Chapter 360
Even though the critically important full-wave projector had already fallen into Batman's hands and played an irreplaceable role in dealing with Black Knight Garrett, Lizard Professor still felt returning Devil Dinosaur to Lunella let Reed off too easily. He couldn't stop thinking about making Reed bleed a little more.
"Professor, what degree of control can you achieve over reptiles using pheromones?" Batman didn't pursue deeper conversation about Reed, shifting topics instead.
Lizard Professor picked at the dirt lodged between his claws. "If you need an army of lizard-men..."
Batman cut him off before he could finish. "No. What I want to know is whether you can send pheromone-influenced reptiles out into the field, then have them report back everything they've seen and heard a day later."
Lizard Professor stared at Batman. His dark green scales began softening continuously, melding with the underlying muscle to form skin. The vicious bone spikes along his back retracted into his spine.
After several breaths, Lizard Professor transformed from his three-meter-tall reptilian form back into the one-armed appearance of Dr. Connors.
"Peter, while I can influence reptiles through pheromones, the ability you're describing is completely beyond my capabilities. I'm not a xenomorph queen. I don't have hive consciousness," Professor Connors said.
"Call me Batman," Batman's voice dropped low. "Unless I've removed my suit, at all other times I am Batman, not Peter Parker."
Professor Connors nodded. If he hadn't already known Batman was Peter Parker, even he would have difficulty connecting the young Peter Parker with this expressionless, cape-wearing freak who only showed his chin.
"I can't even communicate with it..." Professor Connors gestured toward Devil Dinosaur, sprawled on the ground snoring loudly. "I can only use pheromones to transmit my own intentions."
Batman followed Professor Connors' gesture to Devil Dinosaur. The creature's injuries had completely healed. Even the broken horn atop its head showed faint signs of regrowth.
"You seem to have a new plan that requires my participation?" Professor Connors asked curiously.
"Not anymore." Batman shook his head slightly, hesitating for two seconds before telling Lizard Professor his purpose anyway. "I couldn't locate a young man named Dane Whitman through information systems. I wanted to see if you had any methods to find him."
"Dane Whitman? Never heard of him. Which scientific field?" Professor Connors asked, puzzled.
"He's not from the scientific community," Batman said.
These past two days, besides forging new equipment for Blade and continuing to refine the Alfred AI, Batman had devoted much of his remaining time to searching for Nathan Garrett's nephew—the Dane Whitman Garrett had wanted to find before dying.
Unfortunately, Batman didn't possess the Whitman family genealogy. Hacking into the USCB—the US Census Bureau—had turned up tens of thousands of "Dane Whitmans."
But after the current Alfred AI, which could only receive and execute instructions, performed a screening, none of these proved to be the Dane Whitman Batman actually sought.
The only suspicious candidate had completely vanished several years ago in a fire. Batman had attempted to contact everyone and every method once associated with him, but without exception, all claimed the man had died in that blaze.
Beyond him, Batman found no other Dane Whitmans with higher probability. This made Batman's search attempt like finding a needle in a haystack, with no place to begin.
"Looks like I'll have to wait until the Alfred AI deployment is complete and let Alfred try," Batman thought.
Professor Connors thought for a good while, ultimately shaking his head repeatedly. "I've gone through everyone I know. Still no one by that name."
Batman did something rare—he proactively patted Professor Connors' shoulder, indicating he needn't dwell on this matter.
Unlike Dr. Otto or Professor Morbius, Professor Connors had never committed any errors since his mutation began.
Dr. Otto, controlled by his mechanical tentacles, had killed thirty-one police officers. He'd chosen to atone by developing the artificial sun and prosthetics, hoping to change the world.
Professor Morbius had similarly killed seven or eight prisoners on Ryker's Island. He now remained on North Brother Island under supervised conditions.
But Professor Connors was different. Even when his body underwent mutation, he'd never taken another person's life.
Combined with the two months of help Professor Connors had provided Batman—assistance no less valuable than Dr. Otto's—Batman's attitude toward him had quietly shifted.
In simpler terms: "comrade-in-arms," the same as Dr. Banner.
Among all the scientists on North Brother Island, only Professor Connors held nothing back from Batman regarding his own condition. Banner, Dr. Otto, and Morbius all maintained some degree of reservation with Batman.
"Don't worry, I have other methods," Batman said, turning to leave Professor Connors and Devil Dinosaur behind as he got into the Batmobile and headed straight for neighboring North Brother Island.
Hell's Kitchen.
Atop a sixteen-story building, the Kingpin Wilson Fisk had changed into his signature white suit, a simple cane in his hand.
He'd been standing on this rooftop for a full three hours.
Unlike the prosperous district centered around Manhattan's Fifth Avenue—which remained brilliantly lit even after nightfall—when darkness descended on Hell's Kitchen, the lights gathered more in casinos, bars, basements, and dance floors.
From Kingpin's vantage point on the sixteenth-floor rooftop looking down, the streets below held little beyond dim streetlights and flickering neon on precarious advertisement boards. No other significant light sources.
This area counted as pitch black.
Kingpin appeared to be waiting for someone. And when midnight struck, the person he'd been waiting for indeed arrived.
"Kingpin. I didn't expect you'd come back," a low, suppressed voice came from behind him.
Kingpin turned around. Seeing the figure in a dark red bodysuit, holding two billy clubs, chin exposed, he smiled with the warmth of a benevolent father.
"Daredevil. I knew you'd come see me. These past few days waiting on this rooftop weren't wasted."
As he spoke, Kingpin's gaze traveled past Daredevil's shoulder into the darkness beyond. "You seem to have brought companions? Is that Batman?"
Kingpin spoke while moving slowly toward Daredevil, leaning on his cane.
Daredevil tightened his grip on his billy clubs, shifting his body sideways to maintain distance from Kingpin while simultaneously revealing the figure standing behind him—someone far taller and larger than himself.
That wasn't Batman. If Batman were human, you could tell from his exposed jaw that he was Caucasian.
But the person currently standing behind Daredevil, cloaked entirely in black.
"I'm Luke Cage," he said. "This is Jessica Jones. We're here to give you trouble, Kingpin."
Kingpin's brow immediately furrowed. His gaze traveled back and forth between Daredevil and Luke Cage, quickly realizing his mistake.
The "Jessica Jones" Luke Cage mentioned didn't refer to Daredevil—it meant a woman.