Night.

Night in Gotham City meant many things. One of them was the renewal of resources for the coming day. Another one was the renewal of drugs for the coming day. Another one was the renewal of bodies for the coming day.

Night.

Night in Gotham City meant many things. One of them was sleep for the citizens. Another one was the sleep for the cops. Another one was sleep for cops who tried to take down wide and awake criminals.

Night.

Night in Gotham City meant many things. One of them was vengeance. Another one was anger. Another one was Batman.

---

Joey Lachs puffed out a bloom of smoke from his cigarette, and dragged the stubbed into the nearby wall as he strode towards the pile of boxes on the newly arrived pallet. Joey was a dependable guy, and he used to work in a factory until mob boss Sal Maroni bumped and knocked Joey down. Sal in the old day used to shoot people who he did that too, but was feeling fortunate and instead asked him if he would like to do some lifting for him by the docks for $50 bucks an hour. Being five times that much he made at the factory, Joey didn't wait a microsecond before he said yes.

It turns out Joey gets to lift boxes full of crack and heroin, something he doesn't mind. After all for five hours of work and 750 for three days of work, he wasn't doing too bad.

He doesn't care about those bums and ethnics in the Narrows anyhow.

As he took the box out and placed it into the van set for St. Lawrence, a light behind him cracked and blew up. Joey jumped up and pulled out his trashy .38, aiming directly at the now deceased bulb.

"Yo!" Joey shouted out at the darkness.

Silence.

"Yo!"

Silence looming.

"Yo Shinnie! Is that you fucking around?" Joey shouted.

"No," uttered a deep and nasal voice from behind him.

Joey jumped

"It's me."

As Joey whipped around, a gloved fist whipped right into his face.

Batman treaded over Joey's limp body and kicked the gun away from his hands. He pulled an object from his belt and threw it into the pile of boxes, and for extra measure threw several more into the vans all over the garage.

He fired his grappling hook into the rafters and sailed out a window as several muffled explosions blew up the drugs and the drug cars.

---

"Sal. We appreciate you taking over the business after Falcone got jacked by that Batperson or whatever. But for gods' sake at least he kept business running in the city. Even when he was in that prison." Nathanial Morelli spat out.

"This Batman is putting a serious dent into our activities. Our dealers in Northern Gotham are now crippled for a week. That's about 15 grand we ain't getting." Spector Arville said.

"Not to mention those Nips trying to crunch in on China Town. Goddamn Chinamen can even hold up with the Japs, not even in their own country." Elihu Cannoti chipped in.

Sal Maroni was quietly sipping his tea as this ruckus went about his ears. Kids. What do they know. Falcone was good at what he did, but Maroni was better. So what if the Batman blew up a pallet. The rest of Gotham was still dealing, and when Falcone got busted that night, all drugs in the city halted. At least some bum in Gotham was still getting his hard earned crack.

"Gentlemen," Maroni said after the noise piped down.

"Your positions have been duly noted. You're right. The Batman is a serious threat to our operations. So are the Yakuza trying to slice in on Gotham herself."

"What do you intend to do about it Sal? We're going to go the way of the doodoo if we don't break these fools down." Cannoti said.

"It's Dodo Elihu. Dodo. I do have an answer. There's talk of a crew led by a man. A man with theatrics much like the Batman."

"What like a rubber tiara or something," Spector said to great effect as the other men at the table guffawed at his remark.

"No. He likes to paint his face, and he is very messy in his work. But he scares people. And he's becoming more than a mark for the cops. He's becoming a symbol, much like the Batman. But much more terrifying"

"I think I know what you're talking about. The guy with the fucked up smile. I thought he was a joke." Morelli said.

"No joke. However he is rather fond of laughing. While he is certainly very…eccentric he does fulfill a role very well." Continued Maroni.

"What role is that." Said Arville.

"Getting the cops and more importantly the Batman off our tail. This leaves us to rid of the Lost Samurai," said Maroni to chuckles at the table.

"Hell, we can even get him to fuck those Japs while we at it." Said Cannoti to great cheers at the table.

"This guy will fuck up Gotham so bad if we get him better resources, we can reap in the misery from his work." Maroni said with a grin.

"What's his name, this guerilla?" said Arville

"What is he a monkey?" Cannoti asked

"No, he means guerilla, as in guerilla terrorist. Because that's what he is, a man who inspires terror." Said Morelli.

"Yes Nathanial. This maniac, this terrorist is very…theatrical as stated before. I don't even know his real name. But he calls himself…the Joker."