DC: My Name Is Not Billy Batson [New]

"What did the man with the bandage tell you to do?" Dane asked.

"He told me to take control of Catwoman and steal the $10 million the killer crocodile had taken as ransom," Poison Ivy replied.

"Then I was supposed to deposit the money in a designated location. Finally, he tasked me with controlling Superman to confront Batman."

Dane tapped his fingers on the table, silently contemplating. Poison Ivy, standing nearby, didn't dare to disturb him. Her eyes darted nervously, betraying her own thoughts.

"How do you communicate with him?" Dane asked.

"He contacts me unilaterally. I have no way to find him."

It wouldn't be hard to locate Hush, Dane mused. All he had to do was keep an eye on Thomas Elliott or dig up the Riddler's grave. But that wasn't his plan.

Clark Kent hadn't fully emerged into the public eye yet, but Hush had already taken advantage of him. That meant Hush had intimate knowledge of Clark's personality and weaknesses. There was only one person who fit that description—Batman.

However, Hush wasn't Batman. Dane surmised that Hush must have stolen the plan from Batman's Batcomputer and adapted it to manipulate Superman.

He activated his AI assistant. "Cortana."

"I'm here, Dane," Cortana responded.

"Can you access Batman's computer? Check if anyone's tampered with it."

Ever since Dane had bypassed the Batcomputer's firewall in the past, Bruce Wayne had upgraded the system significantly. But Dane was confident it wouldn't be enough.

In less than three seconds, Cortana breached the enhanced security designed by Batman and Barbara Gordon. The intrusion revealed the issue.

"This computer has been compromised, sir. A monitoring program is active."

Dane nodded. It made sense now—every step of Batman's plan was being monitored, leaving him vulnerable.

Bruce would inevitably notice the breach and identify the likely suspect: Harold, his personal computer consultant.

Dane remembered Harold well—a humble, deaf, and mute man with exceptional talent in computing and mechanics. Batman had taken him in, giving him a place in the Batcave to showcase his abilities.

Now, however, Harold appeared to have betrayed him. While he might not have done it willingly, his actions had put Batman in a tight spot. In Gotham, trust was always a fragile commodity.

Meanwhile, across Gotham City, Batman arrived at the Clock Tower. Waiting for him was Deathstroke, clad in his signature yellow and black uniform.

"Look who it is—Batman," Deathstroke said mockingly.

The mercenary knew Batman's identity as Bruce Wayne, but he had no interest in revealing it. For Deathstroke, it was always about the money.

Over the years, many in Gotham had offered to pay Deathstroke to kill Batman. Though he'd nearly succeeded several times, his discovery of Bruce Wayne's dual identity had made him abandon those missions. Killing Batman and killing Bruce Wayne were two entirely different paychecks, and the insult still rankled.

"You didn't spend all that money just to admire the view with me, did you?" Deathstroke said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Batman asked. "Was it you who targeted Nightwing?"

Deathstroke smirked but didn't deny it. Nightwing, Batman's protégé, had been attacked while chasing Catwoman. The fall had been brutal—his outdated suit offering little protection, leaving him with a fractured skull.

Before Nightwing could recover, a gang ambushed him. If Red Hood hadn't intervened in time, Dick Grayson would have been killed.

Deathstroke shrugged. "Someone paid me $10 million to cut his rope. Why wouldn't I take the job?"

Batman clenched his fists. Ten million—the exact amount of the ransom. His instincts were right; everything was connected, orchestrated by the same mastermind. But what was the purpose?

He recalled the moment when Poison Ivy had controlled Superman, a scenario he had once anticipated and prepared for. It dawned on him—this could only mean one thing: Hush had stolen the contingency plans from the Batcomputer.

"Do you have any other clues about the employer?" Batman asked, his voice low and deliberate.

Deathstroke smirked. "You know me, Bats. I take the money and don't ask questions. I'm a mercenary, not a detective."

He hesitated for a moment before adding, "But for an extra $20 million, I'll give you a bonus tidbit: Clayface is working for him too."

With that, Deathstroke turned and left, his disinterest in lingering evident. Batman, however, committed every word to memory.

Back at Wayne Manor, Batman brought Catwoman with him, intending to investigate Harold about the Batcomputer breach. But Harold was missing.

The realization struck him—Harold may have betrayed him. Before Batman could delve deeper, Barbara rushed into the cave, her voice filled with panic.

"Bruce, it's Dick! He's taken a turn for the worse—he says he's having severe headaches!"

Batman quickly called Thomas Elliott. "I need to move Dick back to the hospital immediately," he said, urgency creeping into his voice.

Thomas's reply was curt. "Bruce, his injury is in the brain. Moving him now could have catastrophic consequences."

Reluctantly, Bruce used the Batcave's advanced medical diagnostics to verify Thomas's assessment. The findings were conclusive—Elliott was right.

Bruce hesitated before asking, "Tommy, could you… come to the manor? I need your expertise."

Elliott arrived at Wayne Manor within ten minutes, bringing a full medical team.

"I knew you'd screw this up, Bruce," he said with a smug expression.

Bruce ignored the jab, focused solely on Dick's condition. For the next six hours, Thomas worked tirelessly, stabilizing Nightwing once again.

Meanwhile, two sets of eyes were monitoring Thomas's every move. One was Batman's, through the manor's surveillance system. Despite scrutinizing every detail, Bruce found nothing overtly suspicious.

The other was Dane, who had hijacked the manor's surveillance footage through a backdoor in the system. Unlike Bruce, Dane was certain: Hush was Thomas Elliott.

Dane's certainty stemmed from a separate revelation. At that very moment, in Gotham General Hospital, another "Dr. Thomas" was meeting Harold. This impostor, Dane deduced, was none other than Clayface, acting under Hush's orders.

Curious about Thomas's true intentions, Dane decided to investigate his stronghold. Using astral projection, he infiltrated the hospital in spirit form.

In the basement beneath the meeting point of Clayface and Harold, Dane discovered a hidden laboratory.

The lab was filled with chemical reagents and advanced equipment for studying biological tissues. At its center was a computer, conspicuously disconnected from the internet.

This setup was clear evidence: Thomas Elliott had been preparing in Gotham for a long time. His sudden appearance at Wayne Manor wasn't a coincidence.

In one corner of the basement, Dane found an isolation cell. Inside was Harleen Quinzel, long thought missing.

Though Harleen couldn't see Dane in his invisible, magical form, she seemed to sense his presence.

"Who's there?!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the sterile lab.

Dane watched her with interest. Despite her confinement, she didn't seem to be suffering physically.

As he surveyed the lab, Dane grew more certain—Thomas Elliott's plans were deeply rooted, and Gotham was merely the first step in his grand design.

"This is no coincidence," Dane whispered to himself. "Hush has been playing a long game."

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