Chapter 3: Fragments of the People

Inside a church that not a single surveillance camera could find, this was where Jason was held.

“Jason Todd, huh? You really have some nerve,” Roland sneered. “I trusted you with my heart, and you pissed on me. I kindly invited you to dinner, and this is how you repay me?”

“Can I say this is a misunderstanding?” Jason pleaded pitifully, hanging upside down on a cross, looking at Roland with wide, sorrowful eyes.

“Do you think I’d believe that?” Roland toyed with the hat he had pulled off Jason’s head, examining it for a moment before casually putting it back on Jason.

“Give up that hope! A new law now rules Wonderland, Alice. It’s the law of rampant, haphazard punishment everywhere you look. We're all in danger here. You... stay alert!” Jason’s voice suddenly took on a mysterious, lively tone as he recited a passage from *Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland*.

“What a powerful hypnotic tool,” Roland muttered, continuing to experiment with Jason.

“Let me go... Alice, where do you want to go... imprisoning minors is illegal... so any way is fine...” Jason’s words faltered, switching between two different styles.

“Good stuff. Maybe I can lure a little nun in garter stockings over with this,” Roland said, eyes gleaming as he held the hat.

Before he could finish, Batman roared in like a savior on his motorcycle, shattering the church’s glass. Amidst a thousand shards of colored light, he descended like an angel, landing above Roland.

“Holy crap...” Roland was stunned speechless.

Jason’s eyes lit up too—such a cool bike was irresistible to a boy.

Batman leapt off the motorcycle, casting a cold glare at Roland. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Roland,” he said, handing over his ID card.

“...Chinese?” Batman spoke in Mandarin thick with a Tibetan accent. “No passport?”

“Not really...” Roland struggled to understand the accent. “Maybe you should speak English; I can understand that better.”

“What are you doing in Gotham?”

“Doing good deeds,” Roland answered honestly. Then he watched as Batman walked over and lifted him up.

“Trust me, I’m a good person!”

“Then what about this kid?”

“I invited him to dinner out of kindness, but he betrayed me and stole my stuff. Caught red-handed, with solid evidence!” Roland pointed at the stolen goods on the table.

On the table lay a small statue of Jesus, seemingly once embedded in the church wall.

“So you plan to abuse vigilante justice?”

“Not exactly. I plan to make him work here for free.”

“What were you just doing to him?” Batman set Roland down and picked up the hat. “This is the Mad Hatter’s brainwave controller, an extremely dangerous technological device. You can’t just use it on people.”

“I was just experimenting...”

Batman fell silent for a moment, still staring coldly at Roland. From his observations, the man’s physiological responses didn’t seem deceitful, yet there was something off about him.

“Alright, I’m taking you to the police station now. Anything you want to say?”

“You mean because I lack legal ID, illegally harbor a boy and make him work for me, abuse vigilante justice, and possess untraceable high-tech gadgets, you want to throw me in jail?” Roland shrugged. “Haven’t you done all those things yourself?”

“Seems you know some things about me.” Batman’s eyes narrowed. Now he understood where the strange feeling came from earlier.

Roland’s relaxed demeanor was unusual—was it because he had a clear conscience? Or did he have some other leverage?

“I’ve heard some rumors.”

They stared at each other—Batman trying to spot a flaw in Roland’s eyes, Roland trying to figure out which version of Batman this was... ruling out Lego Batman first.

“Could you please put me down so we can talk?” Jason, exhausted from hanging upside down, suggested.

“Fine.” Roland lowered him with a cold smile. “But you still owe me for stealing my stuff.”

“I know.” Jason raised his hands. “I agree to work for free as you said.”

“Just so you know, there’s no pay, no weekends, no holidays—007 work schedule,” Roland said mercilessly, then painted a grand vision. “The church—uh, I mean the company—is struggling financially. We all need to get through this tough time together, don’t be petty. Once we go public, you’ll be a founding member and share the dividends.”

Batman silently regarded him, suddenly feeling this priest was more of a capitalist than he was.

“Alright.” Jason agreed immediately. Twenty-four-hour work? That basically meant room and board. He even wanted to bring other poor kids over to work.

“Okay, your working relationship can be discussed later. First, let’s go to the police station,” Batman said.

“Do I have to go too?” Jason asked.

“There are questions about the Mad Hatter for both of you,” Batman explained. “Everyone else controlled by Mad Hatter’s hat is hospitalized, but you’re the only one unharmed. Roland, you spoke to him while he was clear-headed. The police need some clues.”

“...Why not just ask directly?” Roland was puzzled. “Do we really have to go?”

“The police need clues. If you don’t go, they might come here, and unnecessary conflict could arise,” Batman said, mounting the Batcycle.

“Fine.” Roland’s eyes flickered as he looked at the motorcycle. “How about you give us a ride?”

Batman said nothing and revved the engine, speeding away from the church.

The police radio crackled in his earpiece—the night in Gotham was still long, and Batman had no time to waste.

“This guy’s really rude,” Roland couldn’t help but complain.

“...Man, I really want to try riding that bike,” Jason sighed.

“Me too,” Roland nodded. “Let’s go... By the way, do you know where the police station is?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded. “The subway will get us there quickly.”

“The subway? We’re walking.”

“Do you know how far it is?”

“No matter how far, we can only walk,” Roland turned out his pockets, which were cleaner than his face.

“How much does the subway cost?” Jason began sharing life hacks. “Just jump over the turnstile or squeeze through the emergency exit.”

“Great idea!” Roland agreed cheerfully. “Let’s go.”

“But what about food? Working for free is fine, but I can’t starve here.”

“There’s enough Italian pasta in the kitchen to last us a few days. You won’t starve.”

“And after that?”

“I have my ways,” Roland smiled. “By the way, don’t you know a lot of homeless kids? Tomorrow, bring them here. I want to treat them to a meal.”

“...Batman just came to your church. Don’t do anything reckless,” Jason warned.

“What do you take me for? I’m just trying to do good, alright?” Roland said firmly. “Let’s go, we’re heading out.”

“Oh.” Jason followed Roland out the door, then stepped hard on an arm.

Good news: he didn’t step on a person. Bad news: he stepped on a piece of the People’s Statue.