Bang, bang, bang!
Thump!
Axel landed from the void, the distant sound of gunfire echoing through Gotham's streets.
"Heh, it truly is Gotham," he sneered.
This city never bothered to hide its chaos. Even amid a massive gunfight, Gotham's elite worried only about the kidnapped daughter of the Deputy Secretary of Defense.
Gunfire? Just riff-raff and cannon fodder playing their part. When ordinary people vanish, it's not kidnapping—it's a disappearance. Only someone like Haino made it a headline-grabbing case.
Axel glanced around. He was in front of a Wayne Bank in Burnley District. A passerby had already spotted him and was calling the police.
Axel couldn't resist adding some "emotional value." Drawing his pistol, he approached the middle-aged man.
"This is near Wayne Bank in Burnley District. I saw a man suddenly appear on the street. I swear, he just… poof! And then he's—"
"Hey!" Axel tapped the man's bald head with the gun muzzle and snatched the phone. The man froze, then bolted without even trying to retrieve it.
From afar, Axel gave him a thumbs up, then held the phone to his ear.
"Yes, yes, you're not imagining things. Near Wayne Bank? I'll send someone immediately. The police coming are mainly to apprehend the teleporting person, secondarily… you…"
"Shut up, Buddy. We've got a new arrival." Axel cut him off. The dispatcher sputtered, confused.
"What did you say? Shut up? The nearest police are just half a block away…"
"I'm Axel, Buddy. Don't vent your frustration at me. If you don't know who I am, call Chief Gordon or check Gotham news—let me enlighten you."
Axel hung up and tossed the phone to a nearby sign-spinning young man.
"Sir… is this—?" the young man asked.
"I'm Zorro," Axel said with a grin. "I rob the rich, help the poor. Treat this fruit machine like a little cash—you can sell it. Get yourself some clean clothes that don't make you look ridiculous."
Waving him off, Axel swaggered away from the gunfire. It was already evening, and he had spent the day working. A foot massage and a proper night's sleep were more pressing than chaos.
He hailed a taxi. Sliding into the back seat, he handed the driver twenty dollars.
"Find a hotel with massage services. Keep the rest as a tip."
"Alright, Boss! I'll get you there!" The driver sniffed the banknotes, delighted.
The Kane Hotel was just around the corner, only three hundred meters away. Axel relaxed in the seat, glancing toward the gunfight.
"Whose turf is getting hit this time?" he asked casually.
"Boss Sabatino's. Falcone's subordinate. Some Russian-Americans, probably. Hundreds died earlier, trucks took hours to clean up blood, and Gotham Hospital sent five ambulances but none could save anyone. Every body… finished off. Wait, you're here, Boss!"
Screech! The taxi braked violently. Axel jolted forward.
"You didn't even finish a sentence!" he exclaimed.
"But Kane Hotel suits a high-class Boss like you!" the driver said proudly.
Amused, Axel shook his head.
"Then why not just tell me?"
He slammed his gun butt lightly on the driver's head. Screams followed. Axel pulled out another thousand dollars and tossed it at the man.
"You're right about one thing—my taste is high, even for small change. Your hat's nice, let me borrow it. The rest is for your bandages, bastard!"
The driver flailed as money rained down on him. Axel ignored him, placed the baseball cap on his head, and stepped out.
Entering Kane Hotel, Axel bypassed check-in, heading straight up to the third-floor restaurant. Observing the surroundings, he continued up to the seventh floor.
Strolling the corridor, he stopped at a random room and knocked loudly.
Bang, bang, bang!
"Room service!" he called.
"I don't want room service!" came a voice.
"I can't hear you! This is goddamn room service!" Axel continued pounding.
A young man wrapped in a sheet threw open the door.
"I told you—don't disturb me—what the—mmph?!?"
Before he could finish, Axel grabbed his hair, shoved him into the room, and pressed the muzzle of his gun into the man's mouth. Axel's finger went to his lips.
The young man nodded hastily. Axel spun him around, pressed the gun to his lower back, and guided him toward the bedroom.
Inside, a naked woman fiddled with her hair. Seeing the man, she screamed.
"Shut up!" Axel barked, kicking the man onto the bed, then pressing the gun into the woman's mouth.
He looked at the stunned young man.
"Tie her up, tight. Now!"
"I… right now!" the man said, scrambling for a hairdryer cord and unplugging the TV and computer.
____
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