By the time Commissioner Gordon and District Attorney Dent arrived at the warehouse, the contents had almost completely burned.
The reason was simple: nobody had called the fire department.
If someone's house caught fire, they'd call. If a neighbor's place burned, a good Samaritan might help. But nobody knew what was in this warehouse, and nobody could locate the owner quickly. The trucks arrived late.
Gordon picked up a hundred-dollar bill that had escaped the flames, carried on hot air. Harvey examined another. Both men's expressions darkened. Judging by the fire's intensity and the bills still drifting on the wind, the warehouse had contained significantly more currency. And hiding that volume of cash in an anonymous building was inherently suspicious.
"Who could have done this?" Gordon said quietly.
"Who indeed," Harvey echoed.
"So." A low voice emerged from the shadows behind them. "It wasn't you?"
Catwoman spun, genuinely startled. The tall figure stood there, pointed ears silhouetted against the firelight. Indifferent blue eyes studied her from beneath the cowl.
"You're more cat-like than I am," she said, irritated. "Always appearing and disappearing without a sound."
"You haven't been around lately. Where have you been?"
"In case you haven't heard, Falcone put a million-dollar bounty on my head."
"He did the same for me. I'm still here investigating."
"You're a bat. I'm a cat. We have different survival strategies."
Batman's expression didn't change. "When did you arrive? What did you see?"
"Not much earlier than you." She smiled behind her mask. "Saw the same thing you did."
"Coincidence?"
"Want to know?" She laughed, backing toward the rooftop's edge. "Catch me and I'll tell you."
Cat and bat launched into motion, leaping between buildings—a chase that resembled play more than pursuit. At least, the cat seemed to be enjoying herself.
On ground level, Gordon and Harvey used brute force to break through the warehouse door.
Inside: a mountain of ash. A few unburned bills scattered among the char.
"Fantastic," Harvey muttered. "Another case with massive amounts of counterfeit currency, and we don't even have leads."
"It's not counterfeit."
Harvey turned sharply. Batman's figure had materialized in the corner, silent as always.
"When did you—" He stopped himself. "What did you just say?"
Batman didn't answer immediately. He walked over and handed Harvey a ledger.
Harvey opened it, scanning casually at first. Then he stopped.
Numbers. Dense, meticulous records of transactions that shouldn't exist.
"Falcone's mansion was broken into a few days ago," Batman explained. "His safe was opened. This ledger was inside—a very important ledger. Catwoman and I were both there. That's why the bounty exists."
"Catwoman stole it?" Harvey's mind moved through implications. "But how did you get it back?"
"I'm not certain why she wanted me to know," Batman said, "but she told me if we followed the money, it would lead here. To this warehouse."
Harvey stared at the ledger, then at the ash pile, then back at Batman.
"You mean—"
Meanwhile, Jude had arrived in central Gotham for his third Halloween job.
"The instructions said to wear a gas mask, but I didn't expect this."
He stood before a sewer entrance, holding a Burger King bag with one Big Mac inside. His mouth twitched.
"Who orders takeout to a sewer? Killer Croc? Is he really that desperate for a burger?"
A horrible thought struck him.
"Wait. The burger's the appetizer. I'm the main course."
Cold sweat broke out across his back. He'd wanted to deliver food and collect his reward, not become someone's meal.
Then again... he had the protective cross. He had save points. Was he actually afraid of death?
Better safe than sorry.
Jude immediately spent $100 in asset points to create a new save point at this exact moment. If Killer Croc did try to eat him, he could reload and try a different approach.
"Or..." He opened the system mall.
His first and second jobs had been completed and paid out. His current assets had reached a historical peak: over twenty thousand dollars.
Those points couldn't make him strong enough to fight a seven-foot, three-hundred-pound mutant crocodile with superhuman strength, speed, endurance, and regenerative abilities. But he could potentially heal Croc back to normal human form, then use the Colt to teach him some manners.
Put your opponent on your level, then beat them with experience, he thought. Instead of improving yourself, pull others down.
The logic was sound. Confidence restored, he opened the manhole cover and descended the ladder.
Three seconds after entering, the stench hit him like a physical blow. His stomach lurched. He barely suppressed vomiting.
He bought a gas mask from the system. Ten dollars. The hardware store versions were highway robbery by comparison. Cheap manufacture worked fine as long as it filtered the smell.
That was all he needed.
"Hello? Anyone down here? Who ordered takeout?"
Pitch darkness surrounded him. He put on the gas mask, then pulled out the small pumpkin lantern he'd received as his first job's reward.
"This really is small."
The lantern appeared in his hand, barely larger than a quail egg. Small enough for a keychain. But the pale yellow light it emitted was surprisingly bright, illuminating over thirty feet in every direction. It radiated gentle warmth.
Complete with an adorable miniature pole.
Holding the tiny pumpkin lantern, Jude ventured deeper into the sewer. His footsteps echoed in the circular tunnels, bouncing off curved walls. Despite the lantern's glow, fear crept into his chest. The emptiness felt oppressive.
"Burger King delivery! Anyone order food?"
No response except rats squeaking and scattering from his light.
Jude scratched his head. "Either the system glitched, or I'm in the wrong place."
"SOLOMON GRUNDY, BORN ON MONDAY!"
The roar thundered through the sewer like an avalanche, making the entire tunnel system vibrate. Heavy footsteps approached—rapid, massive. Something huge was running toward him.
"Holy shit! It's not Killer Croc!"