Anna adjusted her mask, still pinching her nose, as she cautiously followed Nygma and Otis over the police tape, stepping onto slick rocks covered in slimy moss.
The site where the remains had been discovered was a shallow beach near an old drainage outlet. Several pale, twisted pieces of human limbs had been pushed onto the shingle by the tide, looking jarringly stark under the grey morning light.
"It's right here, Mr. Nygma." Anna suppressed the churning in her stomach, pointing to the white, waterlogged fragments of tissue caught in the crevices of the rocks. "And there's more over there."
Nygma crouched down. With a gloved hand, he gently moved a severed arm, examining it with intense focus for a long moment.
"No significant blood splatter at the site of discovery; the skin shows the wrinkling and pallor of prolonged immersion… This isn't the primary crime scene," he murmured.
He pointed his cane toward the nearby circular drainage pipe, which was spewing filth like the throat of a giant beast.
"Significant edema in the tissue, edges worn down by the current… They weren't dismembered here. They were carried here by the water from upstream and got caught on the reefs and trash."
Just then, Otis let out a low cry. "Mr. Nygma, Officer Anna! Over here… there's another one!"
Behind several rusted metal structures lay a male corpse, face down.
Unlike the meticulously carved body parts, this corpse was stripped bare—not even his underwear remained. Half of his right hand was missing, and several bruises were visible on his skin along with a hideous, deep gash across his throat.
Most strikingly, despite being stripped of his clothes, the metallic skull mask of Black Mask's gang remained firmly on his face.
"One of Black Mask's men…"
Anna whispered, her voice tinged with tension. "It seems even the vagrants know this mask is too hot to handle. They only dared to take the clothes."
Nygma walked over, his gaze shifting between the mask and the neck wound.
"Precise blade work, a single lethal strike. But the technique… is entirely different from the dismemberments. This is more… direct. Crude."
He pondered for a moment, then turned to Anna. "Anna, could you do me a favor and head back to the car? I believe there's a larger evidence bag in the trunk. We've found more here than anticipated."
"Of course, Mr. Nygma!" Anna didn't suspect a thing. She turned and navigated the uneven ground quickly toward the parked patrol car.
"Otis, those severed limbs were treated with chemicals to hide their origin. But you should know: a rat's sense of smell is ten times that of a dog, and at least fifty times that of a human—especially when it comes to tracking blood and specific chemical odors."
Nygma watched as Anna reached the car in the distance, then made a "please" gesture to Otis, pointing at the pale remains.
"I need you to have them memorize this scent. Gotham's sewer system is a labyrinth, but the rats are its indigenous inhabitants. Have them trace where this scent truly originates."
Otis looked at the body parts, a flicker of fear crossing his face, but his trust in Nygma won out. He nodded vigorously and walked to a slightly cleaner patch of ground nearby, pulling a bag of food scraps from his pocket.
His lips began to move, emitting a series of rhythmic, high-pitched whistles.
Bastian was the first to scramble out of his pocket. Then, from the rock crevices and abandoned pipes, came a rustling sound. Dozens, then hundreds of rats emerged from the shadows like a grey tide, converging silently and swiftly at Otis's feet.
"My, what a charming group of children." Nygma stood to the side with a smirk, watching the swarm finish the treats in the blink of an eye.
The rats began to grow restless around the remains, their tiny noses twitching violently. A moment later, Otis stood up and gave a short, sharp command.
The gathered grey tide vanished instantly, splitting up and heading in different directions. Along the way, more of their kind joined them.
Thousands of rats surged along the coastline and into the intricate network of sewers, racing into the heart of the dark, vast labyrinth beneath the city's skin.
…
Jay looked at the paper bag in his hand, which contained two kids' meals and two toys.
"Is this really going to work?" He glanced at the Snoopy toy in the bag, feeling a bit insecure. "To be honest, I kind of forgot about them."
While patrolling through the Old Town and passing the Gotham Free Clinic, he had suddenly remembered the Harper siblings, who had been taken in by Dr. Leslie Thompkins.
Since dropping them off, he had been so busy his feet hadn't touched the ground. It had been over a month since he last visited.
"Great… now I feel like my reputation is about as good as CPS."
He hopped out of the car, carrying the bag with a guilty expression, while Wilson followed behind him holding a large bouquet of flowers.
The receptionist paged Dr. Thompkins and told them to wait, as the doctor was currently with a patient.
"Right, thanks."
Wilson set the gifts on the counter and habitually leaned against it, striking up a conversation with the nurse. He seemed so into the chat he looked like he was about to lift his shirt to show off his scars.
Jay wandered aimlessly down the hallway. Passing an injection room, he noticed a long queue of patients.
At first, he didn't think much of it, but after a few steps, he stopped and doubled back.
These were low-level thugs, hoodlums, and mob hitmen. Even if nobody dared start trouble because of Dr. Thompkins, since when did this crowd have the discipline to form an orderly line?
He walked back and pushed open the door. A dozen patients stood in a neat row, each holding their own medication.
Behind the injection station at the front of the line were two nurses preparing vials, and a six-year-old girl with brown hair. She was wearing a medical mask and expertly administering intravenous injections to the patients.
What the…!!!
Jay felt like he might have hallucinated from waking up too early. He rubbed his eyes and confirmed it: the one holding the needle was indeed Harper.
"Stop moving. You're too fat; I might not hit the vein on the first try if you wiggle."
The man sitting at the station was a giant, likely weighing over three hundred pounds, his arms covered in bizarre tattoos and slogans. But instead of getting angry at Harper's complaint, he nodded with a wide, friendly grin.
"No problem, it's my fault for being too fat. Just poke me as many times as you need."
What kind of twilight zone is this? Jay stared, slack-jawed. Fortunately, Harper slid the needle into the back of his hand perfectly on the first try, and blood flowed steadily into the tube. She taped a medical bandage over the site, looked up, saw Jay, and waved.
"Hi, Officer Jay. Are you sick?"
"No, I came to see you. I brought kids' meals… do you want to eat now?"
"OK!"
Harper waved to the remaining patients. "That's it for today! See you tomorrow."
"Aww…"
the line immediately broke into a chorus of dejected groans. But seeing Jay's build and his sidearm, no one dared complain to his face. They just shuffled over to the other two nurses.
The two of them left the room. Jay, hearing the chaotic shouting resume inside, asked Harper hesitantly, "So… is Dr. Leslie actually hiring you?"
"No," the little girl shook her head. "I just watched and learned. Dr. Leslie lets me do a little 'internship' every day."
Watched and learned? Truly a Gotham-specific child prodigy.
"Listen…"
Jay tried to choose his words carefully, wanting to be supportive without ignoring the danger. "You know many diseases are contagious, and you're still small. Your immune system—"
"I know, Officer. That's why I have to learn the proper protocols to avoid danger. Isn't it the same for you police?"
"Uh… I guess that's a point. Though, I'm a Captain now."
He pointed to his shoulder insignia. Harper nodded, her face turning solemn. "Mm. It's good for a man to be ambitious about his career."
Jay slapped his own forehead, speechless as he watched her skip toward Dr. Thompkins at the front desk.
"Hi, Jay."
"Hi, Leslie."
Jay shook her hand. "Detective Gordon hasn't been around much lately?"
"Don't you know? That Black Mask character has the whole department running ragged. Even my clinic hasn't had a moment of peace; people with injuries are coming through the door every day."
Dr. Thompkins sighed with exhaustion. "But it's Gotham; it's always something. And I heard the new Commissioner hasn't even taken office yet and is already leaking word that he's going to 'clean up' the force."
Cleaning up the force now? Is this guy an idiot?
Jay didn't know what to say. Just then, two gang members burst through the door carrying a comrade whose stomach was gurgling blood.
"Doctor! Doctor! Help!"
Dr. Thompkins immediately called for orderlies with a stretcher. Harper, looking unfazed, grabbed her burger and tried to follow the commotion, but Jay caught her and sent her upstairs to join Cullen, who was reading. Only then did he leave the clinic.
Back at the precinct, a man in a tattered shirt and shorts was shivering at the front desk, reporting a crime. The duty officer, Marcus, was lazily scribbling on a notepad. He looked up and waved at Jay.
"Hey, Captain!"
"Hey, Marcus! Why are you pulling desk duty?"
Before the officer could reply, the man in shorts rushed over and grabbed Jay's hand. "Captain? You have to help me!"
"What happened?" Jay asked Marcus while picking up the report. Only a name was scrawled on it.
George Harkness.
"What else? Just a warm welcome from the Gotham tourism board," Marcus shrugged. "Adding some unforgettable memories to his life."
"I just saw a lady fall in an alley! Her purse dropped! I went to… to pick it up for her, and then I was knocked out. When I woke up…" the man gestured to his lack of clothing. "I was like this."
If this were 2077, you'd be missing your internal organs, too, Jay thought, but he didn't say it.
"My condolences." He patted the man's shoulder sympathetically. The tattered shirt smelled awful; he had likely picked it up off the street after being stripped.
"Look on the bright side. At least you had the privilege of seeing this city's true foundation."
——————
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