"This is Gotham TV. The kidnapping of Commissioner Gordon earlier today ended quickly thanks to the intervention of Batman. We are now joined by the rescued victim himself, Commissioner James Gordon. Commissioner, how do you feel about Batman once again saving the day for the police?"

The young, glamorous reporter held out the microphone. Gordon, standing beside her, looked less than thrilled—like a man holding in the world's worst stomachache. If not for the self-control that still tied him to professionalism, he would've liked to walk off camera the way Adam surely would have.

"This happened because of me, so I take full responsibility," Gordon said flatly, his voice heavy. "But it's only fair to say this: while, yes, Batman ultimately intervened, it was Adam—the acting director of the Arkham Branch—who walked into the slums alone and got me out. He also eliminated the gang's leader. Without him, I wouldn't be standing here."

Coming from someone who'd worked with Batman as long as Gordon had, this kind of public credit was rare.

Elsewhere, Gotham Police Director Loeb even called a press conference—something he seldom did—to praise Adam's actions.

"This officer risked his life to save a fellow cop. He persisted till the end and showed the dedication and ethics a police officer should have," Loeb declared. "I don't understand why some people would ignore his role and instead hand all the glory to a vigilante who uses illegal force. That would be a betrayal to those who work and sacrifice quietly every day."

At that moment, inside a quiet bar, Adam lay slouched over the counter with an ice pack on his forehead, watching the TV. Jason had just gotten home from school and was sulking—he'd missed the "fun" of storming into the slums with Deadshot to "rescue" Adam. Now, seeing Adam all over the news distracted him.

"Why's everyone at the station talking about you?" Jason asked, leaning over with a curious look. "You bribe them or something?"

Adam lifted the ice pack just enough to give him a lazy glance before answering. "Bribe the cops? No. But I did slip some cash to the press. When the 'uncrowned kings' of media get paid, they at least don't write you into the ground."

He gestured to the TV. "As for Loeb… he has to protect the department's image. If, every time we solve a case, all the credit goes to Batman, the GCPD will look like useless props. From his position, he needs to make sure Batman doesn't overshadow the force. In this case, there was only one obvious candidate to serve as the 'official hero'—me. So even if he didn't like it, he had to throw his support behind me."

Jason blinked, realizing for the first time just how much politics went on behind the scenes. Then another thought struck him. "If that's how it works, why didn't you just stay for the interviews? You could've gotten more exposure."

Adam pressed the ice pack over his eyes with a groan. "Because Gordon's testimony is enough to build the narrative. I told the TV crew I had urgent business back in Arkham. That way, I keep a little mystery, and Gordon's words carry my reputation for me. One move, two wins."

What Adam didn't mention was the real reason—being slung around in the Bat-Fighter had left him dizzy and queasy. He suspected his face would have looked so sick on camera that it would have cancelled out all the good PR.

The bar door creaked open and in walked Nygma holding a thick stack of papers.

"I waited for you at the station forever," he said with a grin. "When you didn't show, I figured you'd be here."

Adam eyed him warily. Usually, Nygma didn't wander around unless he had an agenda. The sight of that stack of documents confirmed Adam's suspicion that trouble was on the way. He started to get up to leave, but the Riddler stepped right in front of him.

"I read the paper this morning—full of praise for you going into the line of fire. Got inspired myself, so I've been hard at work. These—" he handed Adam the pile—"include the proposal for setting up a Prohibition Enforcement Unit. You might want to look at that."

Nygma knew exactly which button to push. Mentioning a unit that could become Adam's direct line of loyal officers was bait he couldn't ignore. Even feeling half-dead, Adam sat up and started skimming, occasionally asking about some of the reports Nygma had handled. Credit where it was due—the man was annoyingly good with tedious, detailed work. The only danger was if he ever decided to get too ambitious.

"You sure you don't want to prepare an inauguration ceremony?" Nygma went on, pacing the bar like a showman. "I've written you a killer speech—guaranteed standing ovation. Rituals may be fluff, but they tap into basic psychology. People will start seeing you as the real boss of Arkham."

Jason frowned and said, "But Adam's just the acting director. Not the actual one."

That seemed to light a fire in Nygma.

"Exactly why he should make himself impossible to replace! We should clean house—get rid of the disloyal and bring in our own people. I could act as your monitor on the inside, keep tabs on everyone, and make Arkham a fortress. Then, even if Loeb wanted to remove you, he couldn't find anyone to take your place."

Adam watched him, amused and mildly impressed.

'Not bad,' he thought. 'He's finally thinking strategically… but there are better ways to secure my position than going full-blown coup just yet.'