After exchanging contact info with Tony, he flew off in the direction of Metropolis.
Dante shook his head. He really hoped the guy would give up on Louise Lane before he pissed off that Kansas farm boy.
No offense, but if that guy got mad? Stark's fancy armor wouldn't last a frame.
"Tony Stark disappeared from public view for a while. So that's what he was working on."
"What? You feel threatened, Mr. Billionaire Playboy?" Dante teased.
"Batman replied flatly. "Not interested. Unless…"
"Unless you meet someone you can't beat?"
Batman didn't answer, just sighed.
Dante smirked. "I was baiting you, y'know. I basically just said I know who you are. And you didn't even blink."
"You already hinted at it during our first call."
"True."
The two stood side by side, silently surveying the carnage Stark had left in his wake outside Arkham Asylum.
Behind them, Ada Wong and Harley Quinn—who'd overheard their little heart-to-heart—were slack-jawed.
"Wait… Batman is Bruce Wayne!?"
"I've known Bruce Wayne for at least ten years!" Ada blinked. "And never once suspected. Damn. My crazy-meter's way behind his."
Seeing the post-battle cleanup nearing completion, Dante casually pointed at the Joker's corpse lying by Ada's feet.
"Batman. You take this sack of crazy with you."
"Me? Are you sure?"
"Who else? The FBI isn't gonna care about a corpse. Yeah, I know he'll probably resurrect, but try explaining that to accounting. At least you'll keep him locked up permanently." Dante grinned. "Consider it a friendly gesture, dear Mr. Bruce Wayne."
---
When they touched down again, they were already back on U.S. soil—Washington D.C., to be exact.
As they stepped into the hangar, Agents all around began glancing their way. Some subtly. Some not-so-subtly.
"Uh… why's everyone staring at you two? Is this, workplace bullying?" Harley tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. "Do your coworkers not like you or something?"
"Please." Dante deadpanned. "You do realize they're looking at you, right?"
Harley blinked again.
To be fair, she had zero self-awareness. With chemically-bleached skin and twin-toned hair—bright red and blue—she was impossible to ignore.
Even if someone didn't recognize her as the Joker's former lover, she still looked like a cross between a pop idol and a lab accident.
Also, FBI Agents? Not as cool as you think. Most of them worked in data entry and had never seen action outside of a print jam.
Just then, a tall woman jogged over.
"Agent! I'm Grade 4 Agent Ingrid Hunnigan. From now on, I'll be responsible for logistical support for the 'Star Team'!"
"Looking forward to working with you, Agent Hunnigan," Dante replied, shaking her hand. "Just to clarify… this Star Team thing—you mean us, right?"
"Yes. Director Fury confirmed the codename ten minutes ago."
"Tch. That's one casual naming convention."
"Please follow me. The Director is waiting for you in the Strategic Analysis Room."
Led by Agent Hunnigan, they ascended to the familiar thirty-first floor.
Fury stood with his back to them, naturally.
But the moment the door opened, he turned around.
His face remained unreadable—but Dante immediately sensed the tension behind that poker face.
"Harley Quinn," Fury said coolly. "You've caused quite the mess. Still, we can clear your record."
"Tsk tsk tsk… still the same strict Teacher Fury, I see." Harley didn't seem the least bit nervous. She hopped up on a desk like she owned the place, grinning wildly.
"If I'd really been that strict, I wouldn't have approved your application to Arkham Asylum in the first place."
"And now I am one of the lunatics I was assigned to study, huh?" she giggled.
"That's fine. Normal people can't do what we do."
Fury waved her off and turned to Dante.
"You handled things well. But wasn't that commotion a bit excessive?"
"You mean shooting the Joker in the head? Or unveiling your secret weapon?" Dante raised an eyebrow. "If it's the former, I have no regrets. If it's the latter… c'mon. How long do you think Stark can keep a secret? A week? Tops?"
"I'm talking about Batman getting involved."
"What, you thought he was just going to hang from a cave ceiling while the FBI waltzed into his turf?"
That one actually shut Fury up.
"…In any case, you've adapted faster than I expected. Once Harleen Quinzel passes her psych evaluation, you'll officially start."
Harley's smile flickered.
"I'm only Harley Quinn now. Harleen Quinzel is just a piece of the puzzle."
"As long as you're fine with that," Fury said, not missing a beat. Then he turned toward Ada. "Agent Ada Wong, get her a change of clothes. That patient gown from Arkham is not FBI issue."
"Yes, Director."
Ada nodded and began nudging Harley toward the exit.
"I'm not wearing a uniform!" Harley protested loudly.
As the two women passed Dante, the air got weirdly competitive.
Ada brushed her fingertips lightly against Dante's knuckles.
Harley didn't miss a beat—she leaned close and whispered just loud enough for him to hear:
"See you later… my Pudding."
Dante's spine stiffened.
Oh no.
She wasn't cured. She'd just… transferred her obsession.
Which, honestly, he should've expected the moment he encouraged her to shoot Joker's corpse.
After the two women left, Dante wiped the sweat off his brow—only to look up and see Fury sighing deeply.
He almost burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"Every family has its problems. Being a dad ain't easy."
"Instead of mocking your superior, how about you give your mission report?"
"Actually," Dante said, stepping closer, lowering his voice, "I do have something I need to talk to you about. Off the record."
Fury narrowed his eye.
"I need to know… how many people like Stark do you really know? Or rather—how many more are there?"
Blunt? Maybe. But Dante needed stronger abilities. Even with the Dionysus Factor, he couldn't stay stagnant.
"That's not something a Level 7 Agent needs to know."
"If you really want me to do this job right, then ditch the D.C. bureaucracy. I'm not here to follow rules. And clearly, neither is this team—considering our first recruit was literally a patient from Arkham Asylum."
Fury gave a long pause, then nodded.
"I was right about you. You were born for this."
He turned back to his console.
"I'll send you the authorization code later. You're dismissed, Agent."
"Cool, cool. I'll let you brood in peace, then."
Dante was halfway out the door when he suddenly paused and turned back.
"Oh right. What exactly is Harley Quinn to you?"
Fury's eye narrowed instantly, his glare sharp enough to cut glass.
No words—just a look that screamed:
Don't. Ask.
Dante shrugged and exited without pushing further.
Only after the room was completely empty did Fury murmur to himself:
"Harley Quinn is the closest thing to a daughter I've ever had."
(To be continued.)