Hey, guys. Another upload coming up. Just to let you know, this chapter is mostly a breather from an action-filled chapter. You guys may or may not have noticed me going back to update the chapters. Mostly typos and mistakes that I made. Also, I increased Batman's level to be a bit more accurate with my opinion on overall attributes based on a document I made on the characters. I'm not just counting strength, I count skill, speed, defense, etc.

By the way. Near the end of the first scene, there's a warning for readers who don't like when words get too graphic. Other than that, let's get on with the next part of the story, with the first scene set in the morning after the last chapter.

Chapter Five:

Dirty Deals X and X Recovering Knights

Floyd Lawton stepped into his kitchen. Sweat dripped from his face as he puffed for a breath after his usual intensive morning workout, a towel draped over his bare shoulders. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.

To Floyd, nothing felt more refreshing than sipping cold water after his daily morning workout to maintain his physique. As much as he enjoyed daily training, it was essential to his lifestyle as one of the top assassins the world had ever seen. His marksmanship is second to none. Death was inevitable for most if they happened to be on his hit list, having their world fall into darkness with a bullet to the head without prior knowledge of the pending danger. He rarely misses his targets and takes great pride in his infamy.

After swigging the bottle dry of the water, Floyd crushed the bottle in his clutch and tossed it across the kitchen as it cleanly shot into the bin. He swept into the living room of his house. The room wasn't anything grand besides the wall plastered with mounted rifles and various firearms. Other than that, it was good enough for Floyd to call home.

Until he dies, that is.

Floyd heard the doorbell ring from his front door and couldn't restrain a sigh. Someone must either be crazy or ignorant if they were visiting Floyd Lawton, of all people. He went to answer the door. Floyd's mouth slightly parted at the sight of his visitor. The visitor's hideously scarred face, showing the imprints of a black-skulled mask, was the first thing that caught Floyd's attention. It required no critical thinking for Floyd to guess his guest's identity.

"Roman Sionis," Floyd said, slightly furrowing his brows at the crime boss.

Behind Black Mask was a gang of masked men in suits accompanying him; either they were there as Sionis' bodyguards or to help gun him down, Floyd didn't know. A woman with narrow glasses stood beside him, holding a clipboard and pen. She wore a pencil skirt and blazer.

"Floyd Lawton," Black Mask said as he worked a wrinkly smile, letting out a throaty chortle, "Or should I say Deadshot? How you doin'?"

Floyd didn't respond as he calmly studied the group on his porch. There were five men, and he could see several others waiting beside a couple of cars parked on the curb. He kept this in mind in case he needed to kill them if it called to it.

"Relax, I ain't here to start a war. I'm here to discuss some business." Sionis said, hoping to ease the apparent tension. He turned for a sidelong glance at the men behind him, "In fact, the boys can wait outside. How about a one-on-one talk?"

Floyd's eyes returned to Black Mask. He didn't know what the crime boss wanted from him. He could've just called if Sionis was hiring him to kill somebody, or was there something more behind this business that Black Mask spouted?

"Sure," Floyd said, and he stood aside and widened the gap between the door. Sionis wordlessly stepped inside with his secretary in tow. Floyd lingered as he narrowed his eyes at the mob before shutting the door.

Black Mask lazily wandered his gaze around the interior house, letting out a whistle. "Nice place."

"Thanks," Floyd said as he led Sionis and his secretary to the dining table. "Worked hard to earn enough cash to pay for this place."

Black Mask had to laugh at that, "Haha! You paid a lot of blood into this place! You got to love it! It makes me like it even more."

Floyd rolled his eyes. Of course, how could he forget about Black Mask's sadistic lust for death? Floyd could guess the stories spoken by street thugs about Black Mask's rule over Gotham's organized crime were true. Sionis had a knack for torture as entertainment, so he kept a torcher room in his basement specially made for whatever taboo some unlucky idiot committed in Black Mask's eyes.

Whatever happened in that basement, nobody knew. And most would like to keep it that way. Ignorance is bliss, they say. Floyd thought.

The two settled down on the table across from each other. Sionis wasted no time to get to the point. "So, Deadshot. I read your resume about your expertise in marksmanship. You never miss your target, shooting them from anywhere. You'd usually leave your victims' brains splattered on the ground." He said as he squinted his eyes and leaned forward. "I have an offer that you can't refuse."

Floyd couldn't help but perk with interest. So it was an assassination deal, which was odd. His clients usually contacted him while sending whatever needed information about the target. "I'm listening," He said.

Black Mask wordlessly stretched out an open palm to his secretary. Understanding the gesture, she handed him a Gotham Gazette newsprint. Black Mask slammed the paper against the table and slid it over to Floyd's side.

"A couple of days ago, the target was able to sweep through hordes of my men during a robbery I organized." He said. His smirk had long since disappeared as his face gradually shifted from frustration to betraying his downright boiling point. "If it weren't for him, I would've had The Penguin's loot he put up for sale right about now. That includes…THE ULTIMATE PRIZE! I want him dead. I WANT HIS BRAINS BLOWN TO THE GROUND!" Black Mask's shouted with pent-up rage, raised his arm, forming a fist, and brought it down hard against the marble surface.

Despite Sionis' rant, Floyd read the article with interest, his lips gradually tightening into a smirk as his eyes plowed through each word. The prospect of a metahuman dropping Black Mask's mob triggered Floyd's excitement. Whoever this guy was, maybe this was the one who would ultimately put Floyd on his deathbed. Maybe his death is sooner than he thought.

"Your temper, boss," his secretary warned. Her voice carried a way as if his outburst was a regular occurrence.

Floyd refocused his gaze on Black Mask. "How much are you charging for the job?" He asked with a serious tone.

Black Mask's glare morphed into a wicked grin, "How does fifteen million sound?"

"Deal."

"Glad we both got along to an agreement." Black Mask said.

He internally grumbled. That fifteen million was over ten percent of his entire bank. It would all be worth it if he called for the death of the person who thwarted his heist. While Deadshot would take care of the person behind that blur in the bank, Sionis will take all the precautions to plan his next score. His glare tightened as his mind wandered to Batman, who would undoubtedly be a pest along the way.

As Floyd stood up from his chair, Black Mask widened his eyes in realization, almost forgetting a critical detail. "Wait!"

Floyd froze in his movement and turned his head to Black Mask, eyebrow raised.

Black Mask slipped an object across the table, which became trapped in its path under Floyd's fingertips. For a moment, Floyd looked down at the squared paper before suspiciously returning his attention to the crime lord. "What's this?" Floyd asked.

"Your target's identity."

Floyd held the photo between his fingers and brought it to eye level. He had to blink twice. It was the first time he was to assassinate someone so young in his entire career. A feeling began to sink in like quicksand, and Floyd realized it was hesitation.

Why is he hiring me to kill a kid? I can't do that. Floyd thought. He thought of his daughter, who was living with her mother in Star City across the country. He was already a man at the bottom of the barrel most of his life, but what kind of father would he be if he was killing kids for a living while his daughter lived a nice and cozy life in her home?

Floyd looked back to Black Mask across the table, who patiently waited for a response. "Well?" Black Mask goated.

Floyd's gaze shot into Black Mask's unfeeling red orbs, "Sorry, Roman. But killing kids isn't for me. I'm going to have to decline."

Black Mask flinched in surprise at Floyd's change of heart. His astonishment instantly shifted to rage. "Hey!" He snapped to his feet from the chair, "You can't back out of a deal you've already accepted! Especially from me!"

Floyd scoffed and turned around to advance to the entrance, not bothering to give Black Mask an ounce of any argument. Black Mask was shocked at the audacity that Floyd had to ignore him. Anyone else who was stupid enough to do that was worthy of torture; a nice and slow process, to be specific.

"We'll wreck this place, Floyd! We'll burn everything you've ever owned to the ground! Everything! You sure you want that!?"

Floyd paused in his steps. He looked around his house before shrugging. He knew he didn't need to take long to think it over. "I can just build everything back to where I am now, no big deal."

Black Mask chuckled. "And why would you let this opportunity for your death wish to come to a reality pass by?"

And that made Floyd look ahead in contemplation. He hated to admit it, but Black Mask was right on that one. Floyd always held his own life in low regard. Life had always been meaningless to him, and so was everyone else around him. It was why he was always open for assassination jobs and suicide missions.

He read that article about that new metahuman in the bank. The thought of potentially being torn in half by this figure brought a thrill through his veins. He couldn't deny that sense to confront this deadly force and see if this would be the one to kill him. Of course, he would do everything to prevent that outcome, but that was the thrill. He lived to find his death through his survival.

Floyd slowly turned back to the crime lord with an intense gaze. "Fine. You win. If I take this job, I'll bring the target to you alive. Triple the price while you're at it." Without wanting to debate any longer, Floyd spun around to the door and walked toward it. He just wanted this scum, who was Black Mask, to leave his house.

Black Mask remained glued on the chair, and a deep chuckle emanated from his lips. Floyd stopped in his tracks again and turned to the crime lord with an eyebrow raised.

"Hm-hm-hm-hm. If you're going to bring the kid alive, you're only making it worse for the kid. I'll only end up torturing the life out of him as much as possible. His body will go through mutilation far worse than you will ever do to him." Black Mask's lips soon widened to a hideous grin upon his scarred face, "Believe me, I even have some experts under my lead that knows a thing or two about keeping the victim alive while they get rearranged at the most vital parts of the human body."

Black Mask stood up from his chair and advanced toward Floyd in the living room, his arms behind his back. He stopped in front of him, the two killers intently staring down at one another. "If you bring the brat to me dead, that's a fifteen million dollar reward. But if you bring him alive, I'll give you forty-five million, torture for the kid as a bonus for me. Either way, I win."

Black Mask's grin dropped in a straight line and continued passed him for the exit. His secretary followed in tow, scribbling notes on the paper on her clipboard. Floyd kept his eye on the scarred man as he left, betraying no emotion through his features.

As Black Mask emerged from the entrance, he saw his men; they had all waited idly since the visit. Black Mask glanced at his secretary with a scowl as they both made their way to their car. Black Mask entered the vehicle while his secretary entered the front passenger seat. The driver started the engine and drove away with the other vehicles in tow.

"Check through every bit of information about Floyd Lawton once we get back to my base. I need to know why he refused my offer in the first place because he has to kill some kid." Black Mask said as his scowl intensified, staring straight ahead, "Maybe he could use some motivation to commit to the kill. I love good torture, but I need a balance in my finances."

Familiarity ruptured within Killua's mind as he took his surroundings. He's been to this town before. Had he somehow returned to his world? Did everything that happened since his run-in with Illumi all a nightmare that felt like it spanned for nearly a month?

While sprinting down a paved path, Killua suddenly craned his neck and was startled to discover Alluka grasping his hand, trying to keep up the pace to match his speed. In ecstasy, he wanted to shout her name. He made every effort to come to a stop, turn around, and embrace her. However, Killua's motions were out of his control. He tried to communicate but could only manage a few grunts as he raced.

Something was wrong. Observing Alluka's expression, it was clear she was spooked. Something was forcing them to flee, and Killua shared that sentiment.

He seemed to be on autopilot, going through the motions of what was supposed to happen. What was going on?

The familiar figure of Illumi appeared in Killua's path, making him let out a sharp gasp. Frantically, Killua forcefully ceased his movements, his sneakers scrapping against the ground to a halt. He turned to Alluka, making sure he was shielding her from Illumi.

Illumi observed them through his hollowed gaze, "You've been able to hide long enough, Kil. But not anymore, now that I've got you on my radar."

Killua ground his teeth together at the sight of his brother. He knew that behind those voided eyes, Illumi was taunting him through those hollowed pits. That caused Killua's temper to flare up. He kept ahold of his sister's arm as he turned to a different route. Still, in an instant, Illumi rushed with his superior speed into his path as a barricade.

Having no choice, Killua turned Alluka and hoisted her into a princess-style carry. He forced electrical energy to surge through his body, and his hair sprung upwards into gravity-defying spikes. "Godspeed - Speed of Lightning!" Killua shouted.

In a flash that one could blink, Killua ran in the opposite direction of Illumi, Alluka clinging her arms around his neck for dear life. Killua craned his neck as he worked his legs; he grinned as he seemingly left Illumi in the dust with Speed of Lighting. He looked forward and widened his eyes as a crowd appeared in his way and stopped.

Needlemen, lots of them; all were blocking his path from every corner. They limped toward him and Alluka like a mob of mindless zombies. He turned around only for his heart to sink at the sight of Illumi already caught up to them. He briefly thought about fighting Illumi right here and there, but then he turned to his horrified sister in his arms.

He was in no condition to fight with Alluka on his side; she had no training in combat whatsoever. Too risky for her safety. If he were to hold off Illumi for a little while, he could tell Alluka to find a plane, a boat, or anything to travel to one of the safest places to escape. Whale Island.

Illumi's eyes widened ghastly, "Did you think I would come unprepared? I have the entire neighboring area under my control! There's no escape." Illumii said. His lips curled into a ghostly grin, "Judging from your aura, Kil, you don't seem to have progressed much since we last met, if at all."

An ominous chuckle rang from Illumi's lips as his slender hand moved up to tuck away a strand of hair, "How disappointing." He taunted. His slithery voice carried a chilling echo.

Killua continued to snap his eyes from each side in a frantic rhythm. He had to escape. Even if he had Godspeed on his side, Killua doubted a fight against Illumi would go in his favor. Now that Killua thought of it, he had never, in his entire life knowing him, seen Illumi go all out in a fight. What kind of horrifying ability did Illumi possess in his arsenal for combat?

The only way to combat Illumi, for now, was through Nanika. Killua opened his mouth to speak, but Illumi cut him off. "Don't bother wishing me away." Illumi said as he held out a fist full of pins at the ready to aim at the cowering girl, "I won't hesitate to kill it before you can even finish stating your wish. Now hand me Nanika."

Killua widened his rage-filled eyes towards his brother, "Why you!" He'd show his brother how much he had improved since he left the Zoldyck household. And he will show Illumi what will happen after threatening Alluka to his face.

Killua set Alluka to her feet. His Ren exploded around his form as he faced Illumi, making Alluka jump back a bit. He was sick of constantly watching his back in fear of Illumi watching them from a hidden standpoint, calculating a plan to take him and Alluka back to Kukuroo mountain. But now it was time to put this to an end. Killua loved his brother and did, but he won't let him take Alluka away and use Nanika as a slave.

"Onii-chan!" Alluka cried out with worry.

Before he could think to calculate an attack, Killua felt two soft hands grasp his arm. He turned, and his eyes widened with worry at the sight of tears leaking from Nanika's empty eyes. For a face that was usually devoid of emotion besides the eerie smile, Nanika's expression gifted Killua more weight and love than Illumi ever could toward him.

"Killua," Nanika said, her voice shrill and nearly expressionless. "Just know, I loved all our times with you, Killua. You made me and Alluka feel safe." Her bottomless eyes leaked more tears, giving Killua a heartfelt smile, her hair beginning to shift. "We love you, Killua!"

"And now," Nanika's arms shot forward, and a vortex of dark aura suddenly swirled around her like a twister. "I send you away!"

Unknown to the pair, Illumi's eyes widened in surprise. "What?!" He shouted.

A blinding flash met Killua's sight, and gradually the blindness faded into darkness.

…

With a sharp gasp, Killua's eyelids shot open, jumping with a start as he sat against a wall. Sweat poured down his face before he wiped it off with the blue sleeve of his shirt. His heart pounded from those events replayed that changed his life in the coming weeks that passed. He did a quick scan of his surroundings and sighed dejectedly.

That memory had always returned when he took the time to sleep. How much he hated that memory. It was why he pushed himself to slumber in the depths of his mind for five days at most throughout his time in this world. He still remembered every word traded and every action he took to escape Illumi and his mindless slaves as they were hunted. It certainly changed his life from that point.

Now that he thought of it, Nanika really had opened a hole in reality to cross dimensions and sent him here. Killua thought it was all bogus science fiction after he sometimes browsed through Milluki's fantasy manga and anime in his room, but only to find himself in a different reality was a lot to swallow. Nanika's power was much more significant than Killua could comprehend.

But the question was: Had Nanika intended to send him to this specific place? Was this a mistake if Nanika had wanted to send him far enough to avoid Illumi's influence? He knew so much about Nanika's power and how it worked, but only so much.

Last night's events suddenly came flooding in. After the fight, the first thing that came to mind was to backtrack his way to this rundown warehouse he spotted while being chased. Yesterday's events left him mentally drained, not the conflict or the chase, but everything that came prior. Aside from his ears needing to heal now that they're partly numb to hearing.

Now he couldn't go out in public anymore now that the stupid Batman had exposed him to the public. It ruined his chances of studying through countless books in the library and the chances to be subtle and move behind the shadows while his true nature remained hidden from this world. He could've gone through this quietly while life went on. But nope, Batman had to barge into his business and expose him to this city to see if he was a threat to relieve his evident paranoia.

I hope he got what he wanted. Killua thought bitterly.

Then again, this never would've happened if he had just refrained from beating up those thugs weeks ago. But what was he supposed to do? Let them continue their harassment without facing the consequences? Yeah right. Those thugs got what they deserved for annoying him.

But Killua couldn't help but grasp some respect for Batman. The fact that Batman could figure him out based on a couple of chops, punches, and kicks he delivered to down those thugs and even finding him in his makeshift home was awe-inspiring. That level of detective work rivaled and even surpassed some of the most perceiving hunters.

Now that he thought of it, Killua turned his head and squinted at the blue bag beside him. Something was wrong. That feeling lingered even after his encounter with Batman and his sidekicks. He didn't like it one bit. His gaze continuously stuck to the bag as he contemplated.

Slowly, Killua inched his hand over the bag; he paused briefly as his hand hovered over it, then opened it. Killua dubiously darkened his eyes as his blue irises immediately landed on the book the boy back at the library had given him. Something about that short-lived meeting didn't digest well with Killua; he just couldn't shake it off and move on. He recalled that feeling pulsing again when he got a close glimpse at the boy in that domino mask right before launching him into the air.

He opened the book and flipped through the pages front and back. He then hung the book over his head, and a small object fell from the confines of the pages. Killua's eyes immediately followed it; he released the book from his hand and caught the item in a blur. He held the object close to his eye before it widened at its shape.

"A bat," Killua muttered. There was a red light that blinked continuously from the object's center. His pupils gradually shrunk as realization started kicking as his mind finally connected the pieces, "That boy in red… he was that kid I bumped into at the library. This thing is some sort of tracker. They've played me!"

Killua angrily crushed the metallic object between his fingers. "Tch. I've had enough of this." He hissed out.

So that's how they found me. This group I've faced; they're not amateurs. This Batman must've endured years of training to master multiple fighting forms. He found out about me just based on one fight I had and was able to create a strategy against me without knowing anything about me. He also somehow has the resources to use advanced devices against me. Killua thought. His eyes hovered up to gaze through an open window, the sunlight bleeding through the open hole.

What kind of drive and resolve would cause a man to push himself to that level? Killua thought.

Killua unconsciously traced his fingers through the dried trail down the side of his face. He looked around the fusty-smelling, dusted old room. He had to move. If the device he destroyed were a tracking device, this place would be its last known location. He closed the book and tucked it in the bag.

It was annoying, but he'd have to remain out of sight if there was still heat on him—a piece of cake. Now to find the next big hiding spot, it would have to be away from populated areas, a building preferably distant from the city's urban places.

Either way, it shouldn't be too long to find one; this city was abundant in abandoned and rundown buildings, where crimes were most common, but that shouldn't be a hindrance. Killua stood up and hoisted the bag over his shoulders before leaving.

Bruce tightened his lips as Alfred pressed an icepack against his ribs. His whole chest was bare, apart from the bandages wrapped around his ribcage. The power of Killua's kick left a bruise through his kevlar protection armor of the bat-suit, which could stop bullets from penetrating. "You know, Sir. Sometimes, I fear the day will come when your body will be broken in half." Alfred said.

Bruce nearly winced as pain spiked in his ribs. "All part of the day's work."

"Well, in your case, Master Bruce, it's the night's work."

Bruce snorted. He worked his body off the table, and his feet touched the floor. Discomfort emanated from his ribs as he stood, but he could endure the minor annoyance. It was past noon; Bruce and everyone returned to the cave hours before in the morning. Alfred was both marveled and concerned at the state of the family.

Bruce glanced at Dick, who sat on the clinic table beside him, carefully rotating his now relocated arm; his shoulder wrapped in bandages. Bruce faced Alfred, "I'm going to check the blood sample I had Tim scanning; see if he found anything worth noting. Maybe you should tend to Dick's arm while I head off."

Alfred bowed as he watched Bruce leave the medical room to the bat-computer. Alfred walked toward Dick, watching closely at the movements of his arm. "Your shoulder's articulations appear to look fine, Master Grayson."

Dick glanced at the butler before frowning with discomfort at his arm. "Maybe so, but it still sores like I just slept on the wrong side on a rocky surface." He said.

"Shall I prepare you a sling for your arm?"

"Yes, please."

"Very well," Alfred said. He turned away and advanced to the cabinets where they stored the first aid equipment. He didn't take long before he returned with a fabricated sling. Dick smiled gratefully and leaned his injured shoulder for the butler to treat.

"I know I've said this before, but I still don't know where we'd be without you, Alfred," Dick said as Alfred gently took hold of his arm before aligning it with the cloth, encasing it comfortably in its fabric confines.

Alfred's lips worked a slight grin, "And as usual, the thought alone still gives me shudders." He then began to loop the strap around Dick's neck, ensuring the strap's cushion fit nicely against the neck.

"Thanks, Alfred," Dick said as he shifted his body, satisfied that his shoulder's irritation had calmed now that his arm was securely wrapped his arm in the sling.

Alfred bowed gracefully, "It is my pleasure, Master Grayson."

Dick's smile dropped, setback settling in. "Still sucks that I'll have to take two weeks off until I'm back in action."

"Then who will watch Bludhaven while you're out?" A voice called in teasingly. Dick and Alfred turned to the door entrance to find Barbara stepping in, holding an ice pack. She was out of her batsuit, donning a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top. Her face was slightly charred, with band-aids clung around her facials.

Dick's lips curled up at the sight of his girl, "Good question." Even though her skin and hair appeared disheveled

Barbara stopped beside him and applied the ice pack against his shoulder, causing him to wince behind his grin. Soon, his shoulder became dull against the frozen contents in the ice pack, and Dick relaxed his expression. Dick hung his head and sighed, his light-hearted demeanor diminishing.

"That kid was strong, though. When he grabbed my wrist before he tossed me," Dick unconsciously reached his uninjured arm to cradle his injured one's wrist, "It felt like Blockbuster was trying to crush my arm with everything he's got." He said.

Melancholy settled in as his mind traveled to the events last night. Dick mentally whacked himself at losing control when he saw that boy shock Barbara into unconsciousness. He hadn't admitted to Barbara about it, and it killed him. What would her reaction be if she were to find out she was partly why he lost his cool and charged the kid head-on? Adding more salt to the wound, his shoulder was dislocated.

"Tell me about it," Barbara said. She frowned with worry as she detected her boyfriend's demeanor. She parted her mouth to speak, but suddenly, a chime rang in a rhythmic tune throughout the cave, alarming everyone in the clinic.

Alfred's eyes gazed up at the ceiling with intrigue. "Oh, my. It appears we have ourselves a visitor." He muttered. He turned to the pair, "Well, you two seem to have everything taken care of; I'll be back shortly." Alfred said before he left in an elegant stride.

After Alfred disappeared through the doorway, Dick turned to his girlfriend as he stood up. He offered her a sly grin as he began to lean forward toward her, "Now that we're alone… He said suggestively, his face inching closer to hers.

As Dick's lips were about to connect with hers, his movements ceased as Barbara's palms pressed against his chest. Dick blinked at Barbara, who grinned amusedly, her green eyes half-lidded. "Easy, lover boy," Barbara said with a soft giggle. "As much as I want to, I don't think Bruce would appreciate it if something like this were to happen in the Batcave of all places."

Her smile faltered, "Besides, I'm worried about you. I noticed how you looked earlier." Her voice was etched with concern.

Dick gazed blankly at Barbara. "You got me," He responded quietly.

"Would you like to tell me about it? I'm here, you know." Her hand reached for his good hand, and her fingers lightly traced his backhand.

"How about another time? There's a lot I want to get off my chest, but I think we need to see what Tim's found, first and foremost."

Barbara smiled softly, and she spoke to lift his spirit. "How about we talk about it afterward? And then, we can take ourselves out somewhere later down the line? To make up for lost time. How does that sound?"

Dick smiled immediately, "Actually, that sounds even better." There was silence between the two for a moment before Barbara ushered herself to her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Warmth immediately swelled in his chest from the gesture, and his grin brightened. He didn't know how a small gesture like a kiss could brighten his day, but it did.

"Now, c'mon," Barbara said, her expression turning serious. "Let's go check up on Bruce and Tim. Something tells me we gotta hear what they're about to find."

Dick nodded determinedly. "Right."

And the two went on a silent path to the Bat-Computer, where they noticed Bruce intently focused on the large, blue-interfaced screen. Tim was squinting through the microscope on the desk adjacent to the computer. Bruce immediately noticed the two and motioned with his head to join in.

Dick glanced at the screen before turning to Bruce. "You guys find anything?"

"Yes," Tim responded. He detracted his gaze from the scope, looking slightly disheveled from the midair flight he experienced during the fight. "I found something odd about the blood. Bruce has been waiting for you two to come by for me to share it."

Barbara quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really?" She said with intrigue.

"So what do you got?" Dick asked.

Tim's eyes shifted profoundly, and he spoke, his voice matching his expression. "Okay, you won't believe this. I discovered evidence of a history having exposure to many neurotoxic compounds in the blood." He paused for a bit and gauged the others' reactions. He saw that they were following, taking his words attentively. He gave them a pointed look for emphasis and continued, "And by many, I mean hundreds, possibly over a thousand neurotoxins."

Barbara's eyes widened with realization, "So he's been constantly poisoned throughout his life? Why is that?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes, choosing not to respond. Dick also remained wordless as he locked his eyes on the pending blood test results.

Tim smiled at Barbara, "We're getting to that, and I already have some theories." He said as if he had already accomplished multiple tasks. His smile dropped into a flatline, "The cells in his blood appear to be more developed, like they've evolved."

"Since someone injected his blood with toxins, drugs, and laxatives, it's like the blood cells underwent a training regimen. The metahuman somehow developed a way to strengthen his white blood cells, and the plasma cells, in turn, released antibodies strong enough to neutralize the substance. It makes him practically resistant to multiple toxins, no matter how deadly they are."

"And you say that like it was a slow process," Barbara muttered in disbelief.

"Maybe so, but as I said, his blood seemed like it was put through training. It's amazing that his body was never negatively affected because of it, and instead, he gained an amazing gift. That he survived this as someone his age is a miracle." Tim stated.

Dick tilted slightly toward Bruce. "Sounds like someone I know," He whispered jokingly.

"No," Bruce spoke for the first time, "My immunity developed over time because I had to power through attacks from the likes of Joker, Ivy, and Crane. This was done by design." He said, narrowing his eyes. He started to muse over the conversation he had shared with the boy the night before. Killua. That was his name.

"The boy's name is Killua. That was the name he told me when we were talking." Bruce said, tracing his gaze to the screen.

"Killua? As in 'Kill-You-All'?" Timothy asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "Just who names their kid to have 'kill' in his name?"

"That's what I thought as well," Bruce replied matter-of-factly.

"Was there anything else worth noting what he said?" Barbara asked.

"We said a few things, but he wasn't willing to talk much about himself. One thing that caught my interest is that he mentioned a place called Kukoroo Mountain," Bruce said. He walked to the keyboard and searched for the name of interest on the database map. "But the thing is, there's not a place on Earth that has that name."

A beep howled out from the blood test results, garnering everyone's attention. They turned to the smaller, rectangular screen. After scanning thoroughly with the results, even Bruce couldn't believe what his eyes were reading.

"This…this has to be a mistake," Tim stated, almost stuttering. The screen displayed numeral charts on the screen, such as the owner of the blood's age, blood type, health condition, heritage, genetics, and health condition. But what caught everyone off guard was not what he was, but his nature.

"So he's from another earth, after all. He's one hundred percent human, but there's no evidence that Killua is genetically enhanced or modified," Bruce voiced as he crossed his arms. Why was that? Did that mean that wherever he was from, people were naturally superhumans, or was it something else entirely? This case gradually grew interesting the more he dug into it.

Barbara was excited at the prospect of a human with metahuman abilities being natural to his biology. Most metahumans gain unnatural abilities through freak accidents, altering their physiology in the long run, sometimes negatively. She'd have to remember to create a new profile about this Killua on her Oracle Files and update it occasionally as she learned about him.

She smiled. In fact, she was going to do that right now. She sat on the computer and switched accounts on the Batcomputer to her Oracle access codes. As a hacker, thanks to her Wayne-Tech equipment, she could crack through the thickest security access' to every high-profile site worldwide. She was the entire net. She wouldn't dare miss the opportunity to create a file about Killua.

"Sir. Pardon me for intruding, but you have a guest." Alfred's voice called out from behind.

Curiosity took over Bruce at his words. Who would visit him at a time when he was at work? Even Alfred wouldn't allow visitors in when he was busy. He turned around and was in for a surprise at the woman walking just behind his butler.

"Diana?" He said almost incredulously. The last time he heard from her, she was busy completing some mission off-planet with the League. So she was back. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant surprise that she would visit him so soon after weeks away from Earth.

Diana's eyes met Bruce's. "Hello, Bruce." She said with a smile. Her eyes swayed toward the three others present. She internally took note of the state that they were in. "And greetings to you all, as well." Her eyes landed on Tim, "Ah. And the new ward. Timothy Drake, is it?"

It took every bit of willpower for Tim to not freeze at the unexpected arrival of Wonder Woman. THE Wonder Woman. "A-actually, e-everybody here just calls me Tim." He said. Even with Wonder Woman not wearing her trademark armor, she emitted an immense presence around her in a simple trenchcoat dress she currently wore.

Tim felt a nudge from Dick. "Relax, you'll get used to it. I was in your shoes once when I met Superman." Dick whispered with a hint of amusement as he lazily watched Alfred quietly walk away. Probably to do more chores.

"Diana," Bruce started in a chastising tone. "You know I don't like metas coming into Gotham."

Diana pointed her gaze at him, shooting up an eyebrow. "When have I declared that I would patrol your streets, Bruce? Besides, I'm on vacation."

"Hmph. Gotham is far from the ideal place for a vacation." Bruce said before mustering a smirk. "Admit it, you came to see me."

Bruce eyed the results on the screen once more. And all of a sudden, an idea materialized in his head, causing him to pause to a still. Slowly, he turned to gaze at Diana, causing her expression to shift to curiosity. He knew he had stated that he wouldn't tolerate metas working alongside him in Gotham. But he was out of ideas when it came to dealing with Killua. He simply couldn't figure out any virtual weakness Killua had. Tranquilizing him was out of the question.

Last night's fight made it clear that Killua had held back against him, Barbara, Dick, and Tim. It was apparent that there were many things he was hiding. Bruce saw Killua's movements fully displayed when he rushed Tim, which undoubtedly exceeded his estimated running speed. It definitely had something to do with the air shifting around him. There must be some unseen power within him. But what was it?

If there were no weaknesses known, then the only way to deal with him was with a straightforward route. Overpower him. Diana was the only person in the room who could handle Killua in a physical confrontation. He hated to back out of his usual rules, but he simply had no other choice.

Diana began to feel awkward as Bruce's calculating gaze hadn't dwindled. A light blush painted her cheeks at the attention Bruce was giving her. Even Dick, Barbara, and Tim fell into confusion at Bruce's apparent plot process.

Bruce's face morphed into seriousness, his jaw tightening. "Diana. I hate saying this, but you came at a perfect time."

"What's going on?" She asked.

"There's a lot to explain, Diana. I need your help."

Finished! Finally. Hope you enjoyed every bit of the chapter, being dialogue heavy that it was.

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