How could one make Gotham a city without crime?

It was, without a doubt, an incredibly difficult question.

So difficult that even someone like Batman—who had dedicated his entire life to fighting crime—had never managed to find an answer.

Yet, at the same time, the problem was absurdly simple.

So simple that it didn't even need deep thought or planning.

How to make it happen?

Just kill every criminal.

Cut the problem off at its root—swift, brutal, final.

For someone like Batman, that was an impossible path. His moral code would never allow it.

But Alex's sense of morality, while present, wasn't nearly as rigid.

He had no problem using lethal force when the situation called for it.

"Then it's decided."

A faint smile curved Alex's lips as he made up his mind.

"Let's see… who's unlucky tonight."

He activated his super hearing, and in an instant, the entire city of Gotham came alive in his mind—every sound, every scream, every heartbeat overlapping into a chaotic symphony.

"Hand over your money—now!"

"You cheating whore! I'll kill you!"

"When's the shipment arriving?"

"Are you insane? You stole from William's crew?!"

...

Only Gotham.

Only here could you hear this much crime just by listening.

And that was with Batman already prowling the city, keeping criminals in check.

If it were Gotham in its "free-range" days… Alex didn't even want to imagine.

"Well then—let's start with you."

His focus locked onto a group mid–drug deal.

That would be his first move—the opening battle in his purge of Gotham's underworld.

But suddenly, the corner of Alex's mouth twitched upward. His stride faltered.

Whoosh!

Something sharp whistled through the air—a glint of silver under the moonlight, streaking toward him like lightning.

Alex casually reached out and caught it midair.

Clang!

The metallic sound rang clear.

It was a batarang.

And then—

Whoosh, rustle!

The sound of a cape cutting through the wind followed.

From above, a dark figure dropped from the rooftops, landing squarely in front of Alex.

A shadow with horns. A flowing black cape.

Batman.

Blocking his path.

"You really think you can just kill people and walk away like nothing happened?" Batman's modulated, gravelly voice cut through the night.

"They were robbers, not monsters. Their crimes didn't warrant death!"

Alex's lips curved into a mocking smile.

"And you?" he sneered. "Don't forget—you're a criminal too."

Batman didn't deny it. His tone was calm, resolute.

"Nothing in this world comes without a price," he said. "This is the price I've chosen to pay."

Crack!

The sound of metal breaking.

Alex closed his fist—and the batarang shattered like cheap glass.

He tossed the fragments to the ground with disdain, as if discarding trash.

Batman's code, his idealism, his unwavering belief in "no killing"—it was part of him. Nothing Alex said would change that.

So he didn't bother trying.

For people like Batman, persuasion was pointless.

You had to beat them until they understood.

If once wasn't enough, then twice.

If twice didn't work, then three times.

After all, Alex thought with a smirk, he's the one getting hit, not me.

"Batman," Alex said evenly, "enough talk. Are you really sure you want to get in my way?"

"I still need you alive for later, so I won't kill you. But tell me—do you enjoy hospital beds that much?"

"At least," Batman growled, "it's not a prison cell."

Thunk!

Before Alex could respond, Batman hurled several gas pellets at his feet.

Hiss—!

A thick, stinging cloud erupted around Alex, engulfing him instantly.

Batman let out a slow, relieved breath.

He'd seen Alex's speed before—so fast he could barely follow it with his eyes. He'd been afraid Alex might dodge or counter before the gas took effect.

But this time, it seemed he'd caught him off guard.

...Or maybe Alex had simply underestimated him.

Either way, it worked.

Or so he thought.

The smirk forming under Batman's cowl froze.

Because from within the smoke—

—A tall, broad shadow began to emerge.

And then Alex stepped out.

Calm. Unfazed.

Breathing steady.

Completely unaffected.

Batman's eyes narrowed. His face hardened.

This man was far more dangerous than he'd imagined.

Still, Batman never quit.

He clenched his jaw and lunged forward, closing the distance in a blink.

Bang!

A single punch.

Batman didn't even see it coming.

It hit like a freight train, sending him flying backward through the air.

He crashed into the ground with a heavy thud, his vision spinning. His ribs screamed in protest.

So this was Alex's strength—raw, terrifying power.

Seeing Alex slowly advance toward him, Batman quickly reassessed.

He couldn't win in a straight fight.

The only chance was to outmaneuver him—to wear him down, to outlast him.

He fired his grappling gun.

Thunk!

The claw latched onto a wall, and Batman soared upward, moving with practiced precision.

At the peak of his swing, he flipped himself onto a nearby rooftop.

Time for hit-and-run tactics.

But as soon as he straightened—

He froze.

Because Alex was already there.

Standing a few feet away, smiling.

How?!

Batman's mind reeled.

He'd fired, swung, climbed—all in seconds.

How did Alex beat him there?!

"Hopefully this time," Alex said lightly, "you'll learn your lesson."

Before Batman could react, Alex grabbed him by the chest and lifted him into the air—one-handed.

Despite Batman's muscular frame and combat training, he might as well have been a ragdoll.

He struggled—but it was useless.

Alex's grip didn't budge.

It was like trying to fight gravity itself.

Then Alex's gaze flicked downward.

There—below the rooftop—was a large dumpster.

He grinned.

"Alfred," he called casually, "come pick up your boss."

And with that, Alex effortlessly hoisted Batman higher—

—and prepared to toss him.

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