For one brief second, Jude's voice reminded Philip of Gollum from The Lord of the Rings—that hunchbacked creature with a rat-like face, raging in dark corners over the bewitching One Ring.
"My precious! My precious!"
"My salary! My salary!"
Exactly the same energy.
"You already got your Ring!" Philip, driven nearly insane by the destroyed chandelier and Batman's assault, finally broke down completely. "I paid you at the beginning of the month! Damn it, it's a salary, not the One Ring—and I'm a fucking idiot for arguing with you!"
Jude was certain that if there were still light in the room, Philip's face would be bright red.
The darkness was probably a blessing. Philip sounded like he genuinely wanted to shoot Jude. Maybe himself too, for good measure.
Batman didn't understand what the two men were doing. He simply continued his methodical assault, knocking down restaurant employees who'd drawn weapons. After two minutes, every armed waiter in the Red Dragon lay unconscious or incapacitated. Only Philip remained standing—unable to draw his gun because Jude kept grabbing his arm—temporarily spared.
"Hurry up and say it! Just say it!" Jude watched Batman vanish into shadow, alarm bells screaming in his mind. He shook Philip's body frantically. "Say it! Say it!"
"Don't block my shot! You—"
Philip's words cut off abruptly.
A tall, imposing figure materialized silently beside them. One hand seized the gun in Philip's grip. The other pressed him to the ground with overwhelming force.
Jude's heart cried out in despair. At this moment, he finally understood his supervisor's feelings completely. This was what it felt like to watch a fortune slip through your fingers.
Of course, he was also concerned about Philip's safety. But Batman didn't kill people, so Philip would definitely survive. At worst, he'd suffer some broken bones.
Jude's situation was far more tragic. Forget whether Batman would break his bones—he'd worked hard for an entire month, finally completed enough shifts, and now at the exact moment of payday, the company was getting raided.
For Jude, this was the most desperate thing that had happened to him today.
"Someone carved an ugly pumpkin in this restaurant the day before Halloween." Batman's voice was cold and low. "Where is he?"
Jude immediately retracted his previous assessment. That had been the second most desperate thing today.
Batman completely ignored Jude, who was lying on the floor beside him. This particular employee hadn't even drawn his gun. The moment Philip was restrained, Jude had dropped to the ground with hands on his head. No resistance. Only pure survival instinct.
But the moment he heard Batman's question, Jude's vision went dark. He began frantically searching the system mall for Fast Life Recovery.
Damn it, I knew Batman was Gotham City's biggest psychopath. He can track down this kind of detail—I only spent half an hour carving in the break room.
When Philip heard Batman's question, he froze. Then he collapsed into hysterical laughter.
"Hahahaha—that's it?!" He laughed until he could barely breathe. "Ha! Is this what Gotham City's Nightmare amounts to? Hahaha, cough—investigating a murder case leads to some idiot carving an ugly pumpkin?"
"What's wrong with not being able to carve pumpkins?" Jude couldn't help himself. He raised his head and retorted. "The pumpkin I carved has strong artistic atmosphere. You're the one lacking artistic appreciation, okay?"
Both Philip and Batman turned to look at him simultaneously. Philip's expression suggested he was staring at a complete fool. Batman simply studied him with those unreadable white lenses.
"So. You carved that pumpkin?"
Would Batman raid a location without first checking everyone's identity? Of course not. He simply hadn't had time to confirm whether Jude was genuinely just a newcomer who'd recently arrived in Gotham.
Jude's heart hammered. Only when actually facing the massive dark figure did he truly understand how terrifying Batman's presence was. In two minutes, he'd beaten more than a dozen armed Falcone gangsters into submission. Even accounting for tonight's thunderstorm as cover, the display of skill was overwhelming.
Muay Thai. Boxing. Taekwondo. Judo. Ninjutsu. Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Proficient in 127 martial arts. Degrees in criminology, law, biology, physics, advanced chemistry, medicine—barely scratching the surface of his knowledge. Rigorous physical training begun at age eleven, specialized diet, biofeedback techniques—all had elevated his physique to the pinnacle of human capability. Titles earned: Master Tactician. Master Interrogator. Fear Incarnate.
Batman was, in a very real sense, the perfect human being. Only such a person could use flesh and blood to beat Gotham's criminals into submission—gangsters, killers, super-criminals wielding ice, fire, psychological warfare, magic, mutations, immortality, and worse—before dragging them to cells or Arkham Asylum.
And now, such a person stood before Jude. Though not yet as sharp and terrifying as he'd become in later years, extracting secrets from ordinary people was trivially easy for him.
Thunder exploded outside the window. Lightning split the night sky, illuminating the room. The cold, solemn shadow of a bat projected across Jude, plunging him into darkness.
"Yes, I carved it." Jude's voice came out steadier than he felt. "Carving pumpkins for Halloween isn't illegal—"
"But murder is. And leaving a pumpkin at a murder scene is equally suspicious."
"What do you mean 'equally suspicious'?" Jude muttered. "Gotham locals are so rude."
He pulled the tiny pumpkin lantern from his pocket. The expression carved into it was nearly as ugly as the one found at Johnny Vitti's murder scene.
If Batman had to judge, the one in front of him seemed actually uglier.
"Where did you go after leaving the restaurant on Halloween?"
"Out on the streets. Mixed with the costumed crowds."
Batman's eyes narrowed slightly. Dissatisfaction flickered across his expression.
Seeing the situation deteriorate, Jude immediately backtracked. "Don't hit me! Don't hit me! I went to the Diamond District wearing that pumpkin headgear I carved!"
"Where's the headgear now?"
"At home. Haven't had time to—I mean, I still have it."
"Did you see the warehouse fire?"
When Jude heard this question, his heart stopped.