Legacy

Court of Owls Pt. 2

24 Hours Before You Die...

You reved up the engine on your bike as you rode it down the train tracks. You hit the gas even more as you kept the helicopter in your sights. You were honestly pissed at the people in the helicopter for a few reasons.

First, human trafficking. Beside the three men in that craft, there were about five girls bound and gagged in there.

Second, they tried to throw you into the harbor when you tried to stop them earlier at the docks. No one throws Batman.

You watched the helicopter lowered toward the tracks, to make the trade off in motion, you sped up and ended up right beside it before you slammed your fist through the window and grabbed the man closest to it.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him half way through the window while the other man began to panic. The pilot, didn't even budge.

Trafficker: He got Rolf! What are you doing, man? Get the hell away from him! Turn!

Pilot: Shut up! The Bat wants to play chicken, let's play chicken.

You looked ahead to see another train heading right towards you. You kept your hold on the man before you had, a very stupid, idea. You pushed the man back into the helicopter and sped up.

You popped a wheelie and gained even more speed before you lifted the bike up and landed in the roof of the train. You then turned it around so that you were facing the helicopter.

Pilot: He wouldn't.

You smiled as you reved up the enginge again and sped up toward the helicopter.

Rolf: Turn! TURN!

Pilot: I can't! The damn alley's too narrow!

As you sped toward the helicopter, your communication beeped.

Alfred: Sir? Commissioner Gordon has arrived at the morgue.

Y/N: Noted, Alfred.

Alfred: Shall I assume you won't be back for the autopsy? I can power down the...

Y/N: I'll be there.

Alfred: But, Sir. I have you all the way over on...

Y/N: Relax. This'll only take a moment.

You jumped off the bike and braced your arm as you slammed through the front window of the helicopter.
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You stood in the Batcave and looked at the holographic monitors around you. Even though you weren't in the GCPD mourge, you could see everything like it was there thanks to the new contacts you had. You could even see a holographic Jim Gordon there.

Jim: So what we have is a genuine mystery man.

Y/N: No name, paid in cash, no ping on his DNA.

Jim: No. At least he made for a good dartboard for someone.

You looked at the body and spotted something that caught your eye. Right near the ribs.

Y/N: Here. There's extensive scar tissue around the ribs and abdomen...calcification at his brow, side of his skull.

Jim: Huh. "Pulgilist's Beauty Marks". You think John Doe was a fighter in his glory days?

Y/N: Seems like it. He has more callous material around his palms and wrists than his knucles. Defensive scarring. I have something similar.

Jim: A trainer?

Y/N: Perhaps. There are scars along his forearms. Common injuries from swordplay.