Homelander is in DC

"Master Bruce, what did you find?"

"A silver coin."

Bruce examined the ancient-looking coin in his hand. "It's engraved with an owl on the front. This must be an Athenian owl, which first appeared on ancient Greek coins, symbolizing wealth and power. I don't believe this is an ordinary coin."

Wiping away the mud and water from the coin, Bruce recited a nursery rhyme: "Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send the Talon for your head."

"... Alfred, have you heard this nursery rhyme?"

On the other end of the communicator, Alfred was silent for a moment. "Master Bruce, you know it's just a nursery rhyme. They don't exist."

"I've seen this symbol before! A mysterious individual was killed, and even after searching the state and federal databases, I found no record of his DNA. The gruesome death of this mysterious person revealed an owl emblem on his third molar, identical to the one on this coin."

Bruce pocketed the coin, stood up, and gazed into Gotham's hazy night.

"I know what you've been through, Master Bruce. You've been pursuing that elusive organization, but—"

"Alfred, I always thought I understood Gotham, but the truth is, I don't."

Bruce interrupted the butler. "When I have too many thoughts, it means I've sensed countless blades behind me. Facing the threat of these blades, I can only remind myself to stay more vigilant."

"I suspect the man just now is definitely related to the Court of Owls, or he—might be the very Owl I've been chasing."

Bruce recalled Eric's every move, his eyes filled with caution.

To subdue him in an instant, if someone with such strength becomes an enemy, how would he fight against him?

An unobservable power and a deep understanding of him—Bruce exhaled a breath of murky air, frowned, and looked towards the distant city skyline.

A bolt of lightning split the night sky, illuminating the city before vanishing instantly.

"I glimpsed the true nature of this city for a moment, even if so briefly, it was still within my sight."

On the other side, the trio in the alley took a deep breath after seeing Batman unfold his wings and disappear into the night.

"I think... Batman must be very frustrated," said the red-haired girl Holly to the others. "He didn't manage to defeat the thug."

The brown-haired boy disagreed with his companion, "The man with the umbrella is not a thug. He gave us a dollar. Such a generous person can't be a bad guy."

The short kid nodded in agreement with the brown-haired boy, "I think David is right. That man with the umbrella is stronger than Batman. How about we give him a nickname, 'Umbrella Man'?"

"I think Mr. Oswald (the Penguin) wouldn't be happy."

David, the leader of the trio, shook his head. "Let's put the nickname thing aside. Did you hear? Batman found a silver coin. Maybe we can find one too and take it to Sister Selina. She would be very happy."

David looked at the unconscious gang members on the ground, his face filled with eagerness.

Walking on the streets of Gotham, Eric was unaware of what had happened behind him.

However, he had anticipated the story that would unfold because of "a silver coin."

He had deliberately left that coin for Batman.

He believed that with Batman's "great detective skills," he would soon uncover clues about the Court of Owls lurking in Gotham.

Even if Batman couldn't find those hidden rats, the trophies Eric brought from the Metropolis Court of Owls—gold and silver items with obvious owl features—could lure these owls out.

What kind of plot would unfold between Batman and the Court of Owls when their paths crossed?

Eric was very much looking forward to it.

Making Batman miserable while also making the Court of Owls suffer was a win-win situation that he always enjoyed.

Stepping through the rain, Eric refocused his thoughts and turned his gaze to the building in front of him—the Iceberg Lounge.

The brightly lit place stood out sharply in the rainy night.

It was one of the few places in Gotham that stayed brightly lit all night.

The Iceberg Lounge's owner, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, also known as the Penguin, controlled one of Gotham's largest criminal empires, with significant power and wealth.

The Iceberg Lounge, owned by the Penguin, was one of the few places in Gotham that openly conducted underground transactions.

Eric had come here to make a deal with the Penguin.

Although he wasn't particularly interested in getting involved with the mob, Gotham didn't offer a better tool to use than the Penguin, so he had to come to his lair personally.

Closing his umbrella, Eric pushed open the door and entered the lounge.

A young waiter in a tailcoat immediately came to greet him.

"Do you have a reservation, sir?"

"Of course."

Eric casually showed the waiter his black umbrella. "It was raining when I left, so I grabbed an umbrella. It might seem odd, but this should be the Penguin's umbrella, right?"

The umbrella was one he had taken from the Penguin's home. With his super speed, taking an umbrella without being noticed was an easy task.

The two waiters exchanged glances, looking puzzled.

The receptionist's face changed upon seeing the umbrella in Eric's hand. "Sir, please follow me."

The receptionist used the communicator in her collar to speak softly to someone on the other end, then led Eric upstairs.

On the way, many burly men in suits gave Eric hostile looks, ready to fight at any moment.

Eric, the center of attention, remained calm, seemingly unconcerned about his fate.

The female receptionist, seeing Eric's calm demeanor, felt a mix of admiration and pity.

She led Eric to the top-floor suite belonging to the Penguin and left.

Eric pushed open the door and entered.

In the luxurious room, a short man with a hooked nose, wearing a black suit and gray tie, with sparse yet unruly hair, was sitting on the sofa, half his body hidden in shadow.

Seeing Eric enter, the man's gaze fell on the umbrella in his hand, revealing a look of surprise and confusion.

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