Batman stood in the middle of the training grounds, surrounded by whispers.
"No way… that guy just beat Garrick?"
"How did a no-name outsider pull that off?"
"Tch. Maybe it was just luck."
He ignored them.
They could doubt all they wanted.
It didn’t matter.
---
The New Reality.
Special Combat Division A wasn’t like the other csses.
Here, respect wasn’t given—it was taken.
And after what happened in the arena?
He was on everyone’s radar now.
---
The Next Day.
Batman was in his dorm, analyzing everything he had seen so far.
Strength, speed, technique...
These people are different from regur cadets. They're built for war.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
A visitor?
He opened the door.
"Morning, newbie."
It was Cyrille.
She leaned against the doorway, smiling.
"Mind if I come in?"
Batman narrowed his eyes.
"What do you want?"
Cyrille chuckled.
"Rex. I just wanted to talk."
"You’ve caught a lot of attention, y’know?"
"And not all of it is good."
---
Batman let her in, watching her carefully.
Cyrille sat on his desk, swinging her legs.
"So, listen. I like you."
"You’re strong. You’re interesting."
"But you also pissed off some really dangerous people."
Batman crossed his arms.
"Let me guess."
"Someone wants me dead?"
Cyrille grinned.
"Bingo."
She leaned forward.
"Ever heard of the Three Lords?"
Batman raised an eyebrow.
Cyrille continued.
"They’re the real monsters of Division A."
"Stronger than the instructors. Stronger than most teachers."
"And one of them—Drake Valtor—is really pissed off that you embarrassed Garrick."
Batman smirked.
"Good. Let him be pissed."
Cyrille ughed.
"I like your confidence."
"But be careful, newbie."
"You’ve stepped into a game of monsters."
"And Drake? He doesn’t py fair."
---
That night, Batman felt it.
A presence. Watching. Waiting.
They’re already making their move.
As he walked through the academy halls, the air felt... off.
Too quiet. Too still.
Then—
BOOM!
A wall exploded beside him.
Batman dodged—just in time.
Out of the smoke, three figures emerged.
"There he is."
"Drake wants him broken."
"Let’s make this quick."
They weren’t normal students.
They moved like ghosts.
Fast. Precise. Deadly.
Batman’s eyes narrowed.
No hesitation. No wasted movement.
They’ve killed before.
Then—they attacked.
Batman blocked the first strike, countering with a brutal elbow to the ribs.
The assassin stumbled back.
"Tch. Fast bastard."
The second one lunged with a dagger.
Batman sidestepped and drove his knee into the attacker’s stomach—folding him in half.
The third assassin tried to retreat.
Too te.
Batman’s foot smmed into his face.
CRACK.
One down.
Two down.
The st one hesitated.
"H-He’s a monster…"
Batman stepped forward.
"Tell Drake…"
"If he wants to kill me—"
His eyes glowed cold.
"—he better do it himself."
The assassin ran.
Batman exhaled.
So that’s how it is.
The moment he defeated Garrick, he was no longer just a new recruit.
I’m a threat.
And threats?
They get eliminated.
---
The next morning, Batman woke up to a letter.
A simple message.
Arena. Midnight. Come alone.
At the bottom—Drake Valtor’s signature.
Batman smirked.
"Finally."
"Let’s see how strong you really are." ---
