Jason dangled Two-Face from the ceiling beam, the rope creaking as his victim swayed forty feet above the warehouse floor. Blood trickled down Harvey's temple from the crash, his suit torn and singed.

  "Wakey, wakey," he kicked Harvey's shoulder, sending him spinning like a spinning pi?ata.

  "You son of a bitch!" Two-Face thrashed against the bonds. "When I get out of here—"

  "You'll what? Flip a coin?" Jason kicked him again. "Your guys are in custody, your lab's toast, and that water supply scheme? Done."

  "You think this is over?" Harvey spat blood. "You have no idea what's coming. My employer—"

  "Yeah, about that." Jason crouched on the beam. "Who hired you? Must've been someone with deep pockets to make you play errand boy."

  "Go to hell!"

  "Already been there. Didn't stick." Jason pulled his pistol. "Last chance, Harvey. Who's behind this?"

  Two-Face laughed. "You really think I'm scared of you? Batman's reject? His failed Robin?"

  "Batman would keep you alive," Jason pressed the gun to Harvey's head. "Me? I'm still deciding."

  "Do it then," he sneered. "Pull the trigger. Prove you're the monster they say you are."

  A monster. The word hit different now compared to when he first heard it years ago. Jason embraced how it made his trigger finger twitch.

  He'd crossed that line before - putting down scum like Harvey was nothing new. But Batman's shadow wrap over him like it always did, a constant reminder of rules and restraint. The old man's disapproval followed Jason everywhere, even now.

  Still, the thought of being feared, of being the boogeyman that kept Gotham's worst up at night... it felt right. Natural. His gun against Harvey's temple...it brought back memories of other executions, other choices. Maybe monster wasn't such a bad word after all.

  "Nah," Jason holstered his weapon. "Death's too easy. But a few hours hanging here might loosen your tongue. I'll be back when you're ready to talk."

  "I'll kill you for this!" Harvey screamed as Jason walked away. "You hear me? I'll tear you apart!"

  Jason waved without looking back. "Sure you will, Harv. Sure you will."

  He pulled off his helmet with a click, revealing the domino mask underneath. The red material curved around his eyes, a remnant of his Robin days that he couldn't quite shake. He leaned back against a concrete pillar as he reloaded his pistol with rubber bullets.

  "You know what, Harvey? I've got all night," he fired a shot that caught Two-Face in the shoulder, making him swing like a demented pendulum. "And plenty of ammo."

  "Screw you!" Two-Face spat blood with his face in a mess of cuts from the earlier crash. "You think this is funny? Playing games?"

  "Actually, yeah," Another shot pinged off the rope near Harvey's hands, making him flinch. "I'm having a blast. Way better than patrol. Go on. Scream. No one’s going to hear you."

  "When I get down from here—"

  "You'll what?" Jason interrupted, putting another round into Harvey's thigh. "Call your mysterious boss? Speaking of which, still waiting on that name."

  Two-Face thrashed against the bonds. "I told you...go to hell!"

  "Been there," Jason lined up another shot. "Got the t-shirt. Now about that employer..."

  "Keep shooting, you psychotic little shit. I'm not telling you anything."

  "Fine by me," Jason's next shot caught Harvey in the gut, doubling him over as much as the ropes allowed. "Like I said, I got all night. And tomorrow night. And the next. I've got nowhere else to be."

  The warehouse blasted with gunshots and Two-Face's curses as Jason kept up his target practice, waiting for Harvey to break. One way or another, he'd get what he needed. He just had to be patient - and patience was something the Red Hood had in spades when it came to making criminals suffer.

  "Really, Jason? Playing target practice with Two-Face?" Oracle's voice crackled through his comm.

  He fired another round that caught Harvey in the shoulder. "Just having a friendly chat."

  "This isn't what we discussed. Batman wouldn't—"

  "Good thing I'm not Batman then," Jason cut her off, lining up another shot. "Unless you've got a better way to make him talk?"

  "There are other methods that don't involve shooting someone repeatedly with rubber bullets."

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Like what? Ask nicely?" Jason laughed. "Harvey here was about to poison half of Gotham. He's lucky I'm using non-lethal rounds."

  Two-Face spat blood. "When I get free—"

  Another shot caught him in the leg, cutting off his threat.

  "Jason..." Barbara's tone carried a warning.

  "Someone paid him to contaminate the city's water supply. That means there's a bigger player involved. You want me to just let that go?"

  "No, but—"

  "Then let me work," Jason reloaded his pistol. "I'll get the information we need."

  "And if he doesn't break?"

  "He'll break," Jason aimed at Harvey again. "They always do. Now unless you've got actual intel for me, I've got work to finish."

  Barbara sighed through the comm. "Just...try not to kill him."

  "No promises," Jason muttered as he squeezed the trigger again, hitting Two-Face in the chest. "Oww, that’s gotta hurt."

  Hours ticked by in a brutal rhythm of gunshots and curses. Jason kept his position against the pillar, firing rubber rounds at Two-Face's swaying form. The criminal's threats had devolved into wordless snarls of pain, but still no information about his employer.

  Around midnight, Jason pulled out a sandwich from his jacket pocket and unwrapped it between shots, taking bites of turkey and swiss while Harvey dangled. Blood stained Two-Face's suit in growing patches where the rubber bullets had struck, but Jason kept shooting. The warehouse floor collected spent casings like fallen leaves, marking time in brass and lead.

  Jason checked his watch, rolling his shoulders. The night had dragged on, and Harvey's stubbornness was starting to get old. He holstered his gun and walked closer to the dangling figure.

  "You know what, Harvey? I'm getting bored of this game," he circled beneath Two-Face. "Maybe we should try something new."

  Two-Face lifted his blood-streaked face. "What... what are you talking about?"

  "Well," Jason pulled out a knife and examined the rope. "I'm thinking about letting gravity do the work. That concrete floor looks pretty hard from up here."

  "You're bluffing," Harvey said. "Batman's code—"

  "How many times do I have to spell it out? I'm not Batman," Jason sawed at the rope, letting a few strands snap. "And his code? Died with me in that warehouse."

  "Wait!" Two-Face thrashed as more rope strands frayed. "You can't—"

  "Can't what? Drop you? Watch your skull crack open?" Another strand snapped. "Because I'm pretty sure I can."

  "You psychotic piece of shit!"

  "Tick tock. Running out of rope here," Jason cut another strand. "Last chance to tell me who hired you."

  "Go fuck yourself!"

  Jason shrugged and sliced deeper. The rope groaned under the strain. "Have it your way. Hope you learned to fly like Superman—"

  "Stop! Jesus Christ, stop!" Two-Face's composure shattered. "I don't know who it was! I swear to God, I don't know!"

  "Bull."

  "It's the truth! He transferred the money through offshore accounts. Five million up front, five more on completion. I never saw his face, never got a name. Just instructions through encrypted messages."

  Jason paused, studying Harvey's face – both sides. For once, the criminal's fear looked genuine. "You expect me to believe that?"

  "It's all I know! I swear on my money, on everything – I don't know who they are!"

  Jason twirled the knife between his fingers, watching Harvey's blood drip onto the concrete below. "Not good enough. I need more than 'some guy paid me.' Give me something I can work with."

  "That's all I know! What do you want from me?" Two-Face shouted.

  "Details, Harvey. Every little thing you remember. What did his voice sound like? Did he have an accent? Any quirks?"

  "Never heard his voice. Everything was through text messages. But..." Harvey licked his split lip. "It was a man. Had to be. The way he wrote, how he gave orders - definitely male."

  "What kind of orders?"

  "Just the basics. Which chemicals to use, where to set up the lab, when to trigger the contamination, like a freaking instruction manual," Two-Face shifted in his bonds, wincing. "Called himself 'The Owl.' Pretentious prick."

  Jason's grip tightened on the knife. "Motives?"

  "Didn't share his life story with me," Harvey spat. "He paid, I followed instructions. That's business."

  "Some business. Could've killed thousands."

  "Like I give a shit. Money's money," Two-Face laughed, then coughed up blood. "That's all I know. The Owl, the instructions, the payment. Nothing else. So either kill me or cut me down."

  Jason studied him for a moment, then sheathed his knife. The Owl. It wasn't much, but it was a start. At least he had something to work with now, even if Harvey was holding back. And if Two-Face was lying about any of it, well - there'd be time for another chat later.

  He stepped back, letting Harvey sway in the warehouse light. "Hang in there, Harv. GCPD should be here soon to cut you down."

  "Fuck you!"

  "Yeah, yeah," Jason tapped his comm. "Oracle, you catch all that?"

  "Every word," Barbara's voice crackled through. "But Jason, the Court of Owls? We dealt with them years ago. Bruce dismantled their operation."

  She had a point about the Court of Owls - Batman had torn that organization down to its foundations years ago. But someone was using their name, their symbol. A copycat made sense, but that raised more questions than answers. The old Court had been Gotham's elite, generations of wealth and power. This felt different. Whoever this "Owl" was, they weren't playing by the old rules. And that made them unpredictable.

  "Different owl maybe?" Jason paced beneath Two-Face's dangling form. "Could be someone using their name, trying to build street cred."

  "Or it could be a coincidence. Not every owl reference leads back to the Court."

  "In Gotham? Nothing's a coincidence," Jason kicked an empty shell casing. "Call it in to GCPD. Let them handle clean-up while I dig deeper."

  "Already done. Units are five minutes out," Barbara paused. "Just be careful. If this is connected to the Court somehow..."

  "Then I'll handle it. Like I handled Harvey here."

  "That's what I'm worried about. Your methods—"

  "Got results," Jason cut her off. "Send me everything you can find on recent big-money transfers. Offshore accounts, shell companies, anything that could lead to our mystery owl."

  "I'll start digging. And Jason? Try not to shoot anyone else tonight."

  "No promises, Barbie. No promises," he clicked off the comm and gave Two-Face one last look. "Been fun. Let's do it again sometime."

  Two-Face's only response was a string of curses that reverberated through the warehouse as Jason slipped away into the night.

  The thought nagged at him as police sirens wailed in the distance. Owls. Always the owls. If this was the Court's work and not some two-bit copycat, he'd need Bruce's help to burn their operation to ash.

  Last time hadn't been enough - hadn't even come close. The Court of Owls had roots deeper than anyone realized, and taking them down would require more than just rubber bullets and interrogations.

  But if they were back, plotting their revenge on Gotham... Jason shook his head. No point spinning theories without proof. First, he needed evidence. Then he could figure out if this was the real Court or just another criminal using their name. Either way, someone was going to bleed.