He's insane.

That man is absolutely insane!

That was the one thought flashing through both Emily and Parker's minds at the same time.

Not just them—even Gordon and the wounded officers lying on the ground were stunned by Alex's declaration.

Even after being thoroughly beaten by him moments ago—even after witnessing his terrifying power—they still almost burst out laughing.

> "He won't allow crime in Gotham?"

Who did he think he was?

What kind of international joke was that supposed to be?

The entire Gotham Police Department couldn't do that. The city government couldn't do that.

It was madness—pure, unfiltered insanity.

But to Emily, that didn't matter in the slightest.

Whether Alex was sane or not was irrelevant.

What mattered was that this man had just handed her a story so outrageous, so explosive, that it could shake the entire city.

She knew that once this broadcast aired, Gotham would erupt.

And with it, her career.

A crazy story for a crazy city.

"Homelander? Is that your alias?" Emily steadied herself and continued the interview, her professional instincts taking over. "Like Batman's name, perhaps? Does it have any special meaning—something connected to your crusade against crime?"

"Stop! Stop this madness right now!"

Gordon groaned, forcing himself upright with visible pain. Gritting his teeth, he tried to stagger toward Emily, waving a hand in protest.

But Alex turned his head slightly—just a glance.

Then he raised one hand.

Bang!

A ripple of invisible force hit Gordon squarely in the chest, throwing him back down to the ground like he'd been struck by an unseen hammer.

"What the hell—?"

"He didn't even touch him!"

Emily and Parker froze in place, eyes wide.

Telekinesis? Psychic force? Whatever it was—they were witnessing something far beyond reason.

Still, Gordon's collapse had a silver lining: with the cops incapacitated, the interview could go uninterrupted.

Emily didn't hesitate. She pushed forward, microphone in hand, diving deeper into her coverage.

---

> "I, Homelander, will not allow crime in Gotham."

"Until now, I didn't care. But from the moment I've spoken these words—anyone who commits a crime will be seen as defying me."

"They…"

Alex pointed toward the corpses at his feet.

"…are what defiance looks like."

---

There was no question about it.

Alex exploded into fame—overnight.

A man who, just hours before, had been an unknown name—suddenly became the most talked-about person in Gotham.

When people saw his broadcast—his calm eyes, his chillingly confident words—everyone was stunned.

> "He's insane."

That was everyone's first reaction.

Gotham was no stranger to lunatics—but this? This was something new.

Even for a city built on madness, this was a different breed of crazy.

Of course, few people actually believed what they saw.

Sure, the report claimed Homelander had killed over twenty drug dealers and single-handedly taken down a squad of cops—but that had to be exaggerated, right?

People always rationalize what they can't understand.

Most decided it was just an elaborate hoax.

A performance.

A staged "superhero act" by some self-absorbed showman.

If only the GCPD had spoken publicly—if Gordon and his men had confirmed what happened—perhaps the world would've believed.

But they didn't.

They refused.

To them, it was humiliation.

No one in the Gotham Police Department wanted to admit they'd been destroyed by one man.

So silence became their shield—and that silence made Alex look like a clown.

---

> "Homelander? Please. Just another attention-seeker."

"Gotham TV must be desperate for ratings if they're broadcasting crap like this."

"If he wanted fame, he got it. Congratulations to the city's newest nutcase."

"I'll give him three days—tops. The psychos in this city will tear him apart before the week's over."

"Three days? You're too generous. I bet his corpse turns up tomorrow."

Homelander.

The name spread like wildfire across Gotham's streets.

Everywhere, people were talking about him—mocking, jeering, speculating.

Almost everyone treated him as a joke.

Almost.

There were a few exceptions.

---

"Homelander, huh?"

Inside a luxury apartment, Selina Kyle—the infamous Catwoman—had just stepped out of the shower. Steam still clung to her bare shoulders as she towel-dried her hair, eyes fixed on the flickering TV screen.

Alex's face filled the frame, calm and terrifyingly self-assured.

Even she froze for a moment.

She'd seen a lot in Gotham—but never this.

"This man's serious…" she whispered.

Unlike most, she knew firsthand what Alex was capable of.

She'd seen a glimpse—just a glimpse—of his power.

He could fly.

He could move faster than the eye could follow.

He could control things with invisible force.

Monster.

That was the only word that fit.

Compared to him, the rest of Gotham's "freaks" were small-time.

If Alex truly decided to kill someone, Selina couldn't imagine who could possibly escape.

Twenty dead gangsters and a dozen defeated cops? Others dismissed it as fake—but she believed it.

With his power, such things weren't even impressive.

"If he's not joking," she murmured, her voice barely audible, "then Gotham's about to change forever."

---

"Homelander? He's a lunatic."

At Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne lay on a hospital bed, still bandaged from his last encounter with Alex.

He knew exactly why the man had suddenly declared war on Gotham's criminals.

Because of him.

Because of a bet—his careless words:

> "Unless Gotham has no more crime."

He'd never meant it.

He'd never imagined Alex would take it literally.

But now he had.

He was acting on it.

"He's really doing it," Bruce muttered, shaking his head. "He's actually declaring war on the entire city."

Crazy.

Completely, utterly crazy.

Yes, Bruce had seen Alex's power—enough to know he was dangerous. But Gotham wasn't simple.

"You're going to get yourself killed," he whispered. "And you're going to make this city worse before you die."

He sighed heavily.

"This is going to be a nightmare… thanks to you."

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