Night always fell quickly in Gotham. Perhaps it was due to past experiences, or maybe it was a problem inherited from his father's genes, but Silo was actually very skilled at hiding and disguising himself.
You see, at the very beginning, his friend was someone he'd secretly snuck off to meet in another city, hiding it from the parental figures.
But if you asked Silo himself, he'd say he was just a bit rebellious. His dad told him not to go out, so he was determined to run away from home just to spite him.
Although he was eventually found out, that period of experience taught Silo a valuable lesson.
—When you don't have enough power, you should learn to hide, not stand foolishly out in the open.
Back then, Silo could still casually nibble on Kryptonite here and there, and even he—not yet the most powerful person—couldn't act without restraint. Now, with not even a speck of Kryptonite dust to be found here, Silo would only be more careful.
Being reckless was one thing, but walking straight into a dead end was just stupidity.
His father always liked to let out a scoff, as if mocking someone, before warning him: "Don't inherit the foolish arrogance of the other half of your genetic makeup. Everyone in the world has weaknesses—even someone as powerful as a Kryptonian fears a small stone."
"Being cautious doesn't mean being cowardly. Under the threat of survival, even the weakest person can unleash astonishing power that surprises you. You need to have a clear self-awareness, learn to observe and calculate, and don't be like that foolish Kryptonian…"
Silo suddenly slapped his own head, then shook it, trying to shake the water out of his brain.
"This is the downside of having too good a memory—it feels like Lex is right here nagging me." The curly-haired teenager muttered in displeasure.
Once his emotions began to fluctuate, Silo's attention would drift slightly. By the time he snapped back to reality, his feet were already dangling in the air, half a meter off the ground.
This was the downside of being born with superpowers—when his attention wandered, he couldn't quite control himself.
Silo instinctively used his X-ray vision to scan his surroundings, confirming there were no surveillance cameras nearby before letting out a sigh of relief—but after doing all that, Silo's face scrunched up again. He realized this was Lex's habit. He'd been brainwashed by Lex's nagging, and his instincts had chosen the safest method.
Even though he knew Lex was right about everything, and even though he'd originally thought the same way himself, actually acting according to Lex's way of thinking made Silo feel like hundreds of Harleys were crawling all over him.
"If I can't find Kryptonite today, then I'll use the last of my strength to go to the Middle East again and punch that guy in the face." Having made this decision, Silo expanded his X-ray vision range.
Gotham was a city that didn't welcome Kryptonians. Countless layers of lead blocked Silo's vision, and that was before considering that Silo was now practically weakened—his Super Vision, which could once see half the globe, now struggled to see the entire city.
The one benefit of his weakened powers was that playing the role of an ordinary person came to him effortlessly now. No one would ever suspect that a Kryptonian was hiding in a small Gotham high school.
Silo pushed his sunglasses up and rubbed his eyes. He didn't find any trace of Kryptonite, but he did unexpectedly spot his new deskmate organizing a photo album at the desk in her room.
Sure enough, he'd need to find someone to help. Silo thought to himself.
This city wasn't his home turf. Even Lex had friends to help him—wouldn't it be too pathetic if Silo had none?
Gotham, Gotham—hadn't someone introduced him to this city before, even taken him on a tour?
Even in death, his wicked friend would leave behind signposts from the past, guiding his way.
"If you want something in Gotham, you have to avoid Nightwing—don't think I'll help you with that. I'm on his side."
This Gotham had no Nightwing, but it had Batman, a name passed down by word of mouth among Gotham's citizens. Silo figured there probably wasn't much difference between the two.
The only person Lex had ever praised and feared in front of Silo was Nightwing, so perhaps Batman played a similar role here.
"Honestly, the rules of Gotham are Nightwing. No matter what you do, you can't avoid him—alright, alright, I won't spoil the fun. Anyway, if you want money, go see Penguin. He's pretty good at making it, and when Nightwing can't be bothered with appearances, he'll just rob him."
Silo wasn't short on money. Money was one of the easiest things for him to get; Lex had never let him lack for it. So Penguin was useless to him right now.
"Are you interested in plants and flowers? Oh, you look like you're not. If you ever have thoughts about that, Pamela would probably be happy to help."
Poison Ivy… well, she might not know where the Kryptonite is, but the flowers and plants no one pays attention to would definitely have seen something. She could be a backup plan.
"Riddler… forget it, your brain isn't that sharp—did I say something wrong? Anyway, none of you guys are willing to use your brains, even though you could read three books in a second… tsk."
No, wait—why did I have to get insulted in the middle of an introduction to Gotham? I'm plenty smart, okay? It's just that most things can be solved with a threat or a punch—why bother thinking so much?!
Silo pursed his lips, skipped over the unnecessary memories, and found the keywords he wanted most.
[I remember Roman worked with your dad once, but in the end they didn't research anything useful. I saw something when I was spying on Nightwing—seemed to have something to do with you…? Too bad he died too early, I don't know the specifics.]
—Something to do with me!
What else could it be related to me? Kryptonians, of course! If it's related to Kryptonians, then they must know how to get Kryptonite, right?
"Thank you, my dear friend who's gone to hell." Silo said happily.
Finding Kryptonite in Gotham might not be so simple, but finding Black Mask was very easy. At least, it was easy for Silo.
In earlier times, the one who controlled Gotham's Black Gang was The Roman. Back then, Gotham was darker than it is now, but not as chaotic.
If Silo were to describe it with his shallow understanding of Gotham, the past glory he occasionally heard about from local thugs was somewhat like the Gotham he remembered Nightwing controlling.
Maintaining surface-level order with extreme measures, conspiring with the police and the Black Gang—he himself was the greatest darkness and tyranny in Gotham.
But ever since Batman appeared, The Roman's era had come to an end. The newcomers greedily chased power and money, cutting open Gotham's flesh and devouring it.
Black Mask was one of them. Roman Sionis, from one of Gotham's original wealthy families, born and raised on this land, had too deep an understanding of Gotham—that was why he could get one step further than the others.
Because of that, Black Mask was mentioned quite frequently. Curses from enemies, fear and hatred from victims, complaints from his underlings.
Black Mask himself might be cautious enough to isolate himself in a lead-lined environment, but his underlings couldn't all be conveniently out of Silo's hearing range.
Silo released his Super Hearing, filtering out the parts that weren't important to him…
Penguin seems to be running for mayor of Gotham… not interested. Bruce Wayne hooked up with a pair of beautiful twins? Whoa! Someone's planning to kidnap Gotham's richest man again, the East End cat is about to give birth, convenience store robbery… sheesh, you guys do that kind of roleplay in bed? Does Batman know?
Silo blocked out all the random noise and focused on finding information related to Black Mask.
"…Zsasz… Black Mask… arms…"
"…Two-Face… Roman…"
"…psycho killer… Wayne…"
Silo's eyes snapped open, a smile spreading from the corners of his lips. His pupils contracted behind his sunglasses, locking firmly onto one direction.
The next instant, he vanished from where he stood, making no sound at all—not even the wind shifted, as if no living being had ever been there.
"I really don't get what the boss is thinking, taking in that kind of psycho killer…"
"Shut up! You might not want to live, but I do. Talking about the boss behind his back—are you asking for death?"
"You scared me! What the hell?!"
"New here, right? Know why this job pays so well… kid, let me teach you a lesson—keep your mouth shut and your eyes to yourself."
"That's a useful lesson. Sounds like you've got experience. So, could you be so kind as to tell me where the 'boss' is right now?"
"Why do you care so mu—" Before he could finish, cold sweat dripped down the man's forehead. He didn't even have time to draw his gun from his waist before his entire body froze stiff.
Through the glass in front of him, he saw the red figure standing behind him. That figure wore a wide hat that almost completely covered half his face, and what little showed from the shadows was pure black.
The floating teenager had a smile on his lips, silently leaning close to the man's ear. His light yet icy breath brought a strange tickle to the man's ear. The boy's voice was cheerful, like an ordinary high schooler making a request: "I've been looking for him for a long time. You'll tell me, right?"
"**! Who are you?!" The other young man present instinctively reached for his gun, but was sharply stopped by the man.
"Shut up! Don't shoot!" The man who had just been warning the newcomer to watch his mouth and eyes, as his cold sweat was about to hit the ground, spoke without hesitation: "The Miko Hotel—he's been going there lately!"
The man stayed frozen for a long moment before belatedly realizing that the red figure behind him had already vanished without a trace.
Only then did the young man react: "Wait? You just gave up the boss like that—"
But his words seemed destined to be interrupted. The man raised his gun, aiming it at the young man's forehead. The young man stopped all movement, staring at the gun without blinking, his hands slowly raising in surrender.
"If you don't want to end your cheap little life right now, pretend nothing just happened," the man said.
He didn't want to explain too much to the young kid who was too green for this line of work—those who had never truly experienced or encountered such things couldn't possibly understand.
Who would dare, after obtaining intel, not care about the presence of someone nearby who could leak it?
—Only those who believed they could handle everything before the other party leaked it, or those who simply didn't care whether their intel was exposed, would act so nonchalantly.
That incongruous otherness was far too striking. Within that youthful shell that looked no more than a boy's, there lurked a terrifying, bizarre monster.
His gaze fell on the glass that had just reflected that monster, and the Superman emblem that should have been radiant and righteous twisted before his eyes.
Nothing happened today. He saw no one. The man reassured himself.
That was how he'd lived this long.
Silo, flying along, kept an eye on the conversation below, eyes curving into crescents as the crimson slowly receded from his pupils, returning to sky blue.
A rare smart one, huh. Silo remarked with delight.
Gotham really was just like his hometown! Even the people of Gotham resembled the folks back home. Hell yeah!