CHAPTER 389 - 390: HOMELANDER VS. GOTHAM POLICE AND BATMAN

"Around seven o'clock this evening, the elevator car of Winston Hotel's A2 lift suddenly plummeted from the thirty-fourth floor!" "Luckily, Homelander happened to be on the scene. With godlike strength, he caught the falling elevator with his bare hands!"

"There were six passengers inside at the time. Without Homelander's intervention, there's no doubt they would all be dead."

"Investigations suggest that the elevator's fall was not an accident-it was sabotage."

"Someone remotely detonated a bomb to cut the elevator cables!"

"No question, this was a deliberate criminal act!"

"Under Homelander's iron-fisted rule, Gotham has gone half a month without a single crime. This is the first case in fifteen days."

"And it's clearly a provocation-someone is challenging Homelander!"

"The question is-can Homelander deal with it the way he always has, wiping out every criminal in his path?"

News of the Winston Hotel incident spread across Gotham like wildfire.

Within hours, every major network, newspaper, and social-media feed was talking about it.

Ordinary citizens and criminals alike were fixated on the same thing.

For Gotham's citizens, the question was simple-

could Homelander still keep them safe?

Could they continue living in peace under his protection?

The officers' frustration grew by the hour. Not one person could make sense of the riddles.

Finally, Commissioner Gordon had no choice but to reach out to his old partner-Batman.

The two met again atop the police headquarters, beneath the cold glow of the bat-signal.

"Any progress?"

Batman's voice was low, clipped, and straight to the point.

He didn't bother with pleasantries; if Gordon had called him, it could only be about the Winston Hotel case.

"Unfortunately, no."

Gordon shook his head.

"I figured as much," Batman said, unsurprised. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have called me."

Gordon handed him a folded piece of paper.

Batman glanced at it, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"What's this?"

"Copies of the riddles the 'Riddler' left at the scene," Gordon explained. "I transcribed them before they were taken into evidence."

"The Riddler?" Batman arched a brow.

"That's what we're calling him," Gordon shrugged.

Batman said nothing more. He pocketed the paper with a flick of his саре.

"I'll see what I can find."

"I'm not trying to put pressure on you," Gordon added carefully, "but... Homelander may have already solved them."

Batman froze for just a fraction of a second.

"According to witnesses, after glancing at the riddles, he tossed the cards aside and said something about having 'already locked onto the answer.""

Gordon hadn't meant it as a jab, but he couldn't help noticing the subtle twitch at the corner of Batman's exposed jawline.

Without another word, Batman turned, cape billowing.

And with a rush of wind and the rustle of leather, he dove off the rooftop, vanishing into the dark like a shadow melting into night.

Gordon stood there, watching him disappear into the city's endless maze of lights and rooftops.

He sighed quietly.

Please... figure it out, Bruce.

Gordon wasn't interested in some unspoken rivalry between

Gotham's two protectors.

He just wanted that maniac off the streets.

Because geniuses like the Riddler-the ones who killed for the sake of

intellect and ego-were the most dangerous of all.

They didn't just cause chaos. They infected it.

As for the rest of the precinct, Gordon had long since stopped

expecting much.

Gotham was rotten-top to bottom.

The police force was no exception.

How many of his colleagues still cared about justice?

How many were just waiting for a bribe or an excuse to look away?

No-if there was anyone he could count on, it was Batman.

And sure enough, Batman didn't disappoint.

Later that night, after Gordon had spent hours at the precinct with

no progress and finally trudged home exhausted,

a familiar dark figure stepped out of the shadows of his apartment.

"His next target," Batman said in a low, grim voice, "is Harvey Dent-

the city's rising star prosecutor."

Gordon's expression hardened immediately.

"Harvey Dent..."

Of course. The one man in Gotham's legal system who hadn't sold out.

Like Gordon, Dent was clean, incorruptible, a man who refused to

bow to Gotham's rot.

He was the last glimmer of justice the city had left.

In just a few short months in office, he'd waged a relentless war

against the city's crime families.

Gordon admired him deeply.

And now, the Riddler wanted him dead?

"Absolutely not," Gordon muttered, clenching his fists. "Not on my

watch."

If even Harvey Dent fell, then Gotham truly had no hope left.

Across town, in a quiet apartment, Alex sat deep in thought.

"Harvey Dent..." he murmured. "Why does that name sound so

familiar?"

Then it clicked.

Two-Face.

Of course.

Harvey Dent-the man who would one day become one of Gotham's

most tragic villains.

A man who had started as a hero.

A man Alex himself couldn't help but respect.

"So it's him..." Alex whispered. His eyes narrowed, gleaming with a

hint of cold pity.

Even heroes could fall.

And in Gotham, they almost always did.

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