Marvel: The Sole Player

Underground Pork Processing Plant.

When Darian arrived, Batman was lying amidst a mess on the ground. His Batman armor was shattered into pieces, and he had long since lost consciousness.

"Good grief, he really got solo-killed by the AI."

Darian was instantly amused by the sight.

He had already learned the full story from Ultron.

Simply put, Batman had inhaled Fear Gas and mistook his spider-man suit for a hallucination. He launched a proactive attack and even activated an emergency protocol specifically designed for Spider-Man.

This, in turn, activated the safety mechanism reserved on the spider-man suit.

It was a trump card Darian had left behind to prevent the spider-man suit from encountering tricky enemies—Ultron’s sub-system, plus the second form of the enchanted equipment, equivalent to a spider-man suit version of the Whiplash Robot.

The outcome was obvious.

Since Batman didn’t have data on the second form, he suffered another ’first-encounter kill’ and was solo-killed by the AI, Ultron.

Fortunately, Ultron determined that Batman was not a criminal and fell outside the kill range, so he didn’t deal a lethal blow. Otherwise, if he died this way, Joker would be too embarrassed to call him his arch-nemesis.

Finally, after Batman was rubbed into the ground several times by the Ultron-controlled spider-man suit, his unreasonable willpower finally ran out, and he fainted on the spot.

Darian maliciously speculated that perhaps Batman realized halfway through that he’d made a blunder and was so embarrassed that he chose to pass out to escape reality.

Of course, he always delighted in such things.

A scene of Batman looking so wretched wasn’t common; it had to be recorded.

Darian turned on the photography function and took a 360-degree series of shots of the unconscious Dark Knight. He then asked if he could take a photo with him. Receiving silent consent, he stepped one foot on the man’s head and struck a victory pose, flexing his biceps.

After accumulating hundreds of photos, he finally put on the spider-man suit with satisfaction, squatted down, and patted Batman’s cheek.

"Wake up, no sleeping allowed here."

After a few dull slaps, Batman’s eyelids trembled, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Perhaps because his body was severely overloaded, his brain was still in the process of booting up. It took him several seconds to regain his senses and remember what had happened before he fainted.

Batman’s expression stiffened: "You aren’t a hallucination."

He now understood what was going on.

Because he had inhaled Fear Gas so many times, his body had unknowingly developed a resistance. So, after being injected with Fear Gas by Scarecrow, the effect didn’t kick in immediately but was delayed by several minutes.

It was this ’visual lag’ that made him mistake the spider-man suit for a hallucination.

Darian smiled brightly: "I never said I was."

"Then why didn’t you explain?"

Darian didn’t hide it: "Because that wasn’t me, but the artificial intelligence on my suit. It only counter-attacked because you initiated the attack."

Batman felt even worse after hearing that.

The one who defeated him wasn’t even Darian himself, but an AI.

Darian didn’t care if he felt bad or not. He pointed at him and said, "So the fault is entirely on your side. You’ve caused severe damage to my suit, so you have to pay the repair fees. Adding everything up, I’ll give you a discount and round it down to a few hundred million."

Batman looked at the spider-man suit, which was almost perfectly intact except for some scuffed paint on the surface, and his eyelid twitched slightly.

"We can discuss that later. There are more important things to handle right now."

Batman looked at Darian, his tone becoming more solemn: "Spider-Man, I know you’re a superhero. Your methods might be a bit extreme, but you can barely... roughly... possibly... be considered a good person."

Darian said in surprise, "You actually admit I’m a good person? Then what’s with that anti-pest protocol you made for me—"

"Cough, don’t worry about those details."

Batman coughed lightly and continued, "In short, I need your help. There’s still a group of super-criminals on the loose. They are extremely dangerous to this city. Someone must stop them and send them back to prison."

Darian asked curiously, "Can’t you just do it?"

Batman shook his head: "Don’t let my appearance fool you; my body has actually reached its limit. I could lose consciousness at any moment."

Darian was dismissive: "What’s the big deal? Just shout ’I am Batman’ and you’re good to go. That’s a cheat code."

Batman frowned: "Spider-Man, I’m serious."

"I’m serious too."

Batman took a deep breath, his expression turning solemn: "Spider-Man, Gotham needs..."

Before he could finish, he keeled forward and slammed face-first onto the ground.

His status box showed he was in a deep coma.

"Needs who? At least finish your sentence."

Darian squatted down and patted Batman’s face, but there was no reaction this time.

[NPC Bruce Wayne has issued a quest to you]

[Quest: Gotham Needs Batman]

[Objective: Have Batman arrest the escaped super-criminals (0/7)]

[Reward: Based on quest contribution]

Darian stared at the quest panel for two seconds: "System, are you sure he said ’Gotham needs Batman’?"

The game system didn’t respond, which was a silent confirmation.

Darian was quite speechless.

But since the quest required Batman to arrest the super-criminals, he had to wake the guy up somehow.

He was about to pull out an item to forcibly reboot Batman when his hand suddenly stopped mid-air.

Wait.

The quest only said ’Batman’ needs to arrest the super-criminals; it didn’t specify that Batman had to be Bruce Wayne.

Just like Spider-Man doesn’t have to be Peter Parker—it could be him, Darian.

Since the rewards are calculated by contribution, the fewer participants, the better.

Darian looked down at the unconscious Bruce and chuckled: "Old Bat, for the sake of Gotham, I’ll have to trouble you a bit."

As he spoke, he moved without hesitation, stripping off Batman’s tattered suit. His technique was quite practiced; it wasn’t his first time.

This time, however, he didn’t even spare the Batman cowl. Ignoring the protection mechanisms triggered by the helmet—spraying various gases and electric currents—he directly removed the cowl, revealing Bruce Wayne’s face underneath.

"What! Batman is actually Bruce Wayne!"

Darian feigned surprise as a sign of respect.

Then he took out his forging hammer and gave the Batman suit a series of vigorous strikes. After a few hits, the suit, which was originally broken beyond recognition, was instantly restored to new.

"Ultron, implant the Batman suit system."

"Implantation successful."

Darian unequipped the spider-man suit and put on the Batman suit, only to find it didn’t fit quite right.

Bruce was a muscular man built like a double-door fridge, with a height of at least 1.88 meters. The suit’s shoulder width and leg length were a size too large, hanging loosely on him.

Darian tapped his head: "Oops, forgot to deactivate the disguise."

As he spoke, he opened the character customization system. His body size instantly expanded, perfectly filling out the Batman suit, even making it a bit tight.

Darian, looking like a double-door refrigerator himself, nodded with satisfaction: "Mm, this is what I originally looked like."

"My Lord, there is an incoming communication request. Do you wish to answer?"

"Answer it."

Soon, a worried voice came through the channel: "Master Bruce, are you alright?"

Darian guessed the person’s identity immediately; it had to be the legendary ’Butler-man,’ Alfred Pennyworth, Batman’s logistical core.

He responded, "Your master is unable to reply to you right now."

Hearing an unfamiliar voice, Alfred’s tone suddenly tightened: "Who are you? Where is the original owner of the suit?"

Darian said cheerfully, "I’m Spider-Man. Right now Batman... well, Bruce Wayne is currently unconscious and unable to continue his activities. But don’t worry, I’ll call a car later to pack him up and send him back to Wayne Manor."

This was quite a lot of information to process; Alfred was silent for several seconds.

"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Spider-Man, but Gotham isn’t very safe. It’s better if I come to pick up Master Bruce personally."

Darian thought about it and agreed.

Given Bruce’s status, if he really called a car to send him back to Wayne Manor, Alfred would probably receive a kidnapper’s ransom note that same day.

Or, years later, a dozen children claiming to be Bruce’s biological offspring would suddenly show up demanding a share of the inheritance.

"Fine, I’ll send you the address."

"Much obliged, sir."

The communication cut off, and Darian sent the coordinates. He then dragged the unconscious Bruce to a corner, placing him there and casually pulling down several slabs of pork to cover him, lest someone come by and ’scavenge’ the body.

Having done all this, Darian stood up and walked toward Scarecrow, who had been knocked out by Bruce earlier.

He wasn’t polite; he grabbed Scarecrow by the collar, lifted him up, and gave him a dozen backhand slaps across the face.

Scarecrow was forcibly woken up, looking dazed: "Am I back in Arkham Asylum?"

According to custom, every time he was knocked out by Batman, he would wake up in a cell at Arkham Asylum. That place had practically become his respawn point.

"Regrettably, no."

Darian used a bowtie-style voice changer to mimic Batman’s signature gravelly, low-pitched voice.

"Batman!"

Seeing the Batman disguised by Darian, Scarecrow was so scared he jolted: "You, what do you want?"

Darian said in a deep voice, "I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll let you go. But if I see you again next time, I’ll definitely send you to Arkham Asylum, understand?"

Scarecrow was a bit bewildered.

Batman actually let him go? What kind of game was this?

Scarecrow asked tentatively, "You’re really willing to let me go?"

Darian didn’t answer, maintaining Batman’s taciturn style.

Scarecrow gritted his teeth and tried walking toward the door, only to find that Darian really just stood there, with no intention of stopping him.

His eyes lit up, and he immediately bolted, rushing out of the underground pork processing plant.

"I’m free!"

Scarecrow spread his arms, the night wind slapping his face—it was the scent of freedom.

As it turned out, before he could run more than a few steps, a tall figure suddenly blocked his path.

"Which death-seeking fellow dares to block—"

He looked up and saw a familiar Batman cowl.

"We meet again."

Scarecrow: "..."

Darian sent Scarecrow back to dreamland with a single punch, then took out a steel cable to tie him up like a zongzi, hoisting him up to hang from a lamppost.

[Objective: Have Batman arrest the escaped super-criminals (1/7)]

It actually worked.

It seemed the quest only recognized the identity of Batman, not the person inside the suit.

This made things much easier.

Darian grinned, his eyes flashing with white light.

"I was born for revenge, I am the night, I am Batman!"

Gotham Midtown, a massive garden.

A red-haired woman in a green skin-tight suit leaned back on a lounge chair woven from thick vines. She twined a vine around her fingertip and looked up at her best friend, who was leaning on a nearby railing.

"Little Peanut, why aren’t you following your ’Puddin’ this time?"

"Don’t mention it. He said he’s preparing to play a game with Batman, an ’especially, especially important’ one, and told me to go play somewhere else."

Harley rested her chin on the rust-stained iron railing. Her pigtails were one blue and one pink. All her usual bouncy energy was gone, and she looked completely wilted.

The red-haired woman snorted coldly: "I told you long ago, men are no good. You should have listened to me and left that guy ages ago."

Harley was displeased: "Little Ivy, don’t talk about my Puddin’ like that. He’s different."

The red-haired woman rolled her eyes, looking like she was frustrated by her friend’s lack of sense.

In her eyes, her friend’s man was a total domestic abuser who spent every day finding new ways to torture her best friend.

Unfortunately, her best friend was a top-tier ’love-brain’ who firmly believed it was all just a special kind of flirting between a couple.

Who flirts with thousands of volts of electricity!?

Regrettably, the red-haired woman hated all electronic products and didn’t even have a cell phone. Otherwise, she would have exposed that scumbag on some social media app long ago.

These two women were none other than Gotham’s famous super-villains, Poison Ivy, Pamela Isley, and Harley Quinn.

They were originally locked up in Arkham Asylum as well, but when the Joker Gang attacked Arkham, they took the opportunity to escape in the chaos.

Harley was originally following Joker in his escape, but Joker said he wanted to play with Batman alone and that no one could disturb their ’World for two.’ He then kicked her out of the car and sped away.

What could Harley do? She could only watch the departing car and tell herself that Mr. J needed to be happy.

Poison Ivy, who happened to be passing by, saw Harley and dragged her back to her garden.

Looking at her stubborn friend, Poison Ivy couldn’t be bothered to advise her to break up anymore. She changed the subject: "Just stay here with me for these few days. Batman must be out there searching the whole city for us. Staying here is the safest."

Hearing this, Harley’s eyes suddenly lit up: "Wait, you think if I caught Batman and gave him to Puddin’ as a gift, would he be super happy?"

Poison Ivy: "..."

It seemed her friend really had been driven silly by the abuse; she dared to have such an absurd dream without even being asleep.

Poison Ivy kindly advised, "You’d better not provoke Batman, otherwise even I might not be able to protect you."

Harley was dismissive. She patted her chest, full of confidence: "Just Batman. If he dares to show up in front of me, I’ll definitely make him..."

Just then, a gust of wind swept through without warning, lifting the long hair of both Poison Ivy and Harley.

Immediately following was a loud bang that exploded behind them.

Boom!!

The two of them turned their heads at the same time.

On the brick wall behind them, a spider-web-like crater had suddenly appeared. Cracks radiated from the center in all directions, and brick fragments crumbled down.

Right in the center of the crater, a batarang was almost completely embedded in the wall, with less than half a centimeter of its tail fin left showing—enough to show how terrifying the power behind it was.

Gulp!

Harley swallowed hard and looked up at that familiar black figure.

"Actually, I was just kidding. Hahaha, isn’t that funny?"

***************************

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