The Death knell

Descending the stairs, two men wearing identical armor wandered around Bat's company, paying no attention to the surveillance cameras overhead. They moved carelessly, showing complete disregard for any security measures.

Albert stood on the rooftop when he arrived, uncertain of the situation. However, seeing that Cindy seemed unconcerned, he suspected she was intentionally trying to draw out Batwoman.

Sauntering into Bliss Vayne's office, Cindy shattered the glass of the wine cabinet, retrieving two bottles of fine liquor without giving the blaring alarm a second thought. She uncorked a bottle, took a swig, smacked her lips in satisfaction, and nodded.

Tossing the other bottle to Albert, they casually stepped into the elevator and headed straight down.

Under normal circumstances, Deathstroke would never take an elevator—too risky if the power were cut, trapping him in a confined space or sending him plummeting down the shaft. But since Cindy walked in without hesitation, he followed suit, trusting that she had already neutralized any threats on the lower floors.

His improved intuition and analytical skills allowed him to piece this together quickly, a mental agility he never possessed before his time travel. If he had been this sharp back then, he could have easily earned scholarships at any school.

"Ding!"

The elevator doors opened on the first floor, revealing a chaotic scene. The lobby was in shambles, with over a dozen security guards sprawled across the floor, their fate uncertain. Furniture lay shattered, and debris was scattered everywhere—unmistakable signs of Cindy's handiwork.

Albert surveyed the aftermath, noting that several of the guards were strikingly beautiful women. It was no surprise, considering the Vayne Group's reputation for hiring attractive staff.

He was still unaccustomed to this world where women dominated and men were the weaker sex. His instinct to appraise a woman's beauty lingered, even though this world's norms were the complete opposite of his own.

"Let's go. They're all alive," Cindy called out impatiently, noticing Albert lingering among the debris. She had deliberately spared the guards, intending for them to report back to Bliss.

Although the chances of luring out Batwoman were slim, it was worth a shot. Defeating these guards required minimal effort, after all.

"Did you drive here? Do you know where Harley is?" Albert asked.

"Of course. Harley should still be hanging around with Rigoletto's circus, right?"

They stepped out into the rainy night through the shattered front door. A group of women loitering at the street corner quickly dispersed when they saw Deathstroke emerge from the building.

These onlookers had hoped to exploit the Vayne Group's compromised security, but they wanted no part of whatever mission Deathstroke was on.

Cindy's car was parked across the street—a battered American Jeep with an interior that was a chaotic mix of garbage and weaponry. Rocket launchers were piled in the back seat next to two massive ammunition crates.

Albert climbed into the passenger seat, immediately finding a grenade underneath him. He handed it to Cindy.

"Your grenade."

"No, it's yours," she teased, her laughter muffled under her mask. Turning the key, she added, "And don't bother trying to seduce me. I only work for money."

Albert's eyes widened behind his mask. Seductive? He was just returning her grenade...

"In this world, men are the weaker sex. Usually, women pursue men, giving them flowers, gifts, and so on. Eventually, the men 'marry' them," Cindy explained.

Albert shivered at the thought. It was bizarrely backward from his own world. His earlier gesture could easily be misinterpreted as flirtation.

Cindy started the engine, and they sped off into the rainy night, the streetlights casting shifting shadows through the windows. Albert busied himself preparing weapons for the confrontation ahead.

They were heading straight into the Clown Gang's territory, searching for Harley Quinn to confirm whether the world was truly on the brink of destruction.

The Clown Gang was notoriously insane, their fanatical loyalty to the Joker rendering them unpredictable and extremely dangerous. If they couldn't be incapacitated, they would likely blow themselves up just to take their enemies with them.

Albert decided against using the two guns strapped to his legs. He wasn't ready to kill, only to incapacitate. The electrified staff he held would do just fine.

"Does the security guard also carry electric batons? Is that why I ended up in Deathstroke's body?" he wondered aloud.

Silence filled the car as Albert finished his preparations. He broke it, uneasy with the quiet. "I don't like Gotham. This city... It's a bit too crazy."

"Why?" Cindy asked, glancing over curiously. "I remember being quite popular here."

"Yeah, me too... but our straightforward style doesn't fit this city. People here think differently," Albert admitted, struggling to articulate his discomfort.

Cindy laughed, running a red light and splashing water on a man standing on the curb. The drenched man pulled out a gun and fired at them, but Cindy merely flashed her taillights mockingly before speeding away.

"True, the people here are insane. If it weren't for all the business opportunities, I'd rather live in Star City," Cindy remarked.

Albert couldn't help but agree. Gotham was full of madness. The Clown Gang's hideouts were scattered across abandoned buildings, their walls painted with garish clown faces and playing card motifs, now streaked by the rain.

One building down the street glowed with colorful lights. Music and rhythmic thuds echoed from within.

"Seems like our little Harley isn't as heartbroken as we thought. She's working out," Cindy noted, recognizing the sound of boots hitting the wooden floor amidst the heavy rock music.

In the main universe, Harley Quinn had once been a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Fascinated by the Joker's chaotic mind, she fell madly in love with him, eventually helping him escape. Despite her loyalty, he often used her as bait or as a tool against Batman.

But this was Earth-11, and things were different. Here, Harley might be linked to Rigoletto, a gender-swapped version of the Joker. Or perhaps not. The DC Multiverse was notoriously unpredictable.

"Let's go. Time to see what's got Harley so riled up," Cindy said, moving toward the entrance.

Albert followed, preparing himself for the chaos that awaited inside. In Gotham, madness was the only certainty.