AN: Yes, to quote DJ Khaled: And another one! XD

Like my last fic, there was supposed to be more written here but I felt that what I had planned was probably going to be substantially long and that this would be a decent introduction. So you can expect an update for this later.

Don't worry, this is will the last of my line of new fics (for now) and from here, I'll be updating my current stories.

Batman and all related characters are owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. Batman is created by Bill Finger and Bob Kane.

Street Fighter, Dead or Alive and Tekken related characters are owned by CAPCOM, Koei Tecmo Games and Bandai Namco Entertainment respectively.

CHAPTER 01: Prologue

After letting out another sigh while pinching the bridge of his nose, Commissioner Gordon returned his gaze back to the interrogation room through the two-way mirror.

Inside was Detective Crispus Allen trying to reason with their suspect whom Gordon could only describe as a Hell's Angel wannabe. The gruff-looking man in question was quite burly with thick muscles and sported a brown beard, blonde-dyed hair that was slicked back and wore a pair of shades. The rest of his outfit was typical biker fare which went hand in hand with his attitude. Gordon had been listening to the guy's yelling and arguing for hours in a voice that had a slight Yosemite Sam quality to it.

Needless to say, the man was just plain uncooperative and was constantly looking for a fight. In fact, he managed to piss Bullock off and they had to drag the detective out of the room before the two of them got into a slug-fest.

However, they did manage to find out his name and record from his fingerprints.

Gordon flipped through the folder in his hands.

"Let's see here, drunk and disorderly, minor assault, property damage and resisting arrest. Certainly sounds like a resume for a typical biker with a 'badass-complex'."

The younger detective next to him, Flannery, peered at the open file and his eyes lit up in realization.

"That name...I knew I recognized him from somewhere! Don't you know who he is, Commish?"

Gordon turned to Flannery with a raised questioning brow.

"No idea. Mind sharing?"

"Bass Armstrong! Y'know? The pro wrestler? Former heavyweight champion and one of the toughest men to set foot inside the squared circle?"

"You a wrestling fan, Flannery?"

"Errm, well, no sir. I just follow his fights through the Dead of Alive Tournament."

Gordon turned his attention back to the two-way mirror, where he could see and hear Bass still being stubborn with Allen.

"I've heard of it. Not that I follow it or anything, just know it's some circus show sponsored by DOATEC. But what's a guy like that doing here in Gotham?"

The arguing inside the interrogation room escalated to the point where Gordon could hear Bass's bellowing, barely muffled by the room's sound proofing.

"I'm ain't telling any of you jack shit! None of this would've happened if y'all hadn't wrecked my girl!"

The Commissioner rubbed his forehead with annoyance. The 'girl' that Bass was talking about was actually his motorcycle that got accidentally damaged when the GCPD attempted to arrest him.

"Okay I've heard enough." Gordon declared. "It's time to bring in the big gun."

With a finger pressed to a button, Gordon called out Allen using the interrogation room's intercom.

"Allen, could you step outside for a moment please?"

Crispus let out a tired breath, gathered all the papers from the table and got up to leave.

"Guess I'll be leaving you to your thoughts now." he said sardonically.

Bass responded by flipping him off.

"Yeah well fuck off, pig!" he growled.

Allen ignored him and left him alone in the room. From there, Bass folded his thick arms and waited while grumbling. He was expecting someone to enter the room but surprisingly, no one did. Minute after minute passed as he rapidly tapped his foot with impatience before he snapped.

"Hey! How long you pigs gonna keep me here!? I got places ta be!"

He waited but there was just silence in the room with no sign that anyone entering.

"Ya'll really starting to piss me off now!" he seethed with grit teeth.

After another minute of waiting, he finally had enough and rose from his seat.

"Screw this! I'm outta here!"

But suddenly, he was taken by surprise when something spun past from behind him and embedded itself on top of the desk. It was bladed like a shuriken and was shaped like a bat.

"Sit down, Mister Armstrong." growled a voice behind him.

Bass whipped around to see a sight he didn't expect, a well built figure clad in black and gray armor with the shadows of the room smeared on him. He at first thought it was one the weirdos he encountered in the DOATEC tournaments but then he took notice of the scalloped black cape, the emblem on his chest and of course, the black cowl that covered the upper half of his face that had pointed 'ears' on his head and glaring angular white eyes.

"Eh? Who're you supposed to be?" Bass blurted out in shock.

The burly biker gawked for a moment before realization clicked in his mind and he reacted with an accusing point of his finger.

"Wait, you're that Bat-freak folks 'round this town are talkin' about, ain't cha?"

Batman's stony expression didn't waver and neither did his glare. Bass wasn't least bit intimidated and marched up to his face with challenging aggression, like how he used to square off with his opponents in ring.

"Well whatever! I ain't doing a thing you say! Now, you getting out of my way? Or do you want me to wipe the floor with yer face?" growled Bass.

And of course, Batman didn't back down nor did he seem affected by Bass's threats.

The former wrestler continued to stare him down until he then slowly began to walk away towards in the interrogation table, seemingly to abandon their conflict before he suddenly grabbed the table and hauled it over his head.

"Suit yerself!" he yelled before throwing it at the Dark Knight.

Batman nonchalantly sidestepped away from the table but the biker immediately came after him with a folded chair, swinging it at him with ferocity and yet each swing was also evaded.

From the other side of the two-way mirror, Allen was about rush inside to break up the fight but Gordon held him back with a hand on his shoulder and shook his head; he trusted that the Dark Knight knew what he was doing. Flannery on the other hand was enjoying the show.

"Hold still, ya ninja freak!" Bass grunted as he took another swing at him.

Batman easily swerved out of the way with his cape trailing from him like a reaper's cloak. Growling with barred teeth, Bass lifted the folded chair back up but before it made its way over his head, Batman delivered a harsh kick at the flat metal; effectively smashing the chair against Bass's face.

Bass yelled out as he dropped the chair, staggering back while his hands flew to nurse his face and that was when the vigilante took the advantage and launched a punch at the burly man's stomach. This made Bass hunch forward with a gasp and allowed Batman to strike his chin with an uppercut that knocked the shades from his head before grabbing his arm and throwing him hard against the wall.

The burly biker slid down from the wall with his head and shoulders to the, letting out a raspy dazed groan.

"I don't like wasting my time with roughnecks like you." stated Batman as he approached the downed man. "Under any other circumstances, I would've just let men like you be."

The Dark Knight then took out a photo from his utility belt, a crime scene photo.

"But you crossed the line when you decided to commit murder in my city!" he growled as he dropped the photo near Bass's head.

What he said snapped Bass out of his daze and the biker's eyes popped wide open in shock.

"Whoa!" Bass called out.

He then scrambled himself upright on his knees and frantically waved his palms out in denial.

"Whoa! Whoa! WHOA! Nobody said nuthin 'bout murder!"

"So you're saying you had nothing to do with this?"

"No! Not a damn thing!"

"I'd advise against lying to me, Armstrong." Batman warned with narrowed eyes and grit teeth.

"It's the truth! I ain't killed nobody!"

Batman scoffed.

"Nobody, huh?"

The Caped Crusader bent down and grabbed Bass by his jacket's lapel while pointing down with his other hand.

"That 'nobody's' name is Philippe Gaston Hawkins! But you know him better as Wolf Hawkins*, don't you!?"

Bass's jaw dropped agape in shock and then glanced down towards the photo. It showed a muscular man with long red hair tied in a ponytail, there were multiple stab wounds scattered all over his bare body.

Batman released him and stood up, Leaving Bass on all fours looking down at the photo in disbelief.

"Let me lay it down for you..." Batman began to speak.

"During your old wrestling career, the two of you had a heated feud both in and out the ring, so bad that you even publicly threatened physical violence on him if you saw him again."

He heard Bass make a sheepish gulping sound, confirming what he said.

"And now, years later, on this night, eye witnesses placed the two of you brawling in a bar which continued outside. And on top of that, the murder weapon was found with you with your prints on it."

Bass looked up at him to see the brows of his cowl scrunch with the white eyes underneath boring at him with uncompromising judgment.

"I don't think you need me to tell you how bad this looks for you."

"Okay, look..." Bass spoke. "It's no secret I hated the guy's guts but not enough ta kill him. Ya gotta believe me!"

The former wrestler dropped his gaze back to the photo.

"I-it-it's a damn conspiracy, I tell ya! We were jus talkin' and then the lights went out and then these guys show up and...and..."

He trailed off in a state of confusion.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" suggested Batman. "And don't leave anything out."

Slowly but surely, the burly biker pushed himself back on his rump with his arms resting on his propped knees before finally letting out a defeated sigh.

"Alright..."

With resignation, he took something out from his pocket and held it out. It was a folded photograph.

"I'm lookin' for my daughter." said Bass.

Batman took the photograph and unfolded it. He internally admitted that he was a little surprised, he had honestly been expecting a picture of a little girl, the type who's eyes were full of innocence that the cruelty of this city preys upon.

Instead, the person in the photo is one most might call a 'certifiable bombshell'. An attractive young woman with short shoulder length blonde hair that curtained over the sides of her face, sapphire colored eyes and pink full lips. She posed with a peace sign and a wink and was only wearing a string bikini which highlighted her toned body and large bust.

Batman assumed that she must've been a model or at least aspiring to be.

"Her name is Tina." Bass continued to speak. "Recently, she decided to get back into the wrestling biz and got booked in this new Promotion called the FDW."

The subject of today's Pro Wrestling wasn't something Batman was totally versed in but he would later find out that 'FDW' stood for 'Final Destination Wrestling'.

It was fairly new but it had already become an industry giant boasting high TV ratings, sold out events and a roster of fan-favorite talents drawn from various platforms. He never paid much attention to it but he did recall seeing some of his 'family-members' watching it from time to time when they visited the Manor.

"At first I thought 'Great!' the girl's finally got her head straight. Wrestling's in her blood after all! But then...I got a call a few weeks ago, someone tellin' me that Tina's life's in real danger and then hangs up."

"Who made the call?" asked Batman.

"No idea. It was a girl's voice, didn't recognize her but she sounded worried."

Bass lingered with a troubled expression for a moment before continuing.

"But still, I thought it was just some sick joke. That was until I took a closer look at FDW. There's something real shady about these guys; they've only been around for 'bout two years but they blew up real quick, became a real monopoly. Word's goin' around that they've been sewing up arenas and forcing out independent promos, hired muscle and all. Real gangster type shit. But that ain't even the freaky part."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been lookin' at their matches. See, I've been in the game long enough to know that ya don't pull off moves like that and NOT get busted up real bad! Ya think half their roster would go on hiatus after sufferin' injuries like that but No, they're back in the ring the next day like nuthin happened!"

"That shouldn't be possible." Batman mused.

Bass gave huge toothy grin and jabbed a thumb to his chest in pride.

"Uh huh, they thought they could pull wool over everyone's eyes but not me! 'Can't make an Ass outta the Bass' is what I say!"

The biker gave a hearty laugh which soon fizzled out as he noticed the costumed vigilante looking at him with an unchanged steely expression.

"Errm...Anyhoo..." Bass coughed awkwardly and continued. "After I found out that they moved their venue here in Gotham, I headed all the way here and found their main office."

"Let me guess, you barged right in?" asked Batman.

"Damn straight I did!" Bass exclaimed with pride. "I demanded to know where Tina was and to see the guy in charge of their outfit and ya know what they did?"

"They kicked you out?"

"You bet yer caped ass they did! But it was on my way out when I saw him, Wolf Hawkins."

At this point, Bass's brow furrowed and tone turned sombre.

"I hadn't seen Wolf in years and as much as I didn't want to meet the guy, I knew he was my best bet to find Tina. So, I waited and then tailed him to a local watering hole where he was drinking somethin' fierce. Ya don't drink that much and not have freight load of trouble on your mind."

"That's when you got into a bar fight with him?"

"I was jus tryin' to knock some sense into 'im, That's all!" said Bass defensively.

The biker then grinned with a sense of nostalgia.

"It was a hell of a fight tho, takes me way back. It took some roughin' up and bleeding but I finally got him to talk."

And then his features fell again, turning very serious.

"I gotta say, Wolf was a lot of things but he was never a coward and...he looked spooked, I mean REAL spooked!"

"What did he say?"

It was outside on an alleyway connected to the bar where their tussle began. Funnily enough it had ended with the two of them, bloodied and bruised, sitting on the pavement up against the brick wall where they shot the breeze like old friends catching up.

"I know too much, Bass. It'll only be a matter of time before they send those things after me."

Bass's eyebrows shot up, this was far from what he was expecting Wolf to say.

"Whoa, slow down. Whadaya taking about, man? What's goin on in that company?" asked Bass.

Bass looked on in confusion as his old rival chuckled cynically.

"Company?" Wolf laughed with contempt. "It's not a company, it's a damn crop field and they're harvesting us!"

"What?"

"I've heard stories since coming here in Gotham. I didn't believe of word it, thought it was just some Jersey Devil type shit. But then some of the boys started disappearing after their contracts expired. We hear that they were going home or off touring in some part of the world and if you check with their families, you'll find out that they heard something else."

Bass could only watch as the muscular man hung and shook his head despondently, shadows cast from the above street lamp obscuring his eyes.

"Those stories I heard...it's true. It's all fucking true. And they're fucking everywhere!" Wolf muttered with a strained voice.

The sight made Bass turn towards him aggressively with one knee propped up.

"Get a hold of yourself! Yer not making sense! Who's everywhere?"

And as if right on cue, the street lamps around them flickered out.

Both Bass and Wolf stood upright on their guard as they heard movement all around them, all the darkness allowed them to see were shadowy silhouettes.

"Wolf Hawkins..." a voice called out.

The two men looked up to see more shadowy figures highlighted by the glowing moon, perched at the edges of the buildings like hunting birds.

"You have been sentenced to die."

And from the darkness behind Wolf, arms and hands shot out, one clamping of his mouth while the others restrained his arms before pulling him out of sight.

"WOLF!" Bass called out as he spun around.

The biker immediately put up his dukes and spun around a few times, hoping to get a glimpse of their attackers.

"Come on out where I can see ya, you sneaky bastards!" he barked.

From his peripheral vision, he saw one of the silhouettes rush towards him. He swung a fist at it only to meet air as the figure seemingly vanished. And then he felt a sharp prick at the side of his neck, prompting him to swerve and attack behind him but again, there was nothing.

And then sure enough, his vision grew hazy, senses dulled, motor functions unsteady and weak. Weaker and weaker until he fell to his knees with drawn out groan and flopped to the ground.

"Gawd, I...hate...ninjas..." he slurred before passing out.

The interrogation room was thick with silence after Bass finished his story, with Batman standing and observing him as the biker hung his head with a furrowed brow.

"There's something I don't quite understand, Mister Armstrong..." Batman broke the silence before asking.

"Why didn't you just contact Tina directly?"

Bass looked up with surprise before his face took on a different expression as he awkwardly scratched the side of his head, it was one of guilt.

"Tina and I...well, we had a fight…a real nasty one. When she left...it, um, it wasn't exactly the nicest of goodbyes."

He shuffled a bit and was quiet for a short moment before he suddenly exclaimed defensively.

"She just doesn't understand! She's got all these funny ideas in her head and I was just tryin' to..."

His voice trailed off and no matter much he tried to defend or justify himself, it all faded away and he slumped back in a state of misery.

"Aw, who am I kidding?...I messed up." he uttered sadly.

The Dark Knight saw it all come apart. Gone was Bass Armstrong: Former Heavyweight Champion, gone was the toughest person to set foot in the ring, the badass biker and overall tough guy.

All was left was Bass Armstrong: a worried father.

"Batman...I'm beggin' you. Find my baby girl, make sure she's safe."

"You have my word." Batman responded without hesitation and then left the interrogation room.

Outside, Gordon and the two detectives waited in anticipation to see if Batman was going to say anything but the Caped Crusader simply strolled past them and left the room. Gordon followed and shot both Allen and Flannery a certain look before he exited. It was one of those 'looks' that the Department was well aware of, some of them knew it as the 'This is between the Commish and the Bat' look, others just interpreted it as meaning that is was going to be one of THOSE cases.

Gordon found him where he expected him to be: on the roof, near the edge with the lit signal behind him.

"Well?" Gordon asked. "What did you think of his story? Way too tall of a tale of you ask me but on the other hand, I can't help but feel for the guy. I don't know what I'd do if someone told me Barbara was in danger."

Batman swallowed the ironic sense of guilt he felt before asking a question.

"Have you run a tox screen on the victim, Jim?"

"No. Why?"

"I took a sample of Hawkins' blood and did my own analysis. Aside from his blood-achohol levels, I found traces of an organometallic compound consisting of a chemical structure similar to Venom."

Gordon lit a cigarette and puffed.

"You think Bane is involved somehow?"

"Doubt it, he's locked up in Arkham. But there was something else in that compound."

"What?"

Batman remained quiet for almost a minute before responding.

"I'm not sure."

Gordon frowned. He worked with the Dark Knight long enough to know the tell tale signs when he was hiding something.

"One more thing, Jim. Was the victim missing any teeth?"

"A couple, actually. Central and lateral incisors and his third molar."

Batman 'hmed' to himself and then looked back.

"For now, keep Armstrong in custody and look into this wrestling company he was talking about. I'll keep you posted."

That was all he said before he fired a grappling line and swung away, leaving Gordon to be convinced that something was on the Batman's mind.

Something was indeed on his mind.

Batman was seated in Batmobile with the autopilot activated as the computer display was projected on the right side of the windshield. On it was the chemical structural formula he had analyzed earlier.

Like he told to Gordon, it was organometallic with similarities to Venom. Probably because it was like a combination of two separate compounds, with one part being Venom.

The other part was something he had hoped to never see again: a type of Electrum.

A major reason why he analyzed the victim's blood had to do with what he had discovered near the bar where Bass and Wolf had their fight.

He brought it up to the projected display, it was a fake wisdom tooth designed like the ones from that case but unlike those, this one didn't have the an emblem.

"Could it really be them?" Batman wondered.

He thought they were defeated years ago but there was certainly evidence to back up the idea that they've reemerged, especially with what Bass said about these wrestlers never going on hiatus.

Batman mulled over this. The Court was dangerous and if they were involved, his usual investigative methods may not be the best way to get to the bottom of this. Perhaps he would need to take a different approach...a more subtle approach.

"Alfred..." he addressed after opening a Comm-link to the cave.

"Could you set up an appointment for Bruce Wayne tomorrow?"

TBC

AN:

*Reference to Wolf Hawkfield from 'Virtua Fighter' because the fighting game nerd in me couldn't resist.