Robin's POV
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Breakfast at Wayne Manor was always weird.
It had the normal bits—eggs, toast, coffee, a world-class butler fussing over whether or not we were getting enough nutrients—but the conversation?
Well, most families didn't spend their mornings talking about gang wars, vigilante justice, and bloodstained rooftops.
I casually flipped open the newspaper I'd brought to the table and slid it toward Bruce. "Sooo, did you see this yet?"
Bruce, dressed in a plain black t-shirt, didn't even look up from his tablet. "I saw it."
"And?"
He took a sip of coffee. "It's speculation."
I tapped the headline with my fork. "Gang War on the Horizon?" Underneath was a grainy shot of a rooftop covered in Black Mask's dead enforcers.
"Speculation, huh?" I echoed. "You sure it has nothing to do with that Julius Spencer kid Black Mask has a bounty on?"
Bruce's fingers stilled for half a second before resuming.
I smirked. Gotcha.
"I mean, think about it," I continued, leaning forward. "We know his best friend disappeared, probably dead. We know Black Mask went after him personally. He's been connected to at least one crime scene with four dead, and witnesses around the bus stop said they saw a couple of guys chasing a kid that matched his description. Five minutes later, they're all wiped out? It's not speculation, Bruce."
It was self-defense at best and retaliation at worst.
Bruce exhaled slowly, setting his coffee down.
"You hacked into the Batcomputer again."
I didn't deny it, spearing a sausage and chomping down on it. "You should really tighten security," I said.
"I will."
I froze mid-chew. "Wait, what?"
"Starting today."
Oh snap. He's serious. I haven't even gotten to my pitch yet. I carefully set my fork down. "Okay, let's not do anything drastic."
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
"Just saying," I continued, trying to backpedal, "if you shared more, I wouldn't have to go looking. I'm your sidekick. Let me sidekick. You've got bigger fish to fry, especially this week, than this Julius guy. Let me track him down for you."
"No."
Alfred, who'd finished setting down the fruit basket, placed a fresh cup of tea at his seat at the table with a loud clink, and Bruce glanced up.
"Master Dick might've be a bit forward, but he does have a point."
I grinned. Best butler ever.
"Lex Luthor arrives in Gotham today," Alfred continued, and Bruce's jaw tightened. I was there when Superman warned him that Luthor had set his sights on Gotham. Luthor told the news he was coming to lobby for a Green Energy contract, but everyone knew that Luthor didn't care about the environment. I was a cover for something else.
"I should probably point out that you're still healing from that back injury after the whole Killer Croc debacle," I added, taking a slow sip of my orange juice.
Bruce finally looked at me. "They're still analyzing DNA found at the scene, but if they're right, Julius Spencer gunned down four men on a rooftop and escaped without a scratch. Since he has no formal training, he's likely enhanced or not not working alone. You're not ready for him."
"Come on," I said. "What's the alternative? He could get himself killed, or worse, kill more people in the meantime. He's not on any of the city's CCTV either."
The kid just up and vanished. If he weren't the tiniest bit terrifying, I'd be impressed.
"YOU. ARE. NOT. READY." Bruce's eyes bore into me. The piss-your-pants-Batman stare had made many a villain and thug fold, but I'd gotten so many times over the years that I was immune.
...well, mostly.
"Then when will I be ready?" I asked Bruce, some heat leaking into my voice. "You're supposed to take me to the League headquarters in a month. It's a solo tracking mission. I've done it hundreds of times before with supervision and a few times without at your order. One more won't make a difference."
Bruce stayed quiet and unflinching the entire time I talked. I could've spoken more carefully, but it was the right call. Bruce knew it. He was just holding me back.
I looked at Alfred for backup, but he seemed far more occupied with his breakfast.
Traitor!
Bruce finally spoke just before I started making ill-advised empty threats about going off on my own.
"You will maintain a distance of 100 yards at all times. You will not engage him under any circumstance, and you will flee at the first sign of trouble."
The patronizing instruction nearly overshadowed the joy of receiving a yes.
I pumped my fist under the table but still scoffed. What was I? Nine again? I'd been doing this for four years.
"I've tracked high-risk targets before."
"And the orders are clear," Bruce said. "Working with the League comes with more risk and responsibility, and that requires precision. Hacking into computers and disobeying orders won't fly."
"What if I see him attack someone?" I asked, testily.
"Call it in, and I'll decide."
I wanted to point out that I'd have seconds at most to react when something like that happened, but Bruce didn't look like he was in the mood.
I should be happy that I'd squeezed out the "Yes" from the famously cagey Dark Knight.
This was another test, even if he hadn't said as much, and I understand why it needed to happen.
The world's eyes were on the League, meaning every win and loss was magnified. If I screwed up, Bruce couldn't cover for me, not with the government or the affected parties.
Being a Leaguer was as much about politics as it was about superheroics.
And I needed to prove I could cut it or risk staying a sidekick forever.
I finally took another bite of my sausage, and Batman returned to reading his tablet.
The meat went down uneasy.
You've come too far to back down now.
"Won't let you down," I said, flashing Bruce a smile. "Scout's honor."
He didn't look convinced.
–
A burst of static crackled from the arena speakers, followed by a squealing giggle that sent the crowd into a frenzy.
The giant screen above the entrance flickered, revealing the last person I expected—dressed in a colorful red and black suit.
Harley Quinn.
"Aftertah noon, ya sickos and degenerates!"
The whole damn place erupted—cheers, stomping, whistles. The very walls shook with the energy of the crowd.
Then came her voice again, playful and sharp as a knife.
"I hope ya got yer drinks topped off and yer bets placed, 'cause it's Battle Royale time!" She paused, letting the anticipation build. "All fresh meat, report to the arena for the fight of your life!"
"That's you," Sally said, nudging me, but I couldn't get over the fact that Harley Quinn was the announcer.
Even if I thought "Bloody Royale" was a bit tacky... and worrying.
"Harley Quinn is your announcer?"
"So? She allowed to do her own thing. Can't be stuck with Joker her entire career," Sally huffed, and I strangely agreed. It didn't make this whole situation any less weird, though.
"So, you going in or chickening out?"
I blinked, thrown off by the sudden question.
"What's the pot for the first fight?"
"Two thousand for the winners," she grinned.
I tried to keep a straight face. That was generous.
"Guess I better get in there, then," I said, slipping on my mask. It adhered to my face just like Sally said it would.
"I'd tell you good luck, but don't look like you need it."
"Any advice?"
"Fight like your life depends on it. Just 'cause Ivy don't like death doesn't mean you're safe."
"Solid advice."
"Head over to the big guys with the scary guns near the fighting area. They should already know about you."
That wasn't surprising, considering how much time had passed since I met Sally.
"Welp, that covers everything," she said, hands on her belt as she spun around. "I got good money riding on you. Don't croak."
Odd girl.
As soon as she was out of sight, I brought up my status screen.
It was time to use some of my free stats. I came here to level up and grind, but I couldn't do that if I didn't survive the first round.
I had eight stat points to play with and six categories that could use love, but I focused on my strengths—Agility, Perception, and Cursed Energy.
I split them evenly, with Perception getting the short end. I had well over forty in it—damn exceptional for most humans. The other stats needed it more.
Name: Julius Spencer
Race: Meta-Human--Sorcerer
Class: Sorcerer Level 5 (3rd Grade)
Techniques: Inverse Lv 2
Health: 370/370
CE: 350/350
SP: 380/380
STR: 27 AGI: 35
PER: 47 VIT: 37
END: 38 CP: 35
Free points: 0
As Sally promised, the guards waved me through when I approached the stage, joining the fifty-something others waiting in the sand.