VIP Shoutout: Massive thanks to James31292 & Caleb Galipo for joining the Inner Circle!
💝
_______
"Heh~ I never steal the same prize twice. To me, that necklace is nothing more than a trinket now."
Kaitou Kid gave a small, dismissive shake of his head, the motion elegant even as wind whipped past them both.
"If not that, then what gem?"
Janice asked in confusion, brows furrowing. Could there have been another jewel hidden inside that truck? Some secret compartment she hadn't noticed in the darkness?
"The gem I want is right here in my arms."
There was a deeper, almost teasing meaning in Kaitou Kid's words, his voice soft against the rush of air.
"In your arms… then that would be… me?"
Realization dawned on Janice, and a shy blush spread across her cheeks, warming her skin despite the cool night wind. Her heart gave a quick, fluttering beat.
So Kaitou Kid called me his gem. Does that mean he…
A swirl of sweet, dizzy thoughts filled the young girl's mind — fantasies she'd only ever entertained in secret while scrolling through fan forums late at night. She felt suddenly very aware of how securely he held her, one arm strong around her waist, the other supporting her shoulders.
Come to think of it, Kaitou Kid's chest is really warm…
By now, Kaitou Kid had already flown well beyond the borders of Miller Port, the sprawling cranes and shipping containers shrinking into a patchwork of lights below.
The hang glider carried them smoothly through the sky, the only sounds the faint creak of fabric and the distant hum of the city.
On the ground, several patrol cars sped toward the port, red and blue lights slicing through the darkness.
In one of them sat Jim Gordon himself, trench coat collar turned up against the night chill.
Moments earlier, he had received a flurry of reports: multiple serious traffic accidents, all clustered near the port entrances — overturned vehicles, scattered debris, suspiciously precise blockades.
Such an obvious anomaly might as well have been a neon sign screaming Miller Port is in trouble.
Gordon had immediately gathered his men and rushed out, tires screeching as they peeled away from headquarters.
But they had left too late. The crisis had already ended before they arrived — and now they were actually crossing paths with the rescuer returning with his hostage.
"Hey, look up. Isn't that Kaitou Kid?"
Static crackled over the radio, followed by an officer's excited shout.
Gordon craned his neck toward the sky, squinting through the windshield.
Sure enough, he spotted the thief's distinctive triangular glider, white against the black night, with a girl cradled carefully in his arms.
"Looks like he's carrying a girl…"
Gordon recalled Kaitou Kid's bold reply to the Riddler's challenge — the promise of midnight, the cryptic reference to the Princess of Troy.
Could he have already rescued the hostage?
"Stop the car. Turn around."
Realization struck, and Gordon barked the order to his driver.
He grabbed the radio and addressed the other units, voice calm but firm.
"One car follows me after Kid. The rest head to the port and assess the situation. Secure the area, look for the Riddler or any remaining traps."
"Yes, Commissioner."
Gordon's cruiser peeled away from the convoy with a sharp squeal of tires and roared after the phantom thief.
Wee oo, wee oo~~!
"Hm?"
Hearing the sirens below, Kaitou Kid glanced down, monocle catching the flash of emergency lights.
"I thought they'd all head for the port. Someone actually doubled back."
"Miss Janice," he said gently, tilting his head toward her, "I was planning to drop you at the GCPD. Your father has been waiting there for a long time. Looks like I don't need to anymore. Your escort has arrived."
He smiled at her — warm, reassuring, the kind of smile that made headlines and broke hearts.
"We'll part on that rooftop ahead."
"Huh? You.. you're leaving already?"
Janice's face fell, a small pang of disappointment tightening her chest.
"Don't worry. As long as I'm around, the show goes on. We'll meet again."
Even as he spoke, he banked the glider in a smooth arc and touched down lightly on the flat rooftop of an old brick warehouse. He set her gently on her feet, steadying her with one gloved hand until she found her balance.
"Kaitou Kid."
Janice called softly, voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, miss?"
The moment he turned, she rose on tiptoe and brushed a quick, shy kiss against his cheek — soft, impulsive, grateful.
"Thank you for saving me. I'll always be your fan."
"Ah... The honor is mine. I'll strive for an even grander performance."
He blinked once in genuine surprise, then gave her a graceful, theatrical bow, hat sweeping low.
With that, he leapt from the rooftop without hesitation.
Gordon's cruiser screeched to a halt on the street below.
"Commissioner, look. Kaitou Kid just jumped. No glider. He's going to hit the ground."
The driver pointed at the falling figure, eyes wide.
"Idiot. Kaitou Kid would never let himself splatter. Look behind us."
Gordon snapped, already scanning the sky.
"Huh? There's another Kaitou Kid back there. When did he get past us?"
An officer spotted a second glider slipping away in the distance, white cape fluttering like a ghost.
"The one who jumped was just a decoy. The real Kid has already escaped."
"As expected of you, Commissioner. You saw through his trick right away."
The officer stared in admiration.
Gordon picked up the radio, voice steady.
"He's alone. The hostage is on that rooftop. Get her and take her to the GCPD. Make sure she gets medical attention and reunites with her father."
The officers hurried out and escorted Janice away, wrapping her in a blanket against the night chill.
Gordon, meanwhile, continued the pursuit of the elusive thief — though he already knew the chase was more formality than possibility tonight.
...
Gotham.
A nondescript shed about a kilometer from Miller Port.
The Riddler stared at the new riddle he had just finished writing on a cracked whiteboard, the green marker squeaking faintly. A sinister grin spread slowly across his face.
"Kaitou Kid, this time you won't beat me. I'll make you beg for death."
He stood, joints popping after hours hunched over plans, and looked around the dim warehouse — empty crates, flickering fluorescent lights, the faint smell of rust and old oil.
"The hostage is gone. The GCPD will turn Miller Port upside down. They'll find this place sooner or later. Time to move."
He rubbed his chin in thought, already calculating new hideouts.
"Oh, relocating? I know the perfect place for you."
A voice suddenly spoke behind him — low, calm, edged with dark amusement.
"It's called Arkham Asylum."
Every hair on the Riddler's neck stood on end.
"Who's there?"
He spun around, cane raised like a weapon.
Smack!
A black baton smashed into his face with precise, practiced force, sending him crashing to the floor in a spray of blood and shock.
"Hitting from behind really is a different kind of fun, don't you think, Nygma?"
Only then did the Riddler see his attacker clearly through watering eyes.
A young man in a black suit with bold blue stripes across the chest and arms, a blue domino mask over his eyes, twin escrima sticks in his hands — one still humming faintly from the impact.
"Nightwing."
The Riddler gasped the name in disbelief.
____
🐼🐼🐼
12 Advance chapters:
Patreon.com/serioza