DC: A Cop in Gotham

Chapter 73: The Bell

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The land near Gotham's Botanical Garden has always been highly sought after. It boasts the best air in Gotham and unparalleled security, not because of law enforcement but because the plants themselves serve as the first and last line of defense. Any troublemaker who dares to disturb the peace risks being dealt with in the most natural way—by becoming plant food. That is, if these mutant plants even have a digestive tract.

Despite this, the owner of the botanical garden follows a simple principle: civilians are safe as long as they abide by the sole rule—never harm the plants.

Ivy was seated on a thick vine, her legs lazily crossed as she focused on her work. In front of her was an experimental table lined with a row of test tubes, each filled with various concoctions. Some were pesticides, others were potent poisons, and many were specialized nutrient solutions designed to enhance plant growth. With practiced precision, she mixed two of the liquids, then extended a slender branch from a nearby plant to her fingertip. A single drop of emerald-green liquid formed at the tip before she let it fall into the potion.

The reaction was immediate. The mixture bubbled violently, changing colors in rapid succession while generating fine particles that settled at the bottom of the bottle. Ivy's emerald eyes flickered with interest as she observed the process.

"The environment in this community is really impressive. I didn't see a single crime along the way. That's rare in Gotham," a familiar voice commented.

Dean stepped into the greenhouse, taking in the lush surroundings. Ivy didn't even glance up—she had known of his arrival the moment he set foot in her territory. The plants she had placed throughout the neighborhood kept her informed, whispering to her of any intruders.

Two massive Venus flytraps, each nearly three meters tall, stood at the entrance like loyal guard dogs. Their gaping maws, lined with sharp, ten-centimeter-long spikes, served as their teeth. Dean's gaze flickered to the fresh blood stains at the corners of their mouths. Judging by the color and consistency, it had been at least two days since their last meal.

"Uh, Ivy, I think you forgot to feed your puppies," Dean remarked, shifting slightly as the flytraps swayed in his direction.

Ivy remained unfazed, still focused on her potion. "Really? I'll feed them right now."

Without so much as a warning, the Venus flytrap nearest to Dean lunged forward, clamping its mouth shut around half of his body. It lifted him off the ground, shaking him violently from side to side like a predator playing with its prey.

This finally caught Ivy's attention. She hadn't expected Dean to be caught so easily, given his speed. Tossing the test tube aside, she rushed over, eyes narrowed.

"Good boy, open your mouth and spit him out," she ordered, lightly smacking the flytrap on the head.

In truth, the Venus flytrap had already released Dean before Ivy had spoken. It coughed him up, leaving him sprawled on the ground, covered in thick, translucent white mucus. Around his waist, a few broken thorns jutted out, evidence that the plant had lost some of its teeth in the process.

Dean groaned, wiping the slimy substance off his mask. It stretched like strands of webbing. "You don't even have a throat or a stomach, so why were you so determined to swallow me?"

Ivy turned her gaze toward her Venus flytrap, now missing two rows of its teeth, then back to Dean. Her curiosity outweighed her concern. "How did you do that?"

The plants she cultivated weren't ordinary—they had bite force several times stronger than that of an adult saltwater crocodile. Yet, Dean had emerged without a single scratch.

"Because I drove here and haven't changed back yet. I had the hidden mode activated." Dean finally managed to scrape off the last of the slime. He pulled out the Accel memory and the snake charm, canceling his transformation.

His armor had been invisible, which explained why Ivy hadn't noticed it. It was a technique meant to surprise opponents during battle, and judging by Ivy's reaction, it had worked perfectly.

Dean stretched his shoulders, looking at her with a raised brow. "Ivy, is this how you usually treat your guests? Because if so, I might have to take you back to Arkham." His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness. Raising human-eating plants wasn't exactly in line with her current reformed position.

Ivy let out a soft breath, relieved that Dean was unharmed, but her expression quickly turned cold again. "Of course not. But you entered without permission. Venus Flytrap saw you as a flower thief."

Even if Ivy no longer wanted to be Poison Ivy, people kept coming to recruit her. There was no way around it—she was practically a money tree, and her ability to make plants flourish made her the perfect supplier of certain lucrative leaves.

"Don't worry, I didn't kill any good people by mistake," Ivy said, returning her attention to her potion. "The ones who got eaten were all familiar faces from Arkham. They came to me, each with their own ridiculous scheme to 'rule Gotham.' I got tired of the nonsense, so I let them become part of the botanical garden."

Dean didn't flinch. Gotham was a brutal city, and avoiding bloodshed was nearly impossible. This was precisely why Batman didn't allow most other heroes to operate here—Gotham's criminals weren't just common thugs. They were of a different breed, far more dangerous and unpredictable than those found in other cities.

"Ivy, I came to you today to confirm something," Dean hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"Confirm?" Ivy raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"That's right. I need to test my theory." Dean glanced at her, gauging her reaction. "According to Harleen, ever since you became more plant than human, you lost most of your human desires. When you were with her, it was more out of cooperation than actual enjoyment. But when we were at Harleen's apartment, you acted differently." He met her gaze. "That made me suspect that you might have… special feelings toward me."

Ivy didn't look away. She wasn't the type to shy away from confrontation, especially not over something like this. "You think I like you?" A smirk tugged at her lips. "You must have a pretty high opinion of yourself, little boy."

Her tone was teasing, but there was something else in her gaze—something unreadable. She leaned forward slightly, her expression playful yet challenging. "Harleen and I have dated as many as eight hundred men. Handsome models, rugged bikers, muscular brutes—I've tried every type you can imagine. And you seriously think I'd suddenly be attracted to a kid I've barely known for any time at all?"

She was trying to dismiss the idea outright, but even as she ridiculed Dean, she notably avoided making any comment about his looks.

"Maybe it is just one of life's great illusions," Dean admitted with a shrug, though he didn't look convinced. "But I think I should at least test it."

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a Poké Ball. The previous one had been damaged during his battle with Trigon, so he had drawn another from the system.

Ivy immediately recognized it and narrowed her eyes. "That's the same thing you and Manaphy used when you ambushed me." The memory still irritated her.

"Yeah, it's called a Poké Ball," Dean explained. "Its actual purpose is to capture Pokémon—creatures like Manaphy."

Ivy crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Then why can you hide inside one?"

Dean smirked. "Because I am one. Now, I want to know if you are too."

Before Ivy could react, he tossed the Poké Ball at her. It struck her forehead with a soft thud, and in that instant, the ball snapped open, releasing a beam of red light that enveloped her. Ivy's eyes widened in shock as her body was pulled into the Poké Ball.

The ball dropped to the ground, its center glowing red as it rocked side to side. Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he watched.

One shake.

Two shakes.

Three.

With a soft "click," the ball locked shut, and the red light in the center turned green.

"Just as I thought." Dean exhaled, picking up the Poké Ball. His emotions were complicated—part excitement, part unease. He had suspected this outcome, but seeing it confirmed in reality was something else entirely.

Pressing the release button, he let Ivy materialize back in the botanical garden. She stood there, her arms at her sides, staring at him with a blank expression.

"What did you just do to me?"

Dean held up a small spray bottle, the same one he had used to heal her back in Arkham.

[Name: Good Wound Medicine]

[Type: Drug]

[Quality: ★]

[Special Effect: Healing]

[Description: A spray-type wound medicine that restores 60 HP upon use. Please do not use in combat unless you want to spray wildly.]

[PS: This kind of medicine is common in its original world, but this bottle is particularly special. USE WITH CAUTION.]

Dean kept his grip firm on the spray bottle, watching Ivy's reaction. She hadn't lashed out, which was a good sign, but he knew she wasn't going to let this go so easily.

The words "USE WITH CAUTION" were specially bolded. Before, Dean didn't understand the significance, but now it was all too clear.

His Pokémon physique had allowed him to push beyond human limits, but it also created a stark divide—reproductive isolation between him and normal humans. The alpaca master, in his infinite wisdom, had apparently foreseen this issue and prepared a special "good medicine" just for him.

This wasn't just a healing spray. It had another, far more profound effect—one that Dean had never considered until now.

"This bottle of spray didn't just heal you," Dean admitted, his voice steady as he looked at Ivy. "It turned you into a Pokémon, just like me."

He reached into his pocket, retrieving the small bell he had given her before. "And this," he continued, holding up the Soothing Bell, "has a passive effect. When carried by a Pokémon, it increases intimacy with the trainer."

Ivy stared at him, her sharp green eyes narrowing as realization dawned.

"In other words, Ivy," Dean said with a quiet sigh, "all the feelings you've had toward me… They weren't real. They were just an illusion created by the bell."

The greenhouse was silent, save for the faint rustling of leaves as a breeze passed through. The weight of Dean's words hung heavy between them, and for the first time, Ivy didn't have a sharp retort ready.

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Double Chapters today because the chapters are short, i might be able to make it longer but would you like it when it's full of AI words.

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