DC: A Cop in Gotham

Chapter 22: Visiting Arkham

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Gordon and Dean did not go home that night, leaving Barbara to have dinner alone. The two had been called to a special location—a place unlike any other in Gotham.

The prison van carried Dean and Gordon to the deep suburbs of Gotham, a remote area infamous for housing the most dangerous structure in the city.

"Arkham..."

Through the car window, Dean stared at the towering walls surrounding the asylum. The beams of searchlights swept over their vehicle, a harsh reminder of the facility's impenetrable defenses. Dean had read and heard about Arkham in countless ways, but seeing it in person sent a chill down his spine.

Gordon patted him on the shoulder. "That sinking feeling in your chest? It's normal. I felt the same my first time here. Relax—it's just a building, after all."

Dean exhaled, trying to calm himself. "The security here seems even tighter than Blackgate Prison."

Blackgate Prison is located on an isolated island and has an excellent geographical location, while Arkham's defense was built entirely with manpower and money.

"That's because Arkham holds the truly dangerous ones," Gordon explained. "These aren't just criminals—they're deeply mentally ill, dangerous and psychotic individuals. And most of them were put here by Batman himself."

He pointed toward the gates. "People like Poison Ivy don't just commit crimes—they wield powers no normal person could handle. That's why Arkham spares no expense on security."

Gordon took Dean inside, and a fat guard greeted and came up to them with a broad grin and an open arms, Warden Ham. He seemed to be very familiar with Gordon.

"Gordon! Back again already? Bringing us another one of Gotham's finest psychos?"

Gordon returned a weary smile. "You seem as cheerful as ever, Ham. How do you stay so positive in a place like this?"

Ham laughed heartily. "You have to keep a sense of humor in a job like mine, or you'd go mad yourself."

His gaze shifted to the unconscious woman being transported on a stretcher behind them. "Poison Ivy, huh? Looks like Batman really did a number on her this time."

Gordon shook his head. "Actually, it wasn't Batman."

Ham raised an eyebrow in surprise. "No kidding? Don't tell me the GCPD finally upgraded their arsenal!"

It's not that Ham looks down on the Gotham police. As a police himself, he knew they have too many restrictions. In comparison, super criminals are very flexible. And these criminals are captured by Batman.

Gordon smirked faintly. "If only. Our budget's been cut by 10% this year. No, this time, it wasn't equipment—it was him."

He gestured toward Dean, who stood pale-faced and tired behind the stretcher.

"This is Dean, our youngest patrol officer. He's the one who took Poison Ivy down."

"A patrolman?" Ham's confusion was evident. "You're saying this kid caught Poison Ivy?"

Ham didn't understand why Gordon emphasized this, and he didn't understand why Dean, who was valued by Gordon, had the lowest police rank.

Dean managed a weak smile, clearly still recovering from the ordeal. "Yeah, that was me."

"Well, don't look so glum!" Ham clapped him on the back. "That's a hell of an accomplishment, kid. You should be proud. If you want a promotion and a raise, you should smile.""

Dean forced another smile but quickly reverted to his neutral expression. "Mr. Ham, I don't think there's much to smile about in this place."

Ham chuckled. "Fair enough. Arkham has a way of wiping the grin off anyone's face."

A sudden burst of crazed laughter erupted from somewhere deeper within the facility. Ham's demeanor shifted instantly, his jovial attitude replaced by a somber expression.

"On second thought," he muttered, "you're absolutely right."

After passing through several layers of security, Dean found himself in Arkham's inner sanctum. Here, Gordon handed the reins to the medical staff, who took over the task of transporting Poison Ivy to her designated ward.

"You'll have to go in without me," Gordon said. "Get used to this place—you'll probably be back more often than you'd like."

Dean nodded and followed the guards and staff deeper into the asylum. As they wheeled Poison Ivy through the corridors, inmates from nearby cells began shouting.

"Hey, look who it is!" The criminal closest to the door booed loudly.

"Poison Ivy, back again! Did Batman finally decide to stop pulling his punches?"

Another inmate sneered, "Serves her right! That plant freak never cared about anyone but herself and her plants."

Amid the mocking and laughter, someone noticed Dean trailing behind.

"She deserves it. Who made her refuse to let us go out together at that time, this selfish bitch!"

Some people gloated, while others sneered: "Poison Ivy is a plant supremacist. If you were a foxtail plant, she might take you out, hahaha!"

"Well, well! What do we have here? A fresh-faced cop in Arkham? Looks like we've got a volunteer for 'newbie hazing'!"

"Why don't you let your uncle teach you how to become a big policeman!"

The accompanying medical staff had long been accustomed to this, and Dean was not afraid of these guys who could only yell. He looked at these guys who were regularly injected with psychotropic drugs and could still talk nonsense.

Bad guys, they are all bad guys, killing bad guys = points, I don't know how much each one is worth.

Those who wanted to fuck Dean found that instead of being intimidated, Dean was staring at them with salivation. The group of people closed their mouths and felt chills running down their spines.

The guards pushed Poison Ivy's stretcher forward, while Dean scanned each cell carefully, memorizing the faces of the most notable prisoners.

"Hey, doc," Dean asked one of the accompanying staff members, "is it always this... loud in here? Doesn't it disturb the others?"

The female doctor adjusted her glasses. "They're not prisoners—they're patients," she corrected. "But yes, it's unusual. Lately, they've been more restless than usual, even with increased sedation. Something seems... off."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Another abnormality, huh?"

Super villains like Poison Ivy are imprisoned in deeper special wards, and the defenses are tighter. He can't get out of these without using the Omnitrix.

Manaphy was left outside with Gordon by Dean. Dean did not want Arkham to pollute her pure heart.

The heavy metal door opened, and the moment he stepped inside, many eyes first glanced at Poison Ivy, and then all focused on the unfamiliar face of Dean.

Dean noticed a pair of glowing yellow eyes watching him from the shadows of a nearby cell.

"Roar!"

A hulking figure lunged at the metal bars, its sharp teeth snapping just inches from Dean's face. The stench of decay filled the air as the creature growled.

"That's Killer Croc," the doctor said nervously.

Dean stepped closer, seemingly unbothered by the feral display. "Killer Croc, huh? Gotta say, you're pretty impressive up close. But, uh, you ever think about brushing your teeth?"

Dean showed a row of white teeth.

Killer Crocodile was stunned. No one had ever praised his appearance before, and he could see that Dean did not mean to mock, which made him very uncomfortable.

He bared his teeth and claws at Dean for a while, and when he saw that Dean was about to start applauding, Killer Crocodile felt that it's not worth it, he crouched in a corner with his back to Dean. He recalled the time when he performed in the circus.

The female doctor was very surprised: "How did you calm this beast? The sedatives had little effect on him."

Dean covered his mouth and whispered to himself: "I've been using my sword too much recently, maybe that's why i look intimidating."

The style of painting has been taken astray, he is a serious character, how can he fix it!

"Officer Dean?"

"Oh, just give him more therapy. If you can improve his prison… the ward environment will be better. Let's give him a toothbrush suitable for him first."

Dean couldn't control himself, or maybe he was just so out of tune.

"Bed…"

A dull voice came out of the crocodile's mouth. Killer Crocodile grabbed the railing and looked directly at the female doctor.

"I don't want a toothbrush, I want a bigger bed. I can't sleep on a normal size bed!"

Seeing Killer Croc reacting so violently, the female doctor carefully considered Dean's proposal and felt it was feasible. Drugs have never been the main method of treating mental illness, but an auxiliary means. Improving the patient's living environment can make them relax.

Treating everyone equally is sometimes not a good idea, especially for those with special physiological needs like Killer Crocodile, who should be treated as special cases.

It was decided that Killer Croc should be used as a pilot, and then the dean would be asked to customize a set of toiletries for Killer Croc, so that at least he wouldn't have to endure his bad breath.

What? Is there any precedent for sharpening a toothbrush as a weapon? Look at Killer Croc's physique. Does he need a weapon? He can only use his toothbrush to pick his teeth after it is sharpened!

Many things that are contraband to ordinary prisoners are actually meaningless to these super criminals, at least in terms of prison escape. Anyway, every time a major incident occurs, Arkham will be breached.

The group left Poison Ivy in her reinforced ward, her emerald body motionless on the stretcher as the staff prepared her for confinement. Dean watched silently, his focus interrupted by a sharp voice from a nearby cell.

"Hey, look who decided to visit!"

Dean turned to see Clayface, his distorted features pressed against the bars of his cell.

"Another fresh face. Let me guess, you're the one who brought in Ivy. Got a big head about it, don't you?"

Dean smirked, stepping closer to the cell. "Clayface, right? You're the one who can shapeshift into anyone. Let me ask you something—if you turn into a woman, could you, uh, get pregnant?"

The question hung in the air, shocking both the female doctor and Clayface himself.

"You've got some nerve, kid," Clayface growled. "When I get out of here, I'll make sure you regret that. You won't know who to trust, because anyone around you could be me."

Dean shrugged, unfazed. "Sure, but before that happens, maybe turn into Angelina Jolie. I promise I won't resist."

The other inmates erupted into laughter as Clayface sank back into his cell, muttering angrily.

The female doctor was looking at Dean with a disgusted expression this time. She couldn't understand why the upright and selfless Director Gordon would allow such a scumbag to enter Arkham alone…perhaps letting him visit in advance. The ward of the future?

No wonder he would propose to improve the patient's living environment. The female doctor suddenly realized that everything made sense.

Dean didn't know what the female doctor was thinking. He deliberately angered Clay Face because he was sure of defeating Clay Face, but Killer Croc didn't have a good solution.

"We're here, let's put the people in."

The wall of the ward where Poison Ivy was originally held was smashed by crazy plants, and it is now vacant.

The doctors and nurses lifted off the white cloth on Poison Ivy's body, revealing her emerald green body – Poison Ivy never wore much clothes.

In this way, the wound on Poison Ivy's heart was exposed to everyone's eyes. Clayface's eyes widened and his chin continued to tremble.

"Oh my god, it looks like Poison Ivy's heart is gone – Batman killed someone!"

Letting out a scream that was no different from that of a woman, Clayface seemed to have seen the end of the world and began to struggle in the straitjacket.

"What, Batman killed someone?"

"That man can actually kill people?"

All the wards rang out Batman's name at this moment, because they were all shrouded in the shadow of the bat.

Until the man spoke.

"Clayface, don't spread rumors and ridiculous conclusions drawn by your smooth brain."

His pale face appeared in the light, and he stared at Poison Ivy.

"Poison Ivy is nothing. The only one who can make him violate his principles is me. You guys… huh?"

The clown's gaze towards Poison Ivy was blocked by someone, and Dean walked towards him.

The clown was tied to the electrocution chair, with only a railing between them.

Dean bent down, and under the inexplicable impulse, he did what he had always wanted to do but did not dare to do.

"Joker, Smile and do tricks for me."

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