Univrsal Marchant :MCU /Arrowverse

Chapter 6: The Dark Knight's Shadow and the Gadget Guru

My next jump was to Gotham. Not the Gotham TV show Gotham, with its delightfully unhinged villains and questionable police ethics, but the main Arrowverse/DCEU-adjacent Gotham. I aimed for a point in time when Bruce was already established as Batman, but perhaps still early in his career, before the Justice League was a thing. A time when he was still a lone wolf, relying heavily on his intellect and gadgets. My goal wasn't to fight crime with him, not yet. It was to gain access to that legendary Bat-brain.

I focused, picturing the gothic architecture, the perpetual twilight, the faint, metallic tang of… well, Gotham. The familiar sensation of shifting realities, and then, a landing that was slightly less graceful than usual. I stumbled, catching myself on a grimy brick wall.

I was in an alley. Of course, I was in an alley. This was Gotham. It would have been weirder if I'd landed in a Starbucks. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and something vaguely unsettling. Sirens wailed in the distance, a constant, mournful lullaby.

"Right. Gotham. The city where even the pigeons look like they've seen too much. Time to find the Bat. And try not to get myself mistaken for a new supervillain. Or a particularly well-dressed mugging victim."

I used my Assassin's Stealth, moving like a shadow, blending into the deeper pockets of darkness. My Tactical Acumen immediately started mapping out the alleyways, the escape routes, the potential ambush points. It was like my brain had suddenly installed a "Gotham Survival Guide" app.

I found him, eventually. Not in a dramatic rooftop confrontation, but in the quiet, almost mundane act of staking out a warehouse. Batman. A dark silhouette against the grimy skyline, perched on a gargoyle, utterly still. He was a legend, a myth, and right now, he looked like a very expensive, very brooding statue.

"Okay, Adam. This is tricky. He's not going to respond to Pop-Tarts. He'd probably analyze the nutritional content, declare them a threat to public health, and then invent a Batarang that specifically targets sugar cravings."

I decided to observe first, to get a feel for his current operation. He was watching a group of armed thugs loading crates into a truck. Standard Gotham fare. My Tactical Acumen immediately highlighted a flaw in their security, a blind spot in the alley to the left.

I couldn't resist. I moved, a whisper in the shadows, using my Basic Super-Speed in short bursts to get into position. I didn't interfere with the thugs directly. Instead, I subtly disabled a security camera that was about to swing into Batman's view, then nudged a loose dumpster just enough to create a small, distracting clatter on the other side of the alley. Nothing major. Just enough to give him an opening, a slight advantage he wouldn't have had.

Batman moved. A blur of black, a silent takedown. Efficient. Brutal. Exactly what I expected. He was good. Really good.

As the last thug crumpled, Batman paused. His head tilted, almost imperceptibly. He knew something had happened. Something had helped. He scanned the shadows, his white lenses piercing the darkness.

"Uh oh. He's looking. Act natural, Adam. Like a perfectly normal guy who just happened to be lurking in a crime-ridden alley at 2 AM. You know, for… research."

I stepped out of the deepest shadow, hands up, a slightly sheepish grin. "Evening, Caped Crusader. Or is it Dark Knight? I always get the marketing slogans mixed up. Great work, by the way. Very… impactful."

Batman's head snapped towards me. He was fast. Faster than Barry, in a different way. Pure, honed physical prowess. He was in front of me in a blink, a silent, terrifying force of nature. His cape billowed. His eyes, even behind the white lenses, felt like they were drilling into my soul.

"Who are you?" His voice was a low, gravelly growl, like a throat full of broken glass and bad intentions. It definitely wasn't the voice from the movies. More… real. More tired.

"Adam Stiels," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "And before you start with the 'I'm Batman' routine, let's just say I'm well aware of your nocturnal activities. And your preference for black. Very slimming."

His eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, you know, I have friends in… interesting places," I said, trying for vague. "And I've been following your work. Impressive. Though, if I'm being honest, that blind spot on the left of the warehouse? Rookie mistake. Good thing I was here to… adjust the camera for you."

That did it. His posture tensed further. This wasn't a random civilian. This was someone who knew too much. And that, to Bruce Wayne, was a red flag the size of a bat signal.

"You interfered," he stated, his voice dangerously low.

"Interfered? I assisted," I corrected, trying to inject some levity. "Think of it as a helpful nudge. A cosmic assist. Like when Alfred leaves you a warm cup of tea after a particularly brutal night. Speaking of Alfred, how's he doing? Still making those amazing scones?"

His eyes went wide. A barely perceptible flicker of surprise. Alfred. That was a name only a select few knew. And scones? That was a very personal detail.

"Nailed it! Or… completely screwed it up. He's either going to trust me now, or he's going to tie me to a gargoyle and interrogate me for a week. Probably the latter. I really should have thought this through."

He took a step closer, his presence utterly intimidating. "Who. Are. You."

"Okay, okay, calm down, Caped Crusader," I sighed. "Look, I'm not a villain. I'm not a meta. I'm not even from this Earth, technically. I'm… a broker. For unique assets. And I need to make a… conceptual transaction with you. Specifically, your brain."

He recoiled slightly. "My brain?"

"Not literally!" I quickly clarified. "More like… your genius. Your ability to invent, to innovate, to build incredible gadgets out of thin air. I'm looking for a 'Blueprint of Advanced Engineering.' A conceptual understanding of how you do what you do."

A new voice, calm and analytical, spoke directly in my head.

INITIATING BROKERAGE PROTOCOL. TARGET: BRUCE WAYNE. RESOURCE: ADVANCED ENGINEERING KNOWLEDGE. OFFERED: BLUEPRINT OF ADVANCED ENGINEERING. COST: UNDERSTANDING OF STRATEGIC DISCRETION.

"Oh, great. The System's going to make me learn how to shut my mouth. This is going to be painful."

"A conceptual understanding?" Bruce repeated, his suspicion warring with a flicker of intellectual curiosity. He was a scientist at heart, even if he dressed like a giant bat.

"Exactly," I said. "It's not a skill I can just… take. It's a shared understanding. A deep, intuitive grasp of how to design and implement cutting-edge tech. Think of it as downloading a master's degree in Bat-tech directly into my brain. Which, frankly, would save me years of late-night coding and questionable caffeine habits."

He stared at me, unblinking. His mind, I could almost feel it, was racing, analyzing every word, every nuance. He was trying to find the angle, the trick.

"And what's the catch?" he finally asked. "What do I lose?"

"You don't lose anything, directly," I explained, remembering the System's internal prompt. "But the 'cost' on my end, the thing I gain an understanding of, is… 'Strategic Discretion of Information Release.' Basically, knowing when to keep my big mouth shut. Especially around highly intelligent, highly paranoid individuals who might tie me to a gargoyle if I reveal too much." I gave him a pointed look.

He actually… almost smiled. A flicker of something akin to amusement crossed his face, quickly suppressed.

"You're… unusual, Adam Stiels," he said, his voice still a low growl, but with less menace. "Very unusual."

He turned, looking back at the now-secured warehouse. He knew he'd been subtly helped. He knew I knew things. And the idea of someone else having a similar, if conceptual, grasp of his engineering principles… it was a risk, but also, potentially, an asset. A new variable.

ACCEPTANCE OF BROKERAGE CONFIRMED. COST PAID: UNDERSTANDING OF STRATEGIC DISCRETION. BLUEPRINT OF ADVANCED ENGINEERING ACQUIRED. TP AWARDED: HIGH.

A sudden, overwhelming flood of information hit me. Not just facts, but concepts. The underlying principles of nanotechnology, the subtle energy fluctuations of quantum computing, the elegant simplicity of a perfectly designed circuit. My mind raced, designing, innovating, building theoretical gadgets in my head at light speed. It was like I'd just plugged into the world's most advanced tech library and downloaded the entire thing. My fingers twitched, itching to build something. Anything. A better toaster. A self-cleaning Bat-suit.

"Holy cow. I'm basically Tony Stark now. Without the billions, the ego, or the questionable facial hair. But still! I could build a better Iron Man suit. Or at least fix my old laptop without watching a YouTube tutorial."

I looked at Batman, who was now grappling up to the rooftop. He paused, looking back down at me.

"Don't interfere again," he rumbled, his voice a warning. But there was something else there, too. A grudging acknowledgment.

"No promises, Bats," I called up, grinning. "But I'll try to be more… discreet. And if you ever need a new gadget designed, or a better way to organize your Bat-cave, you know who to call. I'm thinking a self-folding cape. Very practical."

He didn't respond, just disappeared into the night. But I knew. I had made a connection. A wary one, but a connection nonetheless. And I had a whole new set of conceptual blueprints buzzing in my brain.