Starting With Batman

The entity of the monster was wiped out, but the outbreak into its spiritual form worsened the situation again.

It generated a spiritual storm that manifested as turbulent winds.

The infected individuals stopped laughing, collapsed, and began to revert back to their previous states, but as the transparent storm rolled through. Their crazy smiles returned, and the chaos resumed.

Everyone resumed fighting and biting, and the chaotic dance of demons began anew. The brief pause was merely akin to a halftime break, but now, the referee blew the whistle to start the second half.

Ivan pulled an old man off a girl, flung him aside, shot him in the leg, and continued to communicate with the correspondent at the headquarters through his headset.

"Reinforcements haven't arrived yet?

"Help is on the way; it is expected to arrive within five minutes, please hold on a bit longer..."

"Tsk, I have an update. The situation has changed," Ivan interrupted impatiently, crushing the leg of a madman beneath his foot while talking. The monster has been killed, but the spirit has gone berserk, forming some kind of mental storm. In terms of spreading infection, this thing seems more powerful than before; even I have been somewhat affected."

Ivan had received special training in the Ninth Division; he knew how difficult it is to infect someone of his caliber.

But now, he felt an oppressive atmosphere descending like a black cloud, almost suffocating. The crowd laughing wildly and releasing violence seemed to form a black wall, overwhelming him from all directions.

There was also that penetrating laugh that seemed to permeate his bones, echoing endlessly in his mind as if playing on a loop.

Even as a special agent, he was disturbed, and he couldn't imagine how much impact this storm would have on ordinary people.

There was a noise from the other end of the headset, followed by another voice soon after.

"Ivan, this is Professor Miyazaki from the Department of Infection Research. Can you hear me?" Professor Miyazaki's voice sounded from the other end.

"I hear you."

Crack, Crack...

Ivan broke two more legs while speaking. Infected people can't feel pain, and physical trauma can't stop them from laughing wildly, but it can effectively limit their actions.

"We've got a preliminary reading of your location.

I have only theoretically deduced the magnitude of the spiritual storm released by the source of infection. To be honest, it is the first time I have seen such readings. It is incredible. The power of these existences is really magical."

"Professor, can you get to the key points? I'm in a hurry here." Ivan interrupted, feeling a bit irritated.

For some reason, listening to the professor's voice seemed to excite him a little.

Can staying around these scientists cause infection as well?

Best to stay away from now on.

"Okay, okay, I'll get to the conclusion." Professor Miyazaki said, "In short, the mental storm cannot be perpetually maintained. To maintain such an output, there must be a source of infection at the eye of the storm. Eliminate that source of infection, and the storm will naturally subside."

"So I should just shoot it?"

"No. If a long-range strike fails to kill it in one blow, it will intensify the storm and cause even greater irreparable damage."

Ivan paused for a moment, then looked at the dark storm. The sky above seemed to twist and writhe as if it were alive, the storm's center pulsating with a malevolent energy. It was a sight both mesmerizing and terrifying.

"That means I have to go to the center to ensure the source of infection is resolved?"

"Exactly. Someone needs to go in and make sure head hits the ground."

"But I doubt this infected individual will die even if his heads are severed, right?"

"Really?... so it's one of those... It's fine, even if decapitation doesn't kill it, it will prevent the source of infection from sustaining the mental storm, achieving the desired effect."

Professor Miyazaki paused and added, "Of course, it would be dangerous to do so. The infection intensity of the spiritual storm may be higher than that of conventional infection sources. Honestly, even if a specialist enters, I can't predict the outcome..."

Ivan was silent for a moment, then smiled lightly.

"Professor, are you suggesting that I might end up like these people?"

Looking at the crazy crowd surrounding him and the chaotic setting that seemed to turn into a distorted nightclub's dance floor, the streetlights flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows that danced with the deranged movements of the infected. As the only sober person, Ivan felt out of place on this chaotic dance floor.

"I want to remind you that even if you successfully eliminate the source of infection, it may have an irreversible impact on you," said Professor Miyazaki. "Even if you save everyone, when the support team arrives, they may not be able to save you..."

"Don't worry."

Ivan lit a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and walked toward the dark and transparent storm while changing the ammunition in his gun. The storm seemed to react to his approach, tendrils of dark energy reaching out as if sensing his intent.

"I'll save a bullet for myself if necessary."

After a pause, he grinned broadly.

"Professor, by telling me this method, you're implying that this is what I should do, right?"

"I didn't say that. I just told you the solution and the stakes. As for what measures to take, it's your own decision..."

Immediately, the line was cut, and a crisp female voice sounded in the headset.

"Wait there for backup. This is an order."

It was Melanie's voice. Although she was much younger than Ivan, she was his superior.

Ivan smiled.

"Orders? You know those can't restrain me." He lit a cigarette and continued walking toward the storm's center with slow but firm steps. The air grew colder, the laughter louder, and the world around him blurred at the edges. "If I really wanted to obediently obey orders and follow the rules, I would be your superior."

Melanie's voice softened a bit.

"Ivan, you don't need to go. The support is coming soon, and the team at the headquarters is also studying other countermeasures..."

"Even if there is, we can't wait any longer." Ivan interrupted her calmly. "Professor Miyazaki is right. This is the best solution at the moment, and I happen to be the most suitable candidate. My time has long been stagnant. I work for the Ninth Division, the only purpose of living to this day is to find a suitable end. If today is that time, it's a worthy death. I will not regret it, and no one will regret it for me."

He grinned broadly, took a deep drag on his cigarette, and tossed it aside. The embers glowed briefly before being snuffed out in the storm.

"Because the people who would feel sorry for me...are six feet under."

After speaking, he cut off the communication without giving a chance to reply.

By this time, he was already close to the periphery of the storm, greater layers of wild laughter followed. Distorted phantoms began to appear before his eyes. There were men and women, old people and children, all with horrifying and distorted smiles on their faces. Their eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, and their movements were jerky, like marionettes on strings.

That's just at the outermost edge. He didn't know if he would be safe if he went in, but he didn't care.

Because, like coming to this casino tonight, he didn't need a reason for what he was doing; it was just a whim. Even if he was killed, he didn't care.

Ending this disaster alone and then taking a bullet sounded like a cool way to die.

The corner of his mouth hooked into a determined smirk.

Definitely a worthy death.

Unfortunately, Ivan won't get the chance to act on his whims, not this time...

He felt a tightness in his ankle. Before he had time to realize what was going on, a huge force pulled him to the ground, dragging him far from the storm. Finally, he was thrown head down and feet up, hanging upside down under a street lamp.

"What are you doing...!?"

Ivan, who looked like a tragic hero marching to his death, was interrupted mid-way and found himself hanging upside down in an undignified posture. His face twisted with frustration and anger.

He tried his best to look down toward his feet, only to see Batman standing on top of the street lamp. The Dark Knight looked down at Ivan, his black cloak billowing in the storm, his eyes hidden behind the white slits of his mask.

Batman had pulled Ivan back with a grappling gun and hung him upside down on the lamppost.

"What are you doing?" Ivan was furious. "There is no time. Someone must stop that source of infection. I have to..."

Before he could finish speaking, Batman had already jumped down. The Dark Knight didn't say a word, ignored Ivan's yelling, and strode toward the center of the storm with determination. His movements were precise and calculated as if he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Ivan was stunned.

This guy...does he intend to save me and then go into danger himself?

"Wait!" Ivan struggled desperately, trying to stop Batman. "Come back!"

But still, there was no answer.

The Dark Knight disappeared into the storm, leaving only his solid back with his cape billowing. The storm seemed to react to his presence, dark tendrils of energy reaching out as if to grasp him, but he moved forward with unyielding resolve.

This city only needs one hero...

Batman

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