, they refused to lower their guard.
Besides, dressing as Spider-Man in Hell’s Kitchen was itself an act of provocation.
“I knew I shouldn’t have followed you.”
Spider-Man could only dodge frantically to avoid being struck by the hail of bullets.
Wayne crouched silently atop a nearby water tower, watching everything unfold.
Hell’s Kitchen had become lively because of the gunfire.
Yet one particular location remained completely quiet.
If Wayne’s calculations were correct, that place should be where they stored both their merchandise and their cash flow.
The grappling gun fired.
The Bat swung toward his target.
(End of Chapter)