Chapter 59: Chapter 59: Something troublesome has appeared
Chapter 59: Something troublesome has appeared
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Finally, it was Damian whom Dean found. The boy was huddled in the corner, conserving what little strength he had left, making sure that he wouldn't become a liability—a hostage to be used against his partner.
Dean was stunned when his eyes fell upon Damian. He had never seen him in such a state. His cloak, crafted from specialized materials designed for battle, had been reduced to little more than tattered rags. His eyes, swollen and bloodshot, darted around frantically, as if he were seeing things that weren't really there.
Damian, however, immediately put up his usual front, trying to mask the fragile state he was in. "Don't look at my clothes," he said with feigned nonchalance. "I did this on purpose. It was a distraction—to lure them in so I could take a hostage and find a way out."
Dean wasn't fooled. He could see through Damian's bravado with ease, but he chose not to call him out on it. He knew his partner's mental state was fragile, so instead of challenging the act, he silently reached into his inventory and pulled out food, water, and medical supplies, all prepared in advance.
After carefully inspecting Damian's condition, Dean was surprised to find no serious injuries. "Didn't they do anything to you?" he asked, frowning.
Damian shook his head. He signaled that he had been knocked unconscious in the Northern Pure Land and had woken up inside a maze, stripped of all his equipment.
"They told me the truth about Gotham," Damian muttered, his voice tense. "That Gotham has always been under their control. Falcone, Batman… they're nothing but pawns to them."
His hands clenched as he reached for Dean's collar, his grip tightening as he pointed to the side. His voice was urgent, filled with something dangerously close to desperation. "Look—"
Dean followed Damian's gaze and saw a massive city model of Gotham placed in the center of the room. It was incredibly detailed—almost eerily so.
He could see Wayne Manor, the Batcave, Jim Gordon's home—all mapped out meticulously. The Court of Owls had been operating from the shadows for so long that their influence ran deeper than anyone had imagined.
They weren't lying.
Their control over Gotham wasn't just real—it was absolute.
But that wasn't all. The Court had shown Damian something else. Images—photographs depicting Wayne family deaths throughout history. A picture of a young Bruce Wayne locked in a cold, empty room, looking helpless.
If the Court hadn't let him go back then, Dean realized grimly, Batman would have never existed.
Dean could see doubt creeping into Damian's eyes.
If Batman himself had once been at their mercy, how could he possibly defeat them?
Dean refused to let those thoughts take root.
He climbed onto the model city, his boots crushing the delicate structures beneath him. Without hesitation, he kicked one of the miniature buildings apart, sending its pieces scattering across the table.
Then another. And another.
Crash. Crack.
Half of the Gotham model was in ruins before Dean even looked back at Damian.
"Do you know why I did this?" Dean asked. He gestured to the destruction he had caused. "Because these buildings? They don't exist anymore. They collapsed in the earthquake years ago, and the new ones that replaced them are even more beautiful, stronger than before."
His voice was steady, firm, unshakable.
"Maybe the Court of Owls controlled Gotham in the past. Maybe they shaped its history. But they can't stop Gotham from changing."
Damian blinked, watching as Dean pointed a finger toward the Wayne Manor replica.
"They are relics of a dead era," Dean declared. "Their only choice is to follow in the footsteps of Gotham's true pioneers, and the one who leads this city forward has always been a Wayne."
Damian stilled, his expression shifting. The uncertainty in his gaze faded, replaced by something stronger—conviction.
Because Dean was right. His name was Wayne.
And Wayne's didn't bow to ghosts of the past.
Taking a deep breath, Damian focused. He shook off the weight of the Court's psychological tricks.
"The Court of Owls announced that they'll kill Batman in two days." His voice was clear now, steady. "We need to find a way to protect him."
Dean nodded but handed Damian a ration bar first. "Eat. Regain your strength."
There was no rushing into battle on an empty stomach.
Dean had already seen what they were up against. He tossed two batons to Damian. "I managed to freeze a bunch of Talons earlier. They're assassins that the Court has secretly trained for centuries. They're fast, they heal almost instantly, and they should be thawing out right about now."
Damian tore through his meal, wiping the crumbs from his mouth as he stood. "I'm ready. Where to next?"
Dean walked forward confidently, his path clear. "Follow me."
But Damian hesitated.
"Are you sure you know where you're going?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "This maze is… strange. No matter where I went, I always ended up back at the start."
Dean simply smirked, his expression unreadable. "That's exactly where I want to go."
With no choice but to trust him, Damian followed.
They walked through two rooms. And, just as Damian had warned, they ended up right back at the starting point—the same enormous owl statue, standing tall and imposing, its beak dripping clear water into a small canal at its base. The slow trickle of water echoed in the silent maze.
Dean grinned, placing a hand on the owl's marble base.
"Ask the canal how clear it is, so that there is a source of living water."
Damian peered over Dean's shoulder, looking at the map Dean had just pulled out.
His brow furrowed in confusion.
"That's not a map of the maze."
Dean nodded, flipping the parchment so Damian could see better. "That's because it's not a maze map."
It was a map of Gotham's underground rivers.
Right beneath the owl fountain was an underground waterway.
The Court of Owls had spent centuries perfecting this place. No matter how skilled he and Damian were, they couldn't outplay the Court in their own game.
So Dean had never planned to.
Damian tapped the base of the fountain, his eyes lighting up with realization. "White marble… This room's foundation is made of white marble! It's weaker than the other sections!"
Dean smirked and tossed Damian two directional explosives. "Find the weakest spot. Plant them. I'll handle our pursuers."
Damian set to work immediately.
And just as Dean turned around—
Glowing red eyes flickered in the darkness.
One pair. Then two. Then an entire wall of them.
The claws snapped his fingers, and rows of red eyes lit up behind him. One of the creatures lunged forward at an incredible speed, slamming Dean to the ground with brutal force.
A thick, viscous liquid dripped onto Dean's face from the creature's gaping maw, its rancid breath filling his nostrils. Reacting instantly, he drove Hoshikudaki into its mouth, pinning it to the ground just in time to stop it from tearing off half of his shoulder.
As he struggled beneath the creature, he gritted his teeth and said, "I knew you wouldn't collect the corpses of the Trench for no reason!"
The Court of Owls had long possessed a metal infused with the Dionysium factor, a substance capable of resurrecting the dead. Using this, they had gathered numerous Trench corpses and reanimated them, but these revived beings were far more formidable than before. Their strength and speed had increased significantly, and, most troubling of all, they had gained the ability to heal themselves.
Perched high above, a group of figures wearing owl masks observed the scene from the surrounding walls. Their gazes were filled with disdain as they pointed at Dean, who was still pinned beneath the Trench warrior. Their words dripped with arrogance, their voices filled with the superiority that only those born into power could wield so effortlessly.
"It's this outsider. Kill him and take his scalp—I will keep it as part of my collection," one of them sneered.
"No, no, no," another interrupted, shaking his head. "Haven't you noticed? Grenades, food, even that magic map—these things appeared in his hands out of thin air. We cannot kill him yet. Not until we extract all of his secrets."
Some among them saw value in Dean and sought to unearth his mysteries, while others viewed him as nothing more than a trophy, a prize to be displayed like a mounted elk's antlers.
Dean, however, was not about to give in. Still struggling against the weight of the Trench warrior, he gritted his teeth and called out to Damian, his voice strained but sharp. "You haven't set it up yet?"
"It's done!" Damian responded, his voice tense. "But… we can't escape!" His eyes darted to the countless crimson eyes staring at them from the darkness. The sheer number of reanimated Trench warriors surrounding them was enough to make him feel a pang of despair. This wasn't just an ambush—it was a declaration that there was no way out. The waterway was completely sealed off.
The members of the Court of Owls watched with amusement, believing that the duo was doomed. To them, escape was impossible.
Suddenly, Dean slammed his forehead against his opponent's chin in a powerful headbutt. Using the brief moment of disorientation, he drove Hoshikudaki deeper into the creature's mouth and pinned it to the ground, keeping its razor-sharp teeth away from his shoulder. "Who said we were trying to escape, idiot?" he snapped. "Blow it up! Blow it up now! Don't forget—we're a three-person team!"
The moment Dean's words registered, Damian's eyes widened in realization. He had been so preoccupied with the overwhelming odds that he had forgotten the final part of their plan. Without a second thought, he triggered the explosives.
A deafening explosion rocked the chamber, blasting open a massive hole in the floor. From the depths of the underground river system, a small but radiant blue figure emerged.
"Ma—Na—!"
Manaphy arrived in a torrent of surging water, drawing from the underground river and flooding the labyrinth with a force beyond anything the Court of Owls had anticipated. The masked nobles, realizing the imminent danger, scrambled toward the upper levels in a desperate attempt to escape, but years of indulgence in excess had left their bodies weak. They were no match for the relentless rush of water.
The labyrinth quickly filled, the torrent sweeping away everything in its path. Manaphy stirred the currents into a massive vortex, trapping even the water-dwelling Trench warriors within the swirling chaos. Despite their natural affinity for the water, they found themselves imprisoned, unable to escape the powerful pull of the maelstrom.
At the eye of the vortex, where the waters remained calm, Dean and Damian stood alongside Manaphy, untouched by the chaos surrounding them.
Damian, catching his breath, turned to Dean with an expression of both admiration and disbelief. "So you had this planned all along? Rough, yet brilliant," he murmured, a newfound respect in his gaze.
Dean, however, merely shrugged, unwilling to take full credit. "You should be thanking Manaphy for her perfect timing."
In truth, he had stationed Manaphy within Gotham's underground river system ahead of time, instructing her to respond immediately the moment she sensed his presence.
Without hesitation, Damian stepped forward and wrapped Manaphy in a grateful hug. "Thank you! I didn't expect you to be this strong!" he said earnestly.
Manaphy, however, wriggled free, puffing up with an air of pride. She placed her hands on her hips, striking a confident pose as if to say that she was already a mature Pokémon and protecting the "little Sonic Bat" was simply part of her duty.
"Mana!" she declared.
(Go back and tell the Crossed Bat not to look at me with those scary eyes again!)
Though Damian couldn't understand Manaphy's words, he found her soft cries strangely comforting. A warmth filled his chest, and for the first time in a while, he felt a sense of peace.
As the floodwaters began to recede, returning to the underground river from which they had come, the labyrinth was left in complete disarray. The once-mighty Court of Owls had been utterly dismantled, its members drowning in the very place they had sought to trap their enemies. Their masks, once symbols of their hidden authority, had fallen away, exposing their true faces to the world.
As Dean moved among the defeated nobles, he recognized many of them—city council members, influential figures, or relatives of Gotham's most powerful families. With methodical precision, he retrieved fifty pairs of handcuffs and secured each of them, one by one.
As he finished restraining the last of them, a realization struck him. Penguin would be the one to benefit most from this power vacuum. Gotham's underworld had lost an entire faction overnight, and in their absence, Penguin's influence would undoubtedly expand. The thought irritated him.
"I feel like I just did Penguin a huge favor for free," Dean muttered in frustration. "Damn it. I need to hit him where it hurts when I get the chance."
A familiar notification suddenly flashed in his mind.
[Successfully expelled the Court of Owls. Gained 300 points.]
Despite the system's confirmation that the mission was complete, Dean wasn't ready to rest just yet. His attention shifted to the still-moving figures within the watery prison—Talons, the Court's immortal assassins. They floated motionless for the moment but would soon revive, their cursed existence tethering them to an endless cycle of death and resurrection.
Dean's eyes landed on one in particular, a Talon whose eyes had glowed with an unnatural energy the previous day. The same one who had fired lasers from his eyes.
"Manaphy, release this one," Dean ordered.
The water sphere burst, dropping the Talon onto the cold ground. It didn't take long before the resurrection process kicked in, and the assassin stirred once more. But before he could react, he found his hands bound and his eyes covered.
"Let me go," the Talon said with eerie calm. "Face me properly. I know you wouldn't dare."
Dean, unfazed, continued searching through the assassin's gear. "Do you think I'd fall for such an obvious provocation?" he scoffed. "Besides, aren't you the one who doesn't fight fair? Attacking me out of nowhere, shooting lasers into my eyes—what was that? Genetic modification? Magic artifact?"
The Talon remained silent, offering no answer. But as Dean rummaged through his belongings, he eventually found something that stood out—a peculiar object, different from the usual hidden weapons.
[Name: Pig Talisman]
[Type: Other]
[Quality: ★★☆]
[Attribute: Divine]
[Special Effect: Shocking Electric Eye]
[Description: An octagonal rune stone engraved with the symbol of the Chinese zodiac 'Pig.' Grants the user the ability to fire laser beams from their eyes.
PS: Wearing glasses is not recommended.]
Dean's expression darkened as he stared at the talisman in his hand. A headache was already forming.
"Ah, something unexpected and troublesome has appeared." Dean covered his head in pain.
"What's wrong?" Damian asked, frowning.
Hadn't the Court of Owls just been wiped out in one fell swoop? Why did Dean suddenly look so desperate?
That was because, in his mind, a new system prompt had appeared.
[Visitors from Foreign Lands]:
[The next phase of the series of activities, the mission "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" begins. Obtain the first spell "Pig." A new pool will be opened, and you will get a free drawing opportunity.]
Twelve zodiac signs and twelve talismans—magic artifacts from The Adventures of Jackie Chan. Each talisman possessed a different, powerful ability.
Searching for a talisman was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but that wasn't what troubled Dean the most. It was the meaning behind the talismans appearing in this world.
If all twelve talismans had appeared in the DC Universe, then that meant a certain evil spirit had arrived as well.
"That guy is different from Groudon," Dean muttered to himself.
He stood in the middle of the street as Jim Gordon led a large number of police officers to take away the captured members of the Court of Owls. Batman stood beside him, his presence imposing as ever.
Gordon had no time to feel bitter about Batman's involvement—he was too busy handling the chaos. Because of Dean's actions, most of Gotham's City Council was now either missing or implicated in criminal activity. The interrogations would no doubt reveal even more corruption hidden beneath the surface.
Batman, however, was focused on something else. When Dean and Damian had returned, they hadn't just brought news of the Court's destruction. They had also brought a warning—one that made even Batman pause.
"A demon from another dimension has entered our world," Batman stated grimly.
Dean nodded.
Batman's expression darkened. "Compared to the Three Palace Demons, is he stronger or weaker?"
Dean pouted, shaking his head. "It's hard to say. Maybe stronger, maybe weaker. It depends on us."
Batman didn't understand, and Dean found it difficult to explain.
In Jackie Chan Adventures, gods existed, but their power levels weren't necessarily high. The most important thing about that world was the cosmic balance between righteous chi and black energy. That rule was always in effect, no matter what happened.
And if that rule applied here…
According to it, the stronger righteousness became, the stronger black energy would counterattack. The Justice League was currently at its peak, which meant the universe would naturally respond with an even greater evil. What that would look like, Dean didn't know.
"I can't say for sure," Dean admitted. "But either way, we should start looking for similar artifacts. There are twelve talismans in total, each corresponding to the twelve zodiac signs. The one I found is the 'Pig' Talisman."
He handed the artifact to Batman.
Batman didn't hesitate. He took out a scanning device, recording the talisman's unique energy signature before storing it away in his belt. Dean didn't even consider asking for it back—there was no point.
His dad could locate the talismans using magic and ancient texts, but Dean couldn't. He had to rely on science. With the Pig Talisman as a sample, Wayne Tech would undoubtedly be able to create a talisman radar.
Batman's voice cut through his thoughts. "What are you planning to do with these resurrected Talons?"
Dean turned toward the restrained assassins. Their eyes were covered, their mouths gagged, their limbs bound. Even like this, they were still terrifying. The Dionysium in their veins made them nearly unkillable.
Dean was slightly surprised that Batman would leave the decision to him.
"You solved the Court of Owls," Batman said simply, reading his thoughts. "I was too slow to stop them before it got this far."
"No, it's not your fault, Batman." Dean glanced at the captured Talons.
"The Court of Owls doesn't just hide underground. They are embedded within society itself. Gotham, the United States… the entire world is their nest. Wiping them out completely is impossible. The only way to truly destroy them is to dismantle the systems that allow them to exist.
"And you're part of that system, Batman. You can't destroy them."
Batman didn't respond. He remained silent, his unreadable expression betraying nothing.
Dean exhaled. "These guys can resurrect indefinitely. Freezing them will only trap them for a while. So I plan to use Gotham methods to deal with them."
He picked up a shovel, scooped up a chunk of cement, and let it drop back into the pile with a dull thud.
"We'll pour cement that won't melt, let these rotten corpses sink into the ocean, and bury them along with the sins they carried."
Damian gave a small nod of approval. He moved without hesitation, dragging one of the bound Talons toward the pit where the cement would soon harden.
As they worked, one of the Talons—the one who had wielded the Pig Talisman—suddenly started thrashing wildly. His body jerked in violent spasms as he struggled against his restraints. Though his mouth was still gagged, he let out muffled, desperate shouts.
Dean knelt beside him, tightening the bindings. "Oh? Now you want to talk?"
The Talon kept struggling, his blindfolded head turning frantically.
Batman, who had remained quiet up until now, suddenly stepped forward. His deep voice carried a weight that made everyone pause.
"This one. What is his name?"
Dean looked down at the Talon for a long moment before answering.
"…Thomas. His name is Thomas."
Batman didn't react at first.
Then, Dean dropped the last shovelful of cement, watching as the past was buried along with all its sins.
Last name: Wayne.
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