"Let me guess." Stray said, crossing his arms over his chest irritably. "You've been tracking this case for a few years now and you were close to cracking it when a more urgent issue came to light and the disappearances stopped. Well, reduced. But now more and more kids are disappearing and you've decided to take the case back up which has led you to this building." He said.
"For the most part." Robin grudgingly admitted.
"So what part did I get wrong?" Stray asked, slight amusement in his posture. Robin didn't answer him. Instead he busied himself with detaching a vent hatch to slip into the building.
"Go home, Stray. Leave this to me." Robin said, gently placing the hatch on the floor and looking over his shoulder at Stray.
"Can't, shan't, won't; now move over." Stray said, walking over to the vent.
"No. I have more experience and training. You'll just get in my way." Robin snapped.
"I've been trying to find out who killed those kids for just as long as you. I'm coming too." Stray hissed, dropping through the vent almost silently. "Now hurry up." He whispered, his voice echoing off the metal sides of the vent. Robin rolled his eyes under his mask and dropped down the vent as well.
"Shh," Stray stepped along a walkway, crouching down and watching the floor below them. "Down there." He mouthed at Robin.
"What the hell..." Robin muttered, crouching alongside Stray, watching two small figures in an arena-like set up.
"It's the kids that were taken. They're...fighting each other." Stray said quietly.
"That's barbaric. That's.." Robin trailed off, looking caught between vomiting and punching the wall as a child below them stuck a jagged knife into the stomach of the other.
"It's looks like a colosseum. Winner keeps their life; at least until the next match." Stray hissed.
"Zsasz. Has to be." Robin muttered to himself.
"Makes sense." Stray agreed.
A cold blunt object was pressed to the back of Robin's head. He glanced to the side and saw Stray tense up beside him.
"Now who do we have here?" A mocking voice asked.
"Well here's Robin, and it looks like he's with Catwoman's kid." A second voice replied.
"That gives me an idea." The first man mused. "Go tell Zsasz we've got the fight of the year up here."
The third man ran down the walkway out of sight.
"Move." He ordered, pressing the barrel of the gun further against Robin's head.
They were marched down the walkway quickly, occasionally being pushed sharply or the gun being pressed between their shoulder blades to make them walk faster.
"Don't be scared." Stray whispered mostly to himself.
"I'm not." Robin said, watching the man behind him scornfully.
"Shut up and move it." The second man said, pushing Robin's shoulder again.
"Touch me again and I'll break your arm." Robin snapped.
"Yeah, go on smartass." The man sneered.
Robin made to beat the man when they were pushed into the arena. A roar from the crowd drew their attention to the stands. It sickened them both to see the look of excitement and joy on their faces as they made bets and cheered at the thought of the two of them fighting each other for their lives.
"Now, the rules are simple," A tall man said, walking towards them. "The winner of this match moves on to the final round. The winner of that round gains their freedom. But the final round is fought against me." He had a small knife in his hand which hung leisurely at his side.
Stray's eyes flickered to Robin and he took a step back.
"I forfeit the round." He declared, holding his hands level with his head.
"Forfeit the round and you forfeit your life." One of the henchmen said, walking into the light opposite them. He was pointing a gun at Stray's chest. Stray didn't move.
The gun went off.
A small hole ripped through the material covering Stray's chest.
A thin trickle of blood dripped down from the wound.
Stray met Robin's eye. He took a last shaky breath.
He began to fall, hitting the ground heavily.
Robin was deathly silent for a few second, looking at Stray's body.
"You're dead, you sick bastard!" Robin shouted, turning back to Zsasz. He reached over and took a katana off a weapons rack, gripping it in his gloved hands sturdily.
"Shut up and fight, corpse."