Axel put down his fork, waved his hand at the woman, then drew his pistol from behind his waist. With a quick cock, he fired two shots into the ceiling.
Bang! Bang!
The restaurant froze. Even the woman, seasoned in many odd situations, trembled. Patrons dove under tables or bolted toward the exits.
Axel could have killed one or two of the fleeing people, then demanded hostages and staged a mini-robbery. But that wasn't his goal. He wanted chaos. Only in disorder would the security guards hesitate to shoot.
Rushing through the panicked crowd, Axel scooped up a small boy who had been abandoned by his mother. Pressing the gun lightly to the boy's cheek, he grinned.
"Buddy, Uncle's taking you on an adventure!"
"You're lying! You're a bad guy!" the boy cried, tugging at Axel's collar.
Axel bared his teeth. "Less talking. You're my hostage now, haha!"
He waved at the stunned security guards, then swaggered out of the Kane Hotel, across the garden, and into the street. With a loud smash, he shattered the window of an Audi R8, dragged the middle-aged man from the driver's seat, and climbed in himself.
"Good morning, Buddy! Hope you enjoy your ride in Gotham!" Axel chuckled, pointing the gun at the man with his hands raised.
"This is my new car! Bought it three weeks ago!" the man sputtered, red-faced with anger.
"Haha, I'll drive it however I want. Enjoy filing your claim at the Gotham Police Department!" Axel slammed the accelerator, scraping past several cars and breaking through the small police cordon with reckless precision.
After two blocks, he plowed the Audi straight into a BMW 4S dealership. Chaos reigned inside, but Axel calmly stepped out and disappeared into the crowd.
High above Gotham, in a helicopter, Gordon watched helplessly.
"I've got him locked," whispered the sniper. "Can I shoot, Sergeant?"
"Would it even work?" Gordon muttered, scanning Axel's retreat through binoculars.
Gordon knew enough about Axel now. Death caused him to randomly teleport and resurrect—even capture couldn't hold him. Killing him was pointless.
"Stand down. Just track him. He may target the Dimitrov Family next, or even head to Metropolis," Gordon said. "Falcone has his people in place, and the military has a trap for him if he goes to Metropolis. I just hope he leaves Gotham—this city can't survive much more chaos."
Then Gordon frowned, realizing something. "He went to Wayne Manor yesterday. His targets so far have been gang territories, wealthy individuals, and upscale stores or banks. Wayne Manor could be next."
"Wayne Manor?" muttered the other officers.
In Gotham, the Wayne family symbolized power. Bruce Wayne had just returned, but even seven years away couldn't shield the family from someone like Axel. The thought of Gotham's richest family under threat excited the officers; the anti-rich sentiment in the department ran deep.
At Wayne Manor, Alfred carried breakfast and gently pushed open Bruce's door.
"Remember to knock next time," Bruce said without looking up, his focus on sketches at his desk.
"Indeed, Master, but I hoped you'd sleep a little longer," Alfred replied, setting the breakfast down. "You returned at four this morning. Less than four hours' rest won't let you function in Gotham's nights. Your body must support your plans."
"But time waits for no one, Alfred," Bruce interrupted, showing a sketch of a mask with subtle cat-like ears.
Alfred nodded. "This is the mask you want? I can arrange production worldwide. But are you ready? This is earlier than planned. Were you influenced by the Wraith who kidnapped the Deputy Secretary of Defense's daughter? Changing plans for someone new is risky. He can still make mistakes, and we only have one chance."