Gotham City had never been a stranger to chaos. It was a city where crime was the norm, where villains roamed the streets as if they were the rightful rulers of the night. But something had changed. Whispers spread through the underworld, a name passed from one fearful criminal to another—the Blue Spirit.
Jack had made his decision. The villains who had poisoned his city, who had taken his family from him, would fall. And he would be the one to bring them down. One by one, he would cut through Gotham’s criminal empire until nothing was left but ashes.
The first to go was Victor Zsasz. The serial killer who marked his body with a tally for each life he took was hunting his next victim when Jack found him. It was late, and the narrow alleyways of Gotham’s East End were dark, the perfect hunting grounds for Zsasz. He crept behind a young woman, his knife glinting in the moonlight, ready to strike.
But before he could, something fast—a blur of blue—slammed into him, sending him crashing into a wall. Dazed, Zsasz looked up to see a figure standing over him, the cold, featureless Oni mask staring down. The Blue Spirit.
"Who the hell are you?" Zsasz snarled, clutching his knife as he struggled to his feet.
Jack didn’t answer. He moved with the speed that had become his signature, drawing one of his broadswords in a flash. Zsasz barely had time to react as the blade cut through the air, slicing the knife from his hand.
"You're just a kid!" Zsasz growled, lunging at Jack with his bare hands, desperate and wild.
But Jack was faster, sidestepping the attack with ease. He brought the hilt of his sword down on Zsasz's head, sending him sprawling to the ground. The serial killer tried to rise, but Jack was already on him, his sword's edge pressed against Zsasz’s throat.
"Why are you doing this?" Zsasz hissed, fear flickering in his eyes for the first time.
Jack's voice was cold, devoid of emotion. "This is for every life you've taken, for every family you've destroyed." With one swift motion, the sword flashed, and Victor Zsasz fell silent, his blood pooling on the ground.
As Jack stood over the lifeless body, he felt no satisfaction, only a grim determination. This was just the beginning.
---
The next target was the Riddler. Edward Nygma prided himself on his intellect, his riddles and puzzles designed to outwit even the Dark Knight. But this time, it was Nygma who found himself outplayed.
It started with a message. A simple note left on his desk, written in a precise, almost childlike hand: "Riddle me this, Riddler. What has no beginning, no end, and cannot be solved?"
Nygma frowned, turning the paper over in his hands. He was alone in his hideout, surrounded by the evidence of his latest schemes—blueprints, notes, and a dozen unanswered riddles meant to ensnare Gotham’s finest. He liked to work in isolation, away from the distractions of the outside world. But now, the silence was unnerving.
"What has no beginning, no end, and cannot be solved..." Nygma muttered, pacing the room. His mind raced through possibilities, but something about the riddle gnawed at him, a creeping sense of unease.
He reached for the phone to call one of his henchmen, but before he could dial, the lights went out. Panic surged through him as he fumbled for a flashlight. The darkness was suffocating, and for the first time, Nygma felt true fear.
Then, out of the shadows, he saw it—a pair of glowing blue eyes, unblinking, staring directly at him. The Blue Spirit emerged from the darkness, his broadsword in hand.
"You!" Nygma gasped, backing away. "How did you find me?"
"The same way I found the answer to your riddle," Jack replied, his voice calm. "It's you, Riddler. You're the one who has no beginning, no end, and cannot be solved. You're a problem that needs to be erased."
Nygma tried to flee, but Jack was too fast. In a blur, he disarmed the villain and knocked him to the ground. The Riddler, once so confident in his own superiority, found himself at the mercy of a boy who moved like a ghost.
"Please!" Nygma begged, a rare desperation in his voice. "I can help you! I can—"
"You’re beyond help," Jack interrupted, raising his sword. The blade came down, and with it, another piece of Gotham's criminal underworld was silenced forever.
---
Jack’s crusade continued. The Penguin was next. The crime lord’s empire of smuggling and corruption had been untouched for too long, and Jack intended to change that.
Oswald Cobblepot, surrounded by his goons, was busy counting the night’s take in his Iceberg Lounge when the Blue Spirit struck. Jack moved through the room like a shadow, taking down Penguin’s men before they even knew what hit them. By the time Penguin realized what was happening, his guards were either unconscious or fleeing in terror.
"Who do you think you are, coming into my place and causing a ruckus?" Penguin snarled, reaching for his umbrella—his weapon of choice.
Jack didn’t respond. He was on the crime lord in an instant, disarming him with a swift kick. The Penguin, not used to being on the losing end, tried to retreat, but Jack was relentless. He grabbed the squawking criminal by the collar, dragging him toward the window overlooking the dark waters of Gotham Harbor.
"You think you can scare me, boy?" Penguin spat, trying to maintain his bravado. "You’re nothing compared to the Bat!"
Jack stared at him, the cold gaze of his mask reflecting Penguin’s fear. "I’m not here to scare you," he said softly. "I’m here to end you."
With that, he flung Penguin through the window. The crime lord screamed as he plummeted toward the icy waters below, his cries silenced as he hit the water with a splash. Jack watched for a moment, ensuring that Cobblepot wouldn’t resurface, then vanished into the night.
---
Jack continued his mission, leaving a trail of defeated villains in his wake. Each one was a step closer to the final goal—the man who had taken everything from him. The Joker.
But Jack knew he had to be patient. The Joker was unlike any of the others—cunning, unpredictable, and utterly insane. To defeat him, Jack would need to be at his best, to plan every move with precision.
So, as he moved through Gotham’s underworld, eliminating its worst offenders, Jack kept his mind focused on the endgame. Each victory brought him closer to the ultimate confrontation. And when the time came, the Blue Spirit would face the Joker, not just as a vigilante, but as the embodiment of vengeance.
For now, Gotham’s criminals would continue to fall, one by one, until there was no one left to stand in his way.
