"Umm… But Kaitou Kid doesn't have those conditions."
Darren shook his head gently, the motion ...'calm' and 'deliberate'.
"And I'm only talking about the magic aspect. As for Kaitou Kid's miraculous disguise techniques, very few magicians are capable of that."
"Hm… alright. That's all I wanted to ask."
Dick let the topic drop, leaning back into the sofa with an easy smile that ...didn't quite reach his eyes.
The living room felt warm and comfortable — the low crackle of the fireplace, the soft glow of floor lamps, the lingering scent of coffee and grilled steak still hanging in the air. Yet Darren couldn't shake the faint sense that every word had been weighed, every glance measured.
"Dick, are you particularly concerned about Kaitou Kid?"
Jack, who had been watching the exchange from the side with quiet interest, asked curiously.
"In a way, yes. I am a police officer now, after all. Even though Gotham's cases aren't my responsibility, I'm still quite curious about a unique criminal like Kaitou Kid."
Dick smiled and admitted it freely, the answer sounding perfectly natural.
After that, the group chatted about a few other trivial topics — school gossip, the latest Wayne Enterprises charity event, Barbara's new accessibility project. The conversation flowed easily, almost too easily, and Darren let himself relax just a fraction.
"It's getting a bit late. I should head home," Darren said as he checked the time on his phone. "Uncle Jack, thank you for the hospitality today. Let's get together again when we have the chance."
"Yeah, it's about time for us to go too," Dick said, as he and Barbara also prepared to leave.
"You're welcome to come over anytime you want to hang out," Jack said happily, already standing to see them out.
Tim walked the three of them to the door. Darren stepped outside first, pulling his coat a little tighter against the cool Gotham night air, then headed home down the quiet residential street.
Watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner, Dick casually remarked, "Do you think it's possible that Kaitou Kid is Darren?"
"Darren?"
Tim and Barbara looked at each other, brows furrowing in near-perfect unison.
"Impossible. Absolutely impossible."
Tim shook his head firmly. "Anyone could be Kaitou Kid, except Darren. We may not understand Kid's motives behind those strange actions, but they can be explained as a desire for attention. He wants to be in the spotlight. That's his motive."
"But with Darren's status, he can get massive applause from any performance. He has fans all over the world. The attention Kaitou Kid gets might not even be one tenth of what Darren already has. Why would he want to become Kaitou Kid?"
"And I don't think Darren could unload the bullets from dozens of police officers in half an hour without being noticed. I've known him for many years and understand his abilities pretty well. This alone is enough to prove he can't be Kaitou Kid."
"Based on that, I actually think those down-and-out magicians with great skills but no chance to show them off are more likely to be Kaitou Kid. They're the ones who want to prove themselves the most."
Tim laid out his reasoning logically, each point delivered with quiet conviction.
"I agree with Tim. With Kaitou Kid's abilities, he couldn't possibly be a high school student."
Barbara nodded in agreement, arms crossed thoughtfully.
"Hey, why are you two taking this so seriously? I just brought it up in passing. I don't really suspect Darren," Dick said, spreading his hands helplessly. "I'm not Batman, biting everyone I see."
♦♦♦
Gotham, Baileys District.
A jewelry store inside a high-end shopping mall welcomed a strange customer that day.
He wore a gentleman's hat split cleanly down the middle into blue and black.
The brim was very wide, and since he kept his head lowered while examining the jewelry in the display case, his face remained hidden in shadow, making his features impossible to see.
The man's clothes were just as unusual.
The fabric clearly marked them as expensive custom-tailored suits, but like his hat, they were divided precisely down the middle into blue and black, giving off an oddly striking — and deeply unsettling — impression.
"Excuse me," a clerk said cautiously, voice trembling just slightly. "May I help you with something?"
Seeing him stare down at the counter without saying a word for several long seconds, the clerk took the initiative to speak again.
"Sir, is there anything I can help you with?"
"Shh."
The customer in the two-toned suit raised a single finger in a silencing gesture.
The clerk swallowed hard.
The man's aura was so unsettling that terrifying thoughts crept into the clerk's mind — images of sudden violence, of headlines he'd read too many times in Gotham.
He wanted to press the alarm button beneath the counter, but every time his hand so much as twitched, he felt a sharp, predatory gaze lock onto him. The bone-chilling pressure forced him to freeze in place, heart hammering against his ribs.
"…Alright. I've made my choice. I'll take all of these."
At last, the customer finished selecting.
A thunderclap went off in the clerk's heart. To him, those words sounded no different from "I'm robbing you."
Ping.
A crisp sound rang out.
A silver flash shot up from the customer's hand and fell back down a few seconds later.
He caught it with the back of his hand, covered it with the other, then slowly opened his palm.
It was a coin, with the Statue of Liberty's head facing up.
"You're lucky, Mr. Clerk," the man said softly. "Now tell me, how much is this entire case of jewelry worth?"
The customer slowly lifted his head and spoke in a low voice. "Oh yes, sir.. ah..."
"Ah… you… you… you're…"
The clerk collapsed to the floor, staring at that face in pure terror.
Half of it was normal — handsome, almost familiar from old campaign posters — while the other half was a grotesque mass of scarred flesh, as if it had been burned and melted in some unspeakable accident. It would have been horrifying even in a horror movie, let alone standing in the bright fluorescent light of a jewelry store.
"Two-Face!"
The clerk cried out the name in fear.
Two-Face, Harvey Dent, former Gotham District Attorney, now a fugitive with a split personality.
"Calm down, sir," Two-Face said evenly, voice flat and emotionless. "Now tell me, what is the total value of the jewelry in this case?"
Ignoring the clerk's panic, he repeated the question.
"Th-this… it's… I'm sorry, I haven't calculated it."
The clerk answered with his eyes squeezed shut, voice barely above a whisper.
"Fine. I suppose this should be enough."
Two-Face placed two heavy bags from beneath his feet onto the counter.
When he unzipped them, they were packed full of green bills — crisp, stacked, and clearly real.
The clerk stared blankly at what he was doing, completely unable to understand his intentions.
"They're yours."
Two-Face had no intention of explaining himself. He left those words behind and turned to walk out of the shop.
The money remained on the counter, but not a single piece of jewelry had been stolen.
"This… this is real money!"
The clerk pulled out several bundles of bills and fed them into the money counter. A look of shock and delight spread across his face as the machine whirred and confirmed the authenticity.
"Even if the money Two-Face gave me is probably stolen, as long as I use it carefully and don't tell anyone…"
Just as a greedy smile began to creep onto his lips, Two-Face suddenly returned from outside.
"I also quite like the jewelry in those other display cases over there."
He pointed toward several rows of cases in the shop and smiled — a smile that was anything but warm.
Then, under the clerk's horrified gaze, Two-Face flipped the coin again.
This time, the eagle emblem, representing tails, landed face up.
In an instant, Two-Face's expression changed. The half-normal face twisted into something cold and vicious.
"I'm afraid, sir, your luck has run out."
Bang.
A gunshot rang out, and the clerk collapsed to the floor.
The next day.
An emergency bulletin swept through the streets and alleys of Gotham.
~~Emergency bulletin~~
At 10:49 last night, the fugitive Two-Face, Harvey Dent, appeared at a shopping mall in the Baileys District. He robbed a jewelry store, four restaurants, and two supermarkets, resulting in a total of thirteen casualties.
______
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