CHAPTER 368
Batman wasn't some lofty, untouchable hero.
On the contrary, like Spider-Man, he'd go to any lengths helping those who needed it—whether beggars or homeless people.
Batman simply wouldn't patrol streets specifically to arrest bike thieves or sandwich snatchers. Instead, he'd deploy his intellect and resources to address these problems at their root, even when such solutions proved extraordinarily difficult.
Batman pushed Norman Osborn toward becoming New York State Governor, perhaps even progressing to President of the United States. One reason was Batman's hope to improve conditions for those at the bottom.
Currently, Batman sat in an ordinary diner, watching the homeless man across from him wolf down food. His brow furrowed slightly. "You've received higher education. You should understand what suddenly consuming large quantities of food does to your body."
The homeless man tilted his head back, gulping down juice, then smiled bitterly. "Sir, I've been homeless this long. Why care about my body's health now?"
"Even if you're not the person I'm looking for, I'll arrange work and housing for you, advance two weeks' pay. You won't need to wander," Batman said.
"Who are you looking for?" The homeless man continued stuffing food into his mouth.
He absolutely didn't believe a wealthy person—extraordinary in both bearing and attire—could be seeking him.
"I'm looking for Dane Garrett Whitman," Batman said, watching the homeless man's unkempt face.
The man ate too urgently. A strand of matted, filthy beard had even curled into his mouth, but the homeless man paid no attention.
Only when Batman spoke the name "Dane Garrett Whitman" did he freeze completely.
"No, I'm not." The homeless man shook his head frantically in denial, even planning to bolt. "I don't know any Dane."
Batman nodded, having already reached his conclusion. "Nathan Garrett Whitman is your uncle, correct?"
Garrett's full name was Nathan Garrett Whitman—a name he'd never exposed in any records.
But Batman had considered that Garrett wasn't merely a Whitman family member—he'd also possessed the Ebony Blade passed down from ancestors. His surname should be Whitman, not Garrett.
Indeed, Batman was right. Hearing Batman state even Garrett's full name, the homeless man knew further deception was impossible.
He could only shrink into his seat somewhat fearfully, saying quietly: "That's right."
This statement indirectly confirmed the homeless man was indeed Dane Garrett Whitman, whom Batman sought.
"Sir, I've wandered six years. Even if my uncle Garrett became a criminal, it shouldn't involve me," Dane Whitman said.
"He's dead," Batman said.
Dane Whitman froze in his seat again. His beard trembled several times, then he silently reached for table food and stuffed it into his mouth.
Batman didn't rush him. Only after Dane Whitman had swallowed everything did Batman speak again. "Before dying, he entrusted me to find you and deliver the family heirloom—the Ebony Blade."
"Ebony Blade?" Dane Whitman wiped grease from his mouth. "I thought that was just a family legend."
"Clearly, it's not a legend," Batman said.
"Who are you?" Dane Whitman asked.
"I was his friend in life," Batman said. "Peter Parker."
With Garrett dead, Batman speaking this as Peter Parker left Dane Whitman no method of verification.
Besides Tony and Batman, no one knew about Garrett's deathbed instructions regarding the Ebony Blade. Batman had no intention of exposing his Batman identity to Dane Whitman.
"I see. Mr. Parker..." Dane Whitman didn't seem overly immersed in grief over his uncle's death. Perhaps six years of homelessness had thoroughly numbed him. "When can I start work?"
Compared to the Ebony Blade, the first thing Dane Whitman thought about after eating his fill was escaping homelessness, not family legends.
"Now you'll answer several questions, Dane," Batman said. "First, how long have you been in New York?"
Dane Whitman answered without hesitation: "Six years. I've wandered New York's streets the entire time."
Batman nodded. "Second question—why did you appear outside the charity auction?"
Dane Whitman looked oddly at this young wealthy man named Peter Parker. "Mr. Parker, I'm homeless. I go wherever rich people gather, wherever there's food."
Batman stared into Dane Whitman's eyes without speaking. He could tell Dane's presence there wasn't coincidental.
Dane Whitman couldn't maintain composure long under Batman's gaze. He quickly raised both hands, honestly explaining his true purpose: "Recent news said Black Knight Garrett fought Iron Man in New York. After that I lost all information about Garrett... I wanted to see if I could meet Iron Man Tony Stark."
"Though now that seems unnecessary."
Batman reached into his suit's inner pocket and extracted some bills. "Tomorrow afternoon, come to the abandoned shipyard in the lower district. Someone will meet you there."
"Can I ask who in advance?" Dane Whitman immediately grew wary. "You know, Mr. Parker, ever since Osborn Industries used homeless people for human experiments..."
Dane Whitman didn't finish, but the implication was clear.
"Someone like you," Batman said.
After arranging a clean hotel for Garrett and leaving enough dollars for new clothes, night finally fell.
At the edge of the Adirondack Mountains, Batman wore his Arkham suit. Beside him stood Lizard Professor and Devil Dinosaur.
They were waiting for someone.
Fortunately, the expected person wasn't late. From New York's direction, a black dot bounced closer. The approaching figure quickly became clear in the darkness.
It was little girl Lunella. Unlike Batman's previous encounters, though she still wore overalls, T-shirt, and denim jacket, her hands, feet, and back now sported numerous gadgets.
Her shoes seemed to have extreme springiness, her hands wore what looked like prank boxing gloves that could pop out, and the item on her back resembled a rocket pack more than a backpack.
She'd bounced from New York toward the Adirondacks using her equipment, each forward step covering at least dozens of meters.
Batman had sent her specific coordinates, letting Lunella navigate without getting lost.
But when she got close enough, she seemed to freeze, bouncing in place but not daring to approach.
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