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"This is interesting," Morin thought.
He stopped what he was about to do and turned toward the source of the voice.
Gotham's police were mostly just a façade. Otherwise, these low-level thugs wouldn't dare set up shop in an alley so close to a police station, openly mugging people while being largely ignored.
He said "mostly" because this time, an unexpected variable had appeared.
A uniformed police officer stood there, Glock raised, aimed straight at them.
Under the weak moonlight, Morin's eyesight clearly picked out the man's face.
His thoughts immediately settled.
No wonder this person would bother interfering.
It was Gordon. Batman's old flame. And the future Commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department.
"I'll say this again, and I won't say it a third time," Gordon said coldly. "Put down your weapons. Hands behind your heads. Squat."
"Alright, Gordon, you really like sticking your nose into other people's business," the lead thug said, clearly annoyed but resigned. "We're leaving."
He knew Gordon well enough.
One of the few cops in Gotham who didn't take bribes. Still stubborn. Still righteous.
To the thugs, that didn't make him noble. It made him inflexible. A nuisance.
They looked down on the police, but provoking them outright was another matter entirely. Especially for small-time trash like them.
If they had that kind of courage, they'd be robbing people in broad daylight instead of hiding in alleys.
Then again, if they were really that capable, why rob at all? Wouldn't bigger business be more profitable?
As a result, the lead thug-whose skills capped out at alleyway muggings-made the rational choice.
Let this one go.
After all, the cop had a gun.
"Then get lost," Gordon said, clearly uninterested in escalating things.
These people had records, sure, but nothing beyond petty theft and robbery. At most, they'd sit in a cell for a bit and walk right back out.
This time, they hadn't even succeeded.
A complete waste of effort.
Even Gordon had learned to adapt to Gotham.
He hadn't become corrupt, and he still upheld the law, but he'd long since accepted certain realities.
When he first joined, he'd been hot-blooded. Wanted to change everything.
After years of setbacks, his goal had narrowed.
Don't become one of them.
If he could help, he would. If he couldn't, he wouldn't force it.
He'd followed Morin into the alley for a reason.
From his skin tone to his clothes to his bearing, Morin didn't look like a local nobody. On the street, he'd stood out immediately.
If something happened to someone like that, it would be trouble.
So Gordon intervened.
In his mind, Morin was probably some foreigner who'd wandered into Gotham without understanding what kind of city this was.
After making sure he was safe, Gordon planned to give him a warning.
The lead thug waved his hand, signaling his people to leave.
Then a voice stopped them.
"Come on," Morin said calmly. "You're really just leaving like that?"
"I don't think I've said anything yet."
Gordon's heart sank.
Why would you speak now?
Letting them go wasn't just laziness. Experience had taught Gordon a rule: never corner Gotham's thugs.
With half the department rotten, the badge barely scared anyone anymore.
Push them too far, and they'd do anything.
He had a gun, yes.
But did they?
The alley was narrow. The distance was close.
If they rushed them-
"Get lost!" Gordon snapped. "And you-say less!"
The lead thug hesitated, then decided it wasn't worth it.
He turned to leave.
Morin didn't say another word.
He stepped forward and dropped one thug with a single punch.
"Fuck!"
"Shit!"
Curses exploded as the others reacted.
We were leaving, and you attack first?
Do you think we have no dignity?
Weapons came out.
They rushed Morin.
Gordon froze.
Are you insane?!
He raised his gun, finger tightening on the trigger.
Then he stopped.
Morin vanished.
No-he became a shadow.
The shadow flowed through the cluster of thugs. Two, maybe three seconds passed.
Then they all collapsed.
Not a sound.
Morin hadn't used his full strength.
This was a demonstration.
If he went all out, it would've ended in under a second. Gordon wouldn't have seen anything.
So he chose a speed just beyond Gordon's understanding, but still visible.
The reaction didn't disappoint him.
Only when Morin reappeared in front of him did Gordon finally move.
His face was pale. His gun came up instinctively.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "Stay back!"
He didn't understand what he'd just seen.
Didn't understand what had happened.
But he understood one thing.
The man in front of him was dangerous.
Morin didn't intend to push him further.
The point had already been made.
Under Gordon's tense stare, Morin smiled.
"I'm the new police officer," he said. "Haven't reported for duty yet, Sergeant Gordon."
"I'm the new-"
"Haven't reported for duty yet-"
"Police officer..."
The words echoed.
One by one, they settled.
"...You said," Gordon began slowly, licking dry lips, "you're a new officer who hasn't reported yet?"
"Mmm."
"Joining the GCPD?"
"Yes."
"Proof?"
"Of course."
Morin reached into his pocket and handed over a document.
"You can put the gun down. If I wanted to, you wouldn't have time to fire before you ended up like them."
"...Alright."
Gordon lowered his weapon.
He knew Morin was right.
And Morin didn't seem hostile.
He took the document.
Then frowned.
The alley was too dark to read anything.
Morin lifted a finger, casting [Light Orb].
Soft light filled the space.
"Thanks," Gordon said automatically, then looked down.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Sweat formed on his forehead.
He wasn't reading anymore.
He remembered where the light had come from.
Slowly, stiffly, Gordon turned his head.
"What's wrong?" Morin asked.
Gordon's eyes locked onto Morin's hand.
"...Your finger is glowing?!"
"Oh. This?" Morin thought briefly.
The light went out.
Then turned back on.
"See? Just a small light bulb. Changes colors too."
A magician's finger light rested there-something Morin had pulled from storage as an excuse.
He didn't care much either way.
If he planned to do anything in Gotham, hiding was pointless.
A little ability was inevitable.
"...I see."
Gordon swallowed.
He was certain what he'd seen earlier wasn't a prop.
But he wasn't calling Morin out.
Not after what he'd witnessed.
Someone who could become a shadow and drop a dozen men in seconds wasn't normal.
That much was obvious.
So Gordon adjusted.
If Morin wasn't human, then a glowing finger wasn't strange at all.
With that mental shift, everything became easier.
No wonder he'd later work with Batman.
His focus returned to the document.
After checking it repeatedly, Gordon confirmed it was genuine.
At least, the document was.
As for Morin himself...
Forging papers might not be difficult for someone like him.
"I can take you to the station to finish processing," Gordon said carefully. "But them..."
He glanced at the thugs on the ground.
Morin had moved too fast. The alley was too dark. They hadn't made a sound.
"Oh. They're dead."
Silence.
Fear crept in.
Not just at Morin's methods-but at his tone.
It was flat. Casual.
Like saying the weather was nice.
How many people had he killed to speak like that?
Gordon suddenly felt like he'd stepped into something far bigger than he could handle.
"Ahahaha, were you scared?"
Morin's laugh jolted him.
Then he realized.
"I was kidding. They're not dead. Just unconscious."
"Ahahaha, were you scared?"
Morin's laugh startled Gordon again.
"I was kidding. They're not dead. Just unconscious."