It was as if Bruce Wayne could feel Alex's gaze on him.
He turned his head slightly—expressionless—meeting Alex's eyes across the crowded hall.
For a brief instant, their eyes locked.
Then both men looked away, as though neither had noticed the other.
> "So… Homelander came too. That means he solved the riddle as well."
Bruce thought silently, the realization tightening in his chest.
And if Homelander had indeed shown up here, it could only mean one thing—
Bruce's own deduction had been correct.
This wasn't some charity gala or casual social event.
It was a foundation inauguration ceremony.
Exactly the kind of thing Homelander would normally ignore.
So why was he here?
Bruce knew the answer.
They were both hunting the same prey.
The Riddler.
He had no proof, of course—just instinct.
But his instincts had rarely failed him before.
And this time, Bruce Wayne was determined to make sure they wouldn't.
> "I can't let him outshine me again."
Since the day Homelander appeared in Gotham, the once-feared Batman had become little more than a punchline.
Homelander had done in half a month what Batman had spent years trying to achieve.
Criminals whispered his name in terror—
while Batman's was fading into myth.
If Bruce didn't prove himself now,
then when Homelander eventually left Gotham,
who would fear the Bat anymore?
---
> "Bruce Wayne?"
Following Alex's gaze, Catwoman quickly spotted Gotham's most famous playboy across the room.
Her brows arched in surprise.
The city's notorious billionaire dilettante—here, of all places?
But after a moment's thought, she dismissed it.
That man was always showing up where the cameras were.
Turning back to Alex, she asked quietly,
> "Do you really think the Riddler's going to show up tonight?"
The "Riddler."
Ever since the Winston Hotel elevator incident, the entire city knew that name.
The madman who had publicly challenged Homelander.
Overnight, he'd become a legend—
Gotham's new favorite nightmare.
Even though Alex had stopped the attack, it didn't matter.
It was still the first crime in half a month to slip through Homelander's iron grip.
And the fact that it had directly targeted him made it all the more sensational.
The Riddler was now famous—
infamous, to be precise.
---
> "No. He won't show himself," Alex said calmly, shaking his head.
For days now, he had been watching the Riddler from afar—
literally watching, through the walls, through the city.
Every move, every breath, was under his surveillance.
Just like the hotel bombing, this was another remote-controlled operation.
A clever man's game of chess, played from the shadows.
The Riddler wasn't stupid.
And facing someone like Alex—a walking god—
he wouldn't dare take any chances.
> "But…" Alex's tone shifted, the edge of a smile tugging at his lips.
"It doesn't matter. Today's his last day."
Catwoman glanced at him, half skeptical, half trusting.
She had been with him every minute these past few days,
and he hadn't done a single thing that looked like preparation.
Yet when Alex spoke like that—calm, absolute—
she believed him.
The Riddler was finished.
He just didn't know it yet.
---
> "Ladies and gentlemen!"
The host's voice boomed through the ballroom.
> "Please welcome Gotham's shining star—our very own District Attorney, Harvey Dent!"
A thunderous round of applause followed.
Sincere or not, every socialite in the room clapped like their life depended on it.
The atmosphere was electric.
Harvey walked confidently up the stage, looking every bit the golden boy of Gotham—
sharp suit, bright smile, radiating charisma.
He was the city's new hope.
Its Light Knight.
> "Ladies and gentlemen, it's an honor to stand here today—"
But before he could finish, a voice suddenly cut through the air.
---
> "Harvey Dent!"
The name echoed through the ballroom's sound system—
and instantly, every conversation died.
That voice.
Everyone recognized it.
> "Gotham's newest golden prosecutor," it said, dripping with mockery.
"Today, I want to play a little game with you."
> "And what better stage than this—before all of Gotham's elite? Don't you agree?"
The voice carried a hint of manic delight.
---
> "What's going on?"
"Who's speaking?"
The guests murmured nervously, eyes darting around the room.
And then—
Bzzt!
The massive screen behind Harvey flickered to life.
All eyes turned to it.
On the glowing screen, a single sentence appeared—
a riddle:
> I can sneak up on you, or stand right before you, and you'd never know.
But when I reveal myself, you'll never be the same.
What am I?
---
"What the hell…?"
For a brief moment, confusion hung in the air.
Then—
> "It's him!"
"The Riddler!"
"God, not again!"
Panic erupted like wildfire.
Gotham's rich and powerful weren't used to being on the receiving end of fear.
And nothing terrified them more than realizing they were now part of one of the Riddler's "games."
> "I suppose I don't need to introduce myself anymore, do I?"
The voice laughed, pleased.
> "Yes, that's right. You can call me the Riddler. I like the name—it has a nice ring to it."
> "Now, everyone relax. I'm not here for you.
I only want to play a game… with Harvey Dent."
> "The rest of you just stay where you are and enjoy the show.
I promise—it's going to be unforgettable."
His tone was light, playful even.
But no one in the room felt like laughing.
The crowd broke into chaos, people shoving and screaming, desperate to reach the exits.
---
> "I said—STAY PUT."
The Riddler's voice dropped to a furious growl.
BOOM!
An explosion erupted near the entrance—
a ball of fire tearing through the air, shaking the entire ballroom.
Screams filled the hall.
Smoke rolled across the marble floor.
And above it all, the Riddler's laughter echoed through the speakers—
cold, triumphant, and utterly mad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For 60 advanced chapters, visit my Patreon:
Patreon - Twilight_scribe1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~