Marvel: The Sole Player

Darian didn’t know exactly what Bruce was thinking, but he could guess about seventy or eighty percent of it.

It was nothing more than wanting to test him, gather intelligence, and conveniently formulate several sets of emergency contingency plans against him—the standard operating procedure for Batman.

This wasn’t just Darian’s baseless speculation.

In a certain DC comic, Batman and Cyborg had a dispute due to a disagreement in philosophy, and Batman directly remote-activated a virus program hidden within Cyborg’s body, paralyzing him on the spot.

Cyborg was completely dumbfounded at the time.

He was a semi-mechanical life form, comparable to a humanoid Skynet. His system had iterated countless times, and his self-diagnostic programs were many times stronger than the Pentagon’s firewall. Theoretically, no electronic virus could breach his defenses, let alone be hidden silently inside him.

As it turned out, after scanning, he discovered that Batman had already planted a Trojan horse program in his body within the first week of their first meeting—and they had been teammates ever since.

Is this something a human being would actually do!?

Compared to Batman, Nick Fury, that late-stage paranoid patient, seemed positively open-minded.

If he was like this toward a teammate like Cyborg who fought by his side, let alone Darian, a stranger of unknown origin.

However, Darian was actually looking forward to seeing how Bruce would target him.

One had to know, he had a vast array of tricks up his sleeve.

It was no exaggeration to say that even he hadn’t meticulously counted how many methods he had; calling him a Thousand-Handed Guanyin wouldn’t be an overstatement.

On the surface, he was a sharpshooter with innate divine strength, skilled in a ’little bit’ of martial arts.

In reality, he was a mage, and the magic he excelled at couldn’t be counted on ten fingers.

In addition to that, he had various skills, items, and equipment that would take more than an hour to demonstrate in full.

Furthermore, he had two character cards, Tony Stark and Professor X, allowing him to transform into either at any time and use all of their abilities.

If Bruce spent all that effort developing a plan against him, only to use it one day and have Darian suddenly pull out a new trick, beating Bruce until he questioned his life... just thinking about that scene was exciting.

Thinking of this, Darian sat down opposite Bruce and said modestly, "I’m not that impressive. I’m far behind Batman."

"To be honest, I ran into Batman a while ago. His moves were indeed formidable. Before I could even react, he had stuffed several pounds of monitors and a grapple gun onto me."

Bruce: "..."

Did I stuff that grapple gun there?

You clearly stole it from me!

Bruce instantly formed a judgment on Darian’s character: he was even more shameless than expected.

He followed the lead and said, "Perhaps Batman thinks you’re a dangerous element. After all, your method of law enforcement is too extreme. I heard you’ve only been with the Gotham City Police Department for two days, and several gang members have already died at your hands."

"Don’t talk nonsense. That was self-defense; the procedure was completely legal."

Darian spoke with righteous indignation, huffing, "On the other hand, that Batman has violated who-knows-how-many laws over the years: intentional assault, intentional destruction of property, obstructing public service, extortion of confessions through torture, illegal entry into residences... Oh, right, he also put a tracker on me, so add violation of a citizen’s right to privacy to the list."

"Compared to Gotham’s supervillains, Batman’s crimes are just as numerous, if not more. He’s a pure outlaw. He shouldn’t be called Batman; he should be called Vigilante Outlaw."

Darian was full of confidence.

He was, at the very least, a licensed official police officer. Everything he did was backed by law enforcement authority and fell under the normal performance of duties to maintain social order.

As for Batman, no matter how you spun it, he was just an unlicensed vigilante.

I, the one with a license, haven’t even bothered you, yet you, the one without a license, want to boss me around.

It’s simply turning the natural order upside down.

After hearing Darian’s words, Bruce’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, as if Darian wasn’t talking about him at all.

What did Batman’s business have to do with him, Bruce Wayne?

Bruce smiled slightly. "It seems you have quite a grievance against Batman."

"Of course. I’m the type who can’t stand these law-breaking elements the most," Darian said with a face full of righteousness.

Bruce: "..."

If you hadn’t been drag racing at 180 mph in the city and made off with Black Mask’s illicit funds, I almost would have believed you.

Bruce didn’t continue to argue over this topic, instead chatting with Darian casually, subtly fishing for information.

Darian didn’t mind and just followed the conversation.

He was someone who could banter for ages with a motor-mouth king like Wade; a mere Bruce was no problem at all.

The two talked about everything from the situation in Gotham to various gossip about Batman, and the atmosphere became unexpectedly harmonious.

Darian, getting into the spirit of the chat, asked casually, "I heard a rumor. They say all that incredibly expensive high-tech gear of Batman’s was earned by him selling his backside to you. Is there any truth to that?"

Bruce’s face stiffened slightly, then he denied it. "How is that possible? I simply admire Batman’s ideals and had Wayne Enterprises provide some sponsorship. Where did you hear such a rumor?"

"The Penguin."

Bruce’s eyes narrowed instantly.

It seemed he would have to find time to visit The Penguin again.

"Right, we’ve been chatting for so long, we haven’t even talked about business yet."

Bruce brought the topic back and smiled. "Officer Darian, since we’ve had such a pleasant conversation, I can give you the lowest possible discount on the house you wanted. We can sign today."

Darian waved his hand. "No thanks. I have a quirk—I don’t like discounted things. It seems this house and I aren’t meant to be. I’ll look elsewhere."

Are you kidding? He could buy a house from anyone except Bruce.

There were probably dozens of pounds of monitoring equipment buried in that house. If he moved in, his life would have no rehearsal—it would be a live broadcast every day.

Bruce chuckled. "In that case, I won’t force you. If you change your mind, Officer Darian, you can contact me anytime."

As he spoke, he handed over a gold-trimmed business card.

Darian accepted it with a smile, already planning to melt the card down when he got back to see if it was solid gold or just plated.

After a few more pleasantries, Darian stood up and left the private room.

Bruce watched Darian’s departing back, remained silent for a few minutes, then pulled a miniature device from under the table and connected his phone to it.

"Preliminary information collection complete."

He stared at the data jumping on the screen and whispered, "Create a new file, name it ’Gotham Gun God’."

After walking out of Bruce’s ’Death Banquet,’ Darian immediately changed his gear and checked his game inventory.

This time, no strange objects had appeared. It seemed the other party had learned his lesson.

If Bruce had dared to stuff anything else on him, next time he’d go and dismantle the wheels of that Batmobile.

Since the house he liked didn’t work out, Darian continued to contact real estate agents to look at the next one.

This time he added a requirement: the seller’s last name could not be Wayne.

Things went much smoother after that.

The agent showed him two places, and Darian settled on a large Villa on the spot. It also came fully furnished, saving him the trouble of starting from scratch.

However, this Villa had been vacant for over a decade.

Supposedly, the owner was a wealthy man who, one night over ten years ago, ran into a killer in a Gotham alley and unfortunately died of a stab wound. The killer had never been caught.

Darian was speechless upon hearing this.

Did these rich people in Gotham have some kind of special fetish? Why did every single one of them like to duck into alleys?

Even a three-year-old in Gotham knew that alleys were high-risk spawning grounds for trouble. From street thugs and psychopathic killers to supervillains—even homeless people didn’t dare venture into them.

And despite being incredibly wealthy, these people never liked to bring bodyguards.

Take the famous Crime Alley incident—if the Waynes had brought a few more bodyguards or simply avoided dangerous alleys, Gotham wouldn’t have a bat-freak jumping around on rooftops every night.

The wealthy man had left no children, and most of his estate had been donated according to his will, leaving only a sum of money and this Villa for his nephew to inherit.

Darian met the nephew, who was exceptionally happy that someone was taking the house off his hands.

The reason was simple: the annual taxes on the Villa were terrifyingly high. The small inheritance he had received couldn’t sustain it, and he was even having to pay out of his own pocket, nearly putting him in the red.

Now that Darian was taking over the Villa, he could finally be free.

While signing the contract, the nephew was so happy he chatted a bit more. "It’s all that old man’s fault, signing a will in advance to donate most of the property and leaving me this brok—this Villa."

"But don’t worry, sir. Although I’ve never lived in that Villa—I’ve always lived in a rental—I’ve regularly hired people to clean it. It’s perfectly preserved."

Darian was curious. "Why didn’t you live there?"

The nephew gave a dry laugh. "My uncle and I didn’t have a great relationship when he was alive. Living in that Villa, I always feel like I’d see my uncle scolding me."

Darian raised an eyebrow, feeling the reason was a bit forced, so he glanced at the other’s information panel.

[Evaluation: Uncle Killer]

Darian: "..."

I bet it’s not a bad relationship, but a guilty conscience that makes him afraid to live there.

He had to admit, Gotham was indeed full of talent. He could stumble upon the culprit of a cold case just by buying a house; it was on par with Beika-cho in Japan.

After the nephew left, Darian sent a text to Harvey. It was a free achievement; it just depended on whether the other could catch it.

With that, Darian finally had a place of his own in this DC Universe.

The first thing to do after getting a house was, naturally, to buy insurance.

One had to know that in both Marvel and DC, one would encounter all sorts of natural and man-made disasters.

You could work hard for decades to pay for a house and a car, only for them to be smashed into a pile of rubble and scrap metal by a falling superhero or supervillain one day, turning half a lifetime’s effort into nothing.

Since Darian wasn’t short on money anyway, he directly bought a massive insurance policy for his house. The insurer was still an industry under Wayne Enterprises.

There was no choice; in Gotham, only three things were inevitable.

Death, taxes, and Wayne Enterprises.

After all the running around, the sky had completely darkened.

Darian returned alone to the empty Villa and pressed the switch for the front hall lights. Warm yellow light immediately flooded the entire house.

Just as that ’Vigilante’ nephew had said, the Villa was indeed well-maintained. There was no musty or moldy smell inside, no dust or cobwebs on the floors or furniture surfaces. It just looked a bit dated, with a very vintage style.

Thud!

Just then, a very faint muffled sound came from overhead.

Darian looked up at the ceiling, narrowed his eyes, and followed the sound upstairs.

The bedroom door at the end of the hallway was slightly ajar. It was pitch black inside, with only a bit of cold white light from the streetlamps leaking through the window.

Darian pushed the door open and walked in, immediately noticing something was wrong.

The bedroom window was open, there were obvious wrinkles on the bed as if someone had just been sitting on it, and a bulging large bag was sitting by the bed, its contents unknown.

Darian scanned the corners of the room, then, as if sensing something, he turned back and looked up.

Darian: (O—O)

Selina: (·V·)

Darian blinked and leaned back slightly to see the full picture.

In the corner where the ceiling met the wall, a woman was clinging to it like a giant gecko. Her limbs were spread wide, fingers digging into the wall seams, and her legs were almost in a full split, braced against the walls on either side.

She had two upright cat ears on her head, and a black tight suit outlined the perfect lines of her body. The abyss at her chest was fully visible. Her goggles were pushed up to her forehead, revealing a pair of wide, round green eyes that were now locked in a stare with Darian’s.

[NPC: Selina Kyle]

[Codename: Catwoman]

[Affection: 0]

[Evaluation: Cat ears, tight suit, leather whip]

Darian: "..."

Is this evaluation decent?

The two stared at each other for a full three seconds before Selina suddenly let go and dropped from the ceiling, her entire weight pressing directly onto Darian.

"Aieee!"

Darian let out an extremely exaggerated cry of alarm, his feet stumbling just enough to fall backward, landing with pinpoint accuracy onto the large bed.

Selina followed through, using her knees and shins to firmly lock his hands at his sides, sitting steadily astride his waist and abdomen.

Darian put on a panicked look. "Are you after my money or my body? Let me say this first: I don’t have money, and as for my body... even if you get my person, you won’t get my heart."

"Pah, who wants your body?"

Selina said fiercely, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Darian was speechless. "This is my home. Where else would I be if not here?"

Selina flatly denied it. "Impossible. This house has never been lived in."

Darian said, "Your information is outdated. Just today, I signed the contract and bought this house. I still have the transfer deed on me. If you don’t believe me, search me yourself."

Hearing this, Selina reached out to feel inside Darian’s clothes.

"Now’s my chance!"

Darian suddenly exerted force, flipping over and pinning Selina beneath him.

He looked down at Selina from above and gave a mischievous grin. "Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t need to get your heart."

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

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