The coming days I spent by keeping a low profile and learning about my new surroundings. After all, I am not Bruce Wayne. Neither in terms of funds, gadgets or knowledge about the city I am in. Heck, each time Toby called me ‘Mr. Batman’, I didn’t feel addressed at all. But at the same time, something inside of me refused to tell him my real name. In hindsight, it was probably I believed that relinquishing that moniker would be a lot like admitting that I am not cut out for what I set out to do. I probably really wasn’t, but considering that something within me desperately wanted all of this to be a dream, where anything was possible. Where I could do everything. Where I was not just a meek, little, office guy with an slightly below average paygrade and far too little recognition for the things I did. I wanted to be able to make a difference. And this dream was my chance to do it. That’s what I told myself at the time.

About 5 days into my stay, I believed to have learned enough about the small town and its inhabitants, also thanks to my personal Alfred Toby, who kept filling me in on the going ons, the who is who and the likes. Without him, I likely would have failed prior to taking any action at all. He introduced me to the more important ones of the local people, who were organizing the joint and together we silently formed the ‘League of Champions who wanted to get out of here’. Some of these guys and girls were actually people I’d rather not have hit the streets, but allies were few and far in between. Beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. Together, we were a group of 20 people, facing off against the lethargy of about 300, who had been proclaimed ‘champions’ somewhere down the line. Some of them came from prestigious warrior families and wanted out to fight the war against the demon lord, like they were raised to do from early on. Some others were ‘removed from the picture’ by being declared champions, much like Toby. And then there were those who had been indicted to have committed a crime, ranging from petty theft to alleged murder, however, of course, all of them were innocent. Or at least that’s what the verdict of their trial said. Well, at the very least, it’s what they told me, when I asked how they ended up here. In the course of those five days, I came to realize, that calling myself ‘Batman’ may have been more fitting than I thought. For if I am Batman, this was Arkham City. Fortunately without the maniac obsessed with riddles though. I really didn’t want to deal with that crap. Seriously, he only was in there to stretch the game. I mean, it was still okay in the first installment of the series, but

As the night of the fifth night fell, I got my first chance to ‘introduce’ myself to the bullies of the town. Now, I did not put on a black cloak or anything, nor did I perch on top of some building decoration (while it certainly would have raised the coolness factor, I don’t think I could’ve taken a drop from 10-15 meters as well as Bruce would’ve, y’know, him being a comic character and all that.)
Anyway. As I already stated, there were all kinds of people being sent here for various reasons. One of the most cruel ones I came across, were a bunch of young women, who had fallen in love with the wrong guy and got themselves knocked up, much like the woman I had met on the road. And while the woman I had met had the sensibility of running away in time, some of the women in this compound had been less fortunate and were now trying to make ends meet while caring for a child that never should have been born. And even though I cannot prove it, I’m somewhat sure that some of the children running around the streets were not sired by some asshole outside of these walls, if you get what I mean. In my opinion, these girls should never have had to come here, but that’s politics for you. Uncaring and indifferent to the fate of the people.
As I walked the streets after sundown, still trying to figure out on how to go about this ‘cleanup’ I so haughtily had proclaimed without ending up with a broken back or even worse, I hear a high-pitched shriek, which was quickly hushed. Now, you don’t need a lot of imagination to tell what was going on, so I hurried to where the noise had come from and, indeed, I find a group of 5 grown men hovering over a girl. This was it. This was my moment to shine. My moment to make a difference, however small it might seem in the grand picture. And yet I hesitated, as they kept tearing at the poor girl’s clothes. It was 5 against one. 5 tall and muscular men, without much doubt intoxicated, at least judging by the slurred noises they’d call ‘speech’. We were in a narrow pathway. I had often imagined how to react if I ever ended up in a situation such as this, however ‘call the police and stall them if possible’ was not an option here. And yet I needed to do something.

I took a deep breath and yelled from the top of my lungs, silently hoping that someone else would hear and come to my aid, “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
The punks stopped trying to rip the girl’s clothes off and turned to me, obviously far more annoyed than actually impressed by me calling them out.
One of them grunted, “Find yourself your own pieca meat, dude. This one’s ours.”
I took a step towards them and said, again much louder than would have been necessary, hoping that it would somehow mask the shaking in my voice, “Have you ever heard of ‘No means no’?!”
They stopped again, even just briefly and one of them grunts to the other, “Make sure she doesn’t run. Ralf. Felix. Methinks someone needs to be taught a lesson.”
I assumed a defensive stance, just like I had been taught in the tutorial, as three of the 5 let go of the girl and now instead headed towards me.
The boss of the group looked at me in the dim light of his lamp and cackled, “Now lookit the old man. Ya got lost or something, Pops? Must be, cause t’is is our turf. And all who wanna pass, must pay the toll.”

I muttered under my breath, “Do I really look that old…?” but still kept my defensive stance. If only I could get them to attack me one by one, I could do this. But what are the chances of that?
Looking around, I found my answer. The alley we were in had a particular narrow spot, one that hardly allows for more than one person to pass through. I carefully stepped back, making sure to not leave the punks out of my eyes for even a moment. A mistake, as I had to learn, for after a few steps, I felt myself bump against something soft and fleshy.
Upon looking back, I realized that another group of five had appeared, armed with clubs, maces and swords. And something told me, that they were not with the cavalry.
After realizing my predicament I asked weakly, while my brain desperately started looking for a way out that simply wasn’t there, “You wouldn’t happen to be respectable and law-abiding citizens, who merely happened to pass by, heard the commotion and came to help, right?”
The front guy cracked his knuckles and replied, “Oh, we did come to help...afraid it’s not you or the girl we came to help. You okay, Boss?”
“Yeah, just get him outta my sight, so I can get back to business!” the proclaimed leader of the bunch said and turned back towards the girl.
What happened next though, neither I nor any of the brutes did see coming. The girl used the moment of distraction efficiently and delivered a powerful kick to the groin of the larger and while he was still falling, she pulled her now free leg back, rolled over in a fluent motion and landed a direct hit against the others head from the side. She rose to her feet, the one guy writhing in pain, the other lodged against a brick wall with his head and out cold and there was not a single shred of insecurity in her look. The quote: ‘I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I’ve got it covered.’ popped into my mind and before I knew what was happening, all hell broke loose. The guys behind me tried to get into the alley to grab the girl and tried to waltz over me in the process. Needless to say, I didn’t take too kindly to being waltzed over and started punching and hitting blindly into the wave of flesh that was about to overwhelm me. By the sheer power of desperation I somehow managed to stem the tide, because I knew that I wouldn’t live if I went down right there. The girl young woman now faced off against the other three who had turned their direction to me.
Their boss sprung a hidden blade from somewhere and slurred, “Oh, ye shuldn’t have done t’at, Missy. We only wanted sem fun...but now, I’mafraid I’ll have’ta wreck t’at pretty face of yours.”
Or something like that, I was a little preoccupied at the moment, so I might not have gotten everything right.
What I’m sure of though is, that the girl said something I’d never forget to this day.
“Sorry boys. My plans for tonight just changed.”

And then she charged forward like a hurricane in human shape and knocked out two of the henchmen with a roundhouse kick Chuck Norris couldn’t have done better. She landed, evaded a stab from the knife, grabbed the arm, broke it in one swift motion, making the knife clatter to the ground and kicking the boss of the group to the ground, turning him into a sobbing pile of misery in a matter of seconds.
She then turned towards the already decimated group of thugs and said, “Well, who’s next?!”
I swear to God, I’ve never seen anyone run as fast as those guys. They didn’t even bother to take their wounded with them. Not even their boss, for this would have meant getting close to her.

She then approached me, her clothes torn, her feet bare, but she now had an air of dedication about her that didn’t allow a single thought about her being the almost victim of a rape.
No, this woman was the queen of the street that night.
And none in their right mind must dare to oppose her. Or else.