The consensus in the hall, unspoken but unanimous: the Riddler was in some discomfort.
It had been so close. A win assembled with precision, deployed correctly, unfolding exactly as planned—right up until it wasn't. The freak Bike Stripper cornered, all three of them in the same trap, no teammates to sell out, no exit to slide through. For a man who prided himself on solving puzzles, having the final piece click into place was supposed to feel a certain way.
Then Batman arrived.
It's fine, the Riddler had told himself, listening through the phone. Trading Killer Croc for the Ventriloquist isn't a loss. Two-Face can still get out.
Then Batman put a hook through Harvey Dent's collar in three seconds flat.
Fine. Killer Croc and Two-Face for the Ventriloquist and Thor. Still net positive. This wave is not a loss.
Then Killer Croc grabbed the second grappling hook, went through the wall like it was cardboard, and Jude walked out of the building.
The Riddler stopped talking mid-sentence and sat down.
He lit a cigarette. The smoke rose. Nobody said anything. The assembled super-criminals watched the smoke rise and found other things to look at.
A subordinate came in from the corridor.
"Boss. The Bike Stripper is back."
The Riddler drew on the cigarette.
"Boss—" The man hesitated. "He says the mission is complete. Should I just... tell him to leave? That seems a bit—"
"I'll hurt your head."
The phone went first—an arc across the room, making contact with the wall at considerable velocity. His men processed the shift in energy and relocated themselves through the door with impressive speed.
"Meeting dismissed."
He left the hall.
"—and it's worth noting that despite ongoing conflict in the Park District, Upper West Side, and East Side, the casualty rate has dropped significantly. Gotham Hospital's intake numbers are down for the third consecutive week. This city still has hope, Bill."
"What hope? The war ends when one side wins—that's it. Bruce Wayne's donation accelerated the timeline. Without it, all three zones would still be bleeding out daily. For once in his life, the man made a useful decision."
"Interesting position, Frank, given that you've spent two months calling Batman useless. Last night alone he captured the Ventriloquist in a building on the Upper West Side, then Two-Face and Killer Croc—without joining either faction. How do you explain that?"
"I explain it by noting that Two-Face and Killer Croc had already subdued the Ventriloquist before Batman showed up. He walked into a finished fight and made arrests. Opportunism dressed up as heroism. Besides, he's technically a criminal himself—if he'd committed to one side at the start, the war would've been over weeks ago."
"You're describing a man who protects civilians and supports Kite Man's rescue operations as morally equivalent to the Joker. I think the citizens of Gotham have already decided which category he belongs to, Frank."
"I'm saying the law has decided—"
"Good morning, everyone. Let's discuss our next steps."
The next day. The Riddler looked rested, which mostly meant he'd had enough time to achieve equilibrium.
"Batman's intervention cost us Two-Face and Killer Croc," he said, covering the losses the way a general covers losses—factually, without dwelling. "However, he also cleared the Ventriloquist and the Falcone thugs in that area, which means the Joker's remaining assets are: Man-Bat, Mr. Freeze, Mad Hatter, Solomon Grundy, and Oswald Joker called Penguin." He paused. "We outnumber them. We press that advantage."
He looked across the room.
"Thor."
Jude stepped forward. "Boss."
The Riddler's expression registered this and moved on. "Four missions completed. You're experienced. This time I'm giving you something significant."
"The reason the Joker can still hold part of the Upper West Side with his remaining people is the Mad Hatter—Jervis Tetch. His mind-control headgear has kept a substantial portion of the Falcone family's soldiers under hypnotic loyalty. Remove Tetch, and the Joker's ground forces evaporate overnight." He folded his hands. "You're going alone. The Mad Hatter is a hypnotist with a gadget—not a physical threat. One shot ends the equation. I trust your marksmanship."
Jude considered this.
"...Where are my teammates?"
"There are no teammates. You go alone."
"Right. And if Batman—"
"Don't be a coward." The Riddler's voice dropped into a register that had stopped being conversational. "My patience with you is not infinite, Thor. You know what happens if you refuse a direct order."
Around the room, the remaining super-criminals—Ivy, Clayface, Zsasz, Firefly—watched Jude with expressions ranging from mild curiosity to quiet agreement. The unspoken consensus: the Riddler not drawing his gun right now was already a demonstration of exceptional self-control.
Jude looked around the room.
"Okay," he said. "But if Batman shows up, I need authorization to retreat."
The Riddler looked at him for a long moment.
"Triple bonus."
Jude straightened up. The black robe settled around his shoulders with something approaching dignity.
"Rebuilding the glory of the Riddler's organization," he announced, "is our duty."