Chapter 43: The Batman Experience, But Starting From Crime Alley

To die, to sleep—to sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.
— William Shakespeare, *Hamlet*

Batman opened his eyes and sat up from a luxurious, oversized bed.

Alfred woke him and neatly arranged the slightly ruffled duvet.

"Morning, Alfred."

"Morning, Master Bruce."

After washing up, Bruce walked over to the dining table. A lavish breakfast was already laid out, and Bruce's parents were already beginning to enjoy their meal.

"Bruce, we started without you. You slept quite late today," Thomas Wayne said to Bruce.

"Fa... Fa..." Bruce froze in place, utterly speechless. For a moment, he had no idea whether he wanted to say "Father" or blurt out the expletive "F***."

"What's wrong with you, Bruce? Do you feel unwell anywhere?" Martha Wayne asked him.

"I... I..." Such a warm and ordinary conversation left Bruce completely disoriented. He looked at his graying parents, walked in a daze to the bathroom, and splashed cold water on his face.

It took him the entire morning to accept the current reality: he was Bruce Wayne, the playboy and billionaire owner of Wayne Enterprises—though this was supposedly after Thomas Wayne's retirement.

And the Gotham City he lived in was, quite literally, peaceful and safe. Rachel Dawes had become the mayor of Gotham, James Gordon was the commissioner of the police department, and Harvey Dent served as the district attorney. Together, they had successfully curbed crime and corruption in the city.

Meanwhile, the Joker, the Mad Hatter, the Riddler, Poison Ivy... all those deranged supervillains had recovered under the care of the renowned physician Dr. Grida, leaving Arkham Asylum utterly deserted.

As for himself, he had never been Batman. There was no Batcave in Wayne Manor, and Dick Grayson had never become the first Robin; instead, after avenging his own parents alone, he had taken up the mantle of Nightwing.

"This is so bizarre..." Bruce muttered to himself, deep in thought, when his phone suddenly rang.

"Natalia? Is something the matter?"

"Bruce, I wanted to ask if you have any free time tonight. There's a concert I'm attending," Natalia's voice came through the receiver.

"I think... I might not have the time." Bruce hadn't figured out the situation yet; he was hardly in the mood for romance.

"Fine... What a pity." Natalia hung up the phone, sounding somewhat displeased.

Barely two minutes later, Bruce's phone rang again. The voice on the other end was familiar, taking him a moment of reflection to place.

"Zatanna? Is that you?" Bruce recognized the voice's owner. "Is something wrong?"

When Bruce was a young boy, Zatara and his daughter Zatanna had come to Gotham City to perform a magic show.

That year happened to be the very first year after Bruce's parents were murdered. To cheer Bruce up a little, Alfred had invited Zatanna's father to perform magic tricks.

Back then, Bruce had been in no mood for such things, sitting quietly by the lakeside all alone. Zatanna had walked over to him and performed a coin trick.

At the time, Bruce hadn't thought much of magic, dismissing it as mere parlor tricks. Unfortunately, Zatanna actually practiced real magic and promptly performed a vanishing act right before his eyes.

Ever since then, Bruce had believed in magic and grew increasingly fond of Zatanna. The two grew closer and closer, and Bruce even became Zatanna's first love.

"I'm planning to put on a magic show here in Gotham, and I'd like to invite you to attend."

"Uh... I'm afraid I don't have time right now," Bruce politely declined Zatanna's invitation.

Bruce hung up the phone, but his cell phone refused to stay quiet.

"Sylvia St. Cloud? I'm busy lately..."

"Talia? I really don't have time to see your father."

"Selina? You can take whatever you want from Wayne Manor..."

"Rachel, I have some things to attend to right now..."

Bruce struggled to fend off his various girlfriends, growing increasingly annoyed. He knew very well that this wasn't his life. Bruce was him, but he was not this Bruce.

Just then, Bruce inadvertently looked out the window and locked eyes with someone clad in a bat cape.

The naked jealousy shining in that person's eyes left Bruce momentarily stunned.

Yet, that outfit clearly belonged to this world's Batman. Bruce vaulted straight out the window in pursuit; he had a hunch that this person might hold the key to the mismatch between his memories and this world.

The Batman outside the window did not flee, but instead walked directly toward Bruce.

"Who are you?" Bruce demanded.

"It's me." Roland tore off the bat cowl, his face etched with utter gloom.

"What is going on here?" Seeing Roland's face, Bruce felt a wave of perplexity. He had guessed that the person beneath the mask might be another version of himself, Professor Hugo Strange, Kate Kane, or even the Joker, but Roland... was genuinely beyond his expectations.

"To put it briefly, this whole mess starts with Harvey's corruption..."

"What? What happened to Harvey?" Bruce asked urgently.

"He was having some mental issues, so I went to find you for help, only for Commissioner Gordon to tell me you'd been kidnapped," Roland said. "So I went to rescue you, and it took a tremendous amount of effort to bring you back."

"I sort of have a vague recollection... I got hit by a chandelier." Bruce pondered for a moment. "I thought that was just a dream."

"Well, while you were dealing with the mob, you were ambushed, almost blown up by a grenade, then sprayed point-blank in the face with Scarecrow's fear toxin, then smashed squarely by a loose chandelier, and finally mind-controlled by a Wonderland device left behind by the Mad Hatter." Roland sighed, "I have to hand it to you, your mental resistance is truly extraordinary."

"I remember now... So this place is 'Wonderland'?"

"That's right. This is inside your dream." Roland nodded.

"Then how did you get in here?" Bruce asked curiously.

"I heard the Wonderland device creates the most idealized world for whoever enters it. So after taking down the mob and carrying you back, I decided to test out the device myself," Roland said with a depressed expression.

"And as a result, you ended up inside my dream?"

"Exactly. I originally expected to see a bunch of sexy nuns in suspenders, but instead..."

Roland recalled the moment he opened his eyes: a gunshot rang out ahead, a bullet grazing past him to strike his father directly in the chest.

A blossom of blood bloomed across his father's chest, rapidly staining his shirt crimson.

His mother had frozen in shock, letting out a sharp scream. Just as she reached out to shield her husband and son, she was likewise gunned down and fell to the ground, a string of lustrous pearls scattering and rolling across the pavement.