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"Could it be..." Falcone seemed to realize something.
"That's right. I suspect he's definitely from the FBI or some other secret agency, and an elite among elites."
The more Flass spoke, the more convinced he became. "He was sent to Gotham to gather intelligence. He might've been recording or filming everything to collect evidence. If we really lay a hand on him, that could be exactly what he wants."
"Think about it. A police officer and a gang leader teaming up to kill another police officer..." Cold sweat soaked Flass's back as he spoke.
Falcone felt the same.
The two of them looked at Morin at the same time.
Ah. So this was a trap. Bait meant to lure them into biting.
Morin: "..."
With his hearing, he had caught every word of their conversation.
Why were these two being so dramatic? Was this what they called creative imagination? He was almost starting to believe them himself.
Outwardly, his expression stayed calm. Carefree.
"What? Didn't you say you wanted to kill me?"
Morin suddenly had an idea. A half-smile appeared as he decided to play along.
"What are you waiting for?"
"I knew it!" Ă—2
Both Falcone and Flass felt their hearts sink. Their suspicion solidified instantly.
He's too young. Too impatient. Good thing I saw through him.
Flass made eye contact with Falcone, then turned to Morin and took the initiative to explain.
"It's like this. You've misunderstood... uh... what was your name again?"
"Morin. Officer Morin."
Let the show begin.
"Well, Officer Morin, you've misunderstood. This was just a small misunderstanding. Mr. Falcone was joking."
Flass started improvising. "He was angry and spoke out of frustration."
"Oh?" Morin glanced at the circle of gunmen around him. "And these people?"
"Put them down. All of them!" Flass waved urgently.
The thugs looked at Falcone.
"Put them down," Falcone said, lips twitching.
Now that he was almost certain Morin's background wasn't simple, his priority was getting through this safely. A little compromise was acceptable.
Of course, he was also ready to have his men shoot if things went wrong.
"But I think I saw drug trafficking here," Morin said. "How do you explain that?"
"T-that..." Flass was thinking hard when he suddenly noticed Hugh Haas, silent since the beginning.
An idea struck him.
"Hugh Haas must know about this!"
"You tell me," Morin said, looking at Hugh Haas.
At the same time, he secretly controlled him to say exactly what Falcone and Flass wanted to hear.
Morin planned to keep this chess piece around a little longer.
Once Hugh Haas was convicted, he'd be sent to court. Falcone would likely ask Crane to intervene and send him to Arkham.
At that point... there might be something useful to gain.
Morin's original plan today was just to show his face and get a feel for Gotham.
As for killing people directly, he could do it. He just didn't want to.
The reason was simple.
Plowing through everyone was fast, but it didn't make money.
His plan was long-term. He wanted to maximize profit.
Besides, what was the fun in wiping everyone out?
With so many worlds and stories, what was the point if he didn't get involved and change some of the past regrets?
Morin wasn't a robot clearing stages. He'd never treated this like a game.
He wanted to make up for the regrets he'd felt watching these stories before. Rewrite them. Leave his mark.
Only then would his past experiences feel meaningful.
"It was all my idea," Hugh Haas said under Morin's control, his face full of fear. "I got greedy. I secretly let those dealers sell drugs in the bar. This is all on me. I did it alone."
Falcone's eyes shifted slightly.
Good. A loyal subordinate. Very self-sacrificing.
Don't worry. I'll make sure you live.
"So it was you!" Flass shouted. "Didn't you know drug dealing is illegal? Prepare to face the law!"
Morin was expressionless.
He poured himself another drink and took a sip, signaling for them to continue. He would just watch.
He wasn't going to believe any of it. Hugh Haas was part of the act too.
Morin was the puppeteer. Hugh Haas was just moving as told.
Soon, Flass cuffed Hugh Haas. He took photos, collected the drugs, and followed procedure with practiced ease.
At the same time, he explained, "Morin, we're colleagues now, so let me say this. Mr. Falcone is actually a legitimate businessman. Some subordinates just occasionally break the law."
"Let's leave it at that. If you run into something like this again, come to me. I'll handle it better."
"By the way, you finished your onboarding today, right? That means you don't have a partner yet?"
"I do," Morin said. "Jim Gordon."
"Gordon..."
Flass almost said something else, then stopped. His face flushed.
Even with his thick skin, this was hard to handle.
Who was Gordon?
How could Flass not know?
Not long ago, Gordon had been his partner.
The only one in the department who hadn't been corrupt.
And now Morin, fresh out of training, was Gordon's partner?
That meant Morin must've known something beforehand.
Which meant he understood Gotham.
So earlier...
I wasn't fooling him at all.
I was the monkey.
Flass spiraled, and his wariness toward Morin deepened.
He'd always felt Morin had a terrifying aura.
Now it felt even stronger.
"Oh... I see," Flass said with an awkward smile. "That's fine then. I'll handle this. You can leave."
"A little interesting," Morin said, looking at Falcone. "Is that what you think too?"
"Of course." Falcone forced out a smile. "Just a misunderstanding."
"Then I hope..."
Morin drained the bottle and slammed it onto the bar.
The bottle shattered.
The stone counter collapsed.
"...that there will be more misunderstandings like this. It's the end of the year. Time to hit my performance goals."
He walked out without looking back.
"No matter who you pick as the scapegoat, I want to see him at the station tomorrow. And in court within a week."
The thugs, shocked by the destruction from a single blow, didn't dare shoot. They made way.
Falcone stared at Morin's retreating back, grim-faced.
He didn't dare stop him.
"You did well," Falcone said after Hugh Haas came back to his senses, patting his shoulder. "I'll have Crane diagnose you and send you to Arkham."
"Don't worry. They have to follow the law."
"Thank you, boss," Hugh Haas said, bowing his head.
"I'll take him back," Flass said. "Should we report this to Commissioner Loeb-"
"You do it. And make sure he finds out who that person is."
Falcone snorted, turned around, got into his car, and left.
He only dares act tough with me.
If you're so brave, go pick a fight with Morin or Loeb.
Flass cursed inwardly but didn't show it. Hugh Haas was still there.
Later, Flass called Commissioner Loeb and reported everything, emphasizing his suspicions and Morin's combat strength.
Loeb was shaken.
After hanging up, he didn't sleep all night.
Based on Flass's exaggerated description, Loeb had already concluded that Morin was sent by an organization on the FBI's level.
This time, the investigator was open, powerful, and blatant.
What was their goal?
If his actions were exposed, prison was inevitable.
"I have to find out who this Morin is tomorrow..."
The next day.
Wayne Manor.
"Master Bruce."
Alfred approached with a newspaper.
"I think you should see this."
"What is it, Alfred? I'm busy. Can't you just tell me?"
Bruce didn't turn around. He finished the last stroke of paint and stepped back to admire the armor.
"I do have eyes, Master Bruce," Alfred said dryly. "It seems someone has acted before you."