The conference room of the Orpheus Jewelry Exhibition Hall was quiet, but the tension inside it was thick enough to suffocate.
Seated around the long table were several important figures: Commissioner Gordon, Captain Brock from the Major Crimes Unit, Director Orff of the exhibition hall, and Miss Kernell, an official representative of the Smithsonian Museum.
At the center of the discussion lay a single problem—
the Hope Blue Diamond.
Commissioner Gordon folded his hands on the table, his face stern and weary. Gotham had seen too many disasters that started exactly like this.
"I'll say it one more time," Gordon said gravely.
"Exhibiting the Hope Blue Diamond in Gotham will attract more than just one master thief. Any small mistake could result in its loss."
He fixed his gaze on Miss Kernell.
"Given the situation, are you absolutely sure the Smithsonian has no intention of canceling the Gotham exhibition?"
Miss Kernell listened patiently. When Gordon finished, she offered a calm, professional smile—neither arrogant nor submissive.
"I understand your concern, Commissioner," she replied evenly.
"But the decision to exhibit the Hope Blue Diamond was made after careful consideration. We anticipated the risks from the very beginning."
She paused, then added firmly,
"The exhibition will proceed as scheduled."
For a brief moment, silence filled the room.
Miss Kernell continued, her tone confident.
"Furthermore, the Smithsonian has full confidence in the Gotham City Police Department. We believe GCPD is capable of protecting the Hope Blue Diamond."
The words echoed strangely in the room.
In Gotham, statements like that almost sounded like dark humor.
Even Commissioner Gordon briefly wondered if he had misheard.
But regardless of how unreliable Gotham's reputation might be, the Smithsonian representative was openly expressing trust in the police. That made things… awkward.
After all, the police couldn't very well say, Actually, you're wrong—we can't protect it.
Anyone else could doubt the GCPD.
The GCPD could not doubt itself—at least not publicly.
Gordon let out a slow breath.
"GCPD will do everything in its power to ensure the safety of the Hope Blue Diamond."
It was the only answer he could give.
With that, the discussion moved on to security layouts, patrol schedules, emergency response plans, and coordination protocols. Every detail was dissected and rechecked.
When the meeting finally concluded, everyone rose from their seats.
Commissioner Gordon and Brock hurried back to the police station to make preparations. Miss Kernell also excused herself—she needed to report back to the Smithsonian.
However…
One person left without drawing any attention.
A staff member from the Orpheus Jewelry Exhibition Hall quietly slipped away.
---
A Thief in Plain Sight
Several streets away from the exhibition hall, the staff member stopped in a deserted alley.
He glanced around, confirming there were no witnesses.
Then, in one smooth motion, he peeled the mask from his face.
The disguise fell away, revealing sharp eyes filled with calculation.
Dean.
He changed out of the staff uniform, his thoughts racing.
"So I'm not the only one," he muttered.
During the earlier inspection, he had sensed it—
another master of disguise, someone just as skilled as he was, lurking within the exhibition hall.
"A colleague?" Dean mused. "Or a rival?"
Either way, it meant trouble.
This job was already dangerous enough.
The GCPD would be fully mobilized. Robin was almost guaranteed to show up. Batgirl might also intervene after their last encounter.
And now—
another professional thief was waiting in the shadows.
As if that wasn't enough, the exhibition itself felt… wrong. Too much attention. Too many players. Too clean.
Dean rubbed his chin, his expression growing serious.
"There might be someone pulling the strings behind all this."
If so, this was no ordinary heist.
"This plan needs to be flawless," he concluded.
"I'll need to think ten steps ahead."
With that, Dean disappeared into the night.
---
Arkham Asylum – A Mind of Riddles
Night deepened over Gotham.
Inside Arkham Asylum, iron doors clanged shut as Ignatius Ogilvy walked under the watchful eyes of two armed guards.
He entered the visiting room.
The man waiting for him sat calmly, fingers interlaced, green eyes sharp with intelligence and madness.
Edward Nygma.
The Riddler looked up.
"And who might you be?" he asked coolly.
"Ignatius Ogilvy," the man replied with a respectful bow.
"Though that name likely means nothing to you."
He added politely,
"I am Mr. Cobblepot's secretary."
The temperature in the room dropped instantly.
The Riddler's expression hardened.
"What does Oswald mean by this?" he snapped.
"Sending a lackey instead of coming himself?"
Ogilvy remained calm.
"You misunderstand, Mr. Nygma. The boss holds you in great regard."
He explained evenly,
"Mr. Cobblepot is currently overseeing a large-scale gang war. He simply cannot spare the time."
Then Ogilvy added quietly,
"And… he hasn't forgotten your last mistake."
The Riddler's eyes narrowed.
"Mistake?"
"What mistake?"
"You were asked to decipher Kaito Kid's Notice Letter," Ogilvy said.
The Riddler frowned deeply.
"You're saying my interpretation was wrong?"
Ogilvy nodded.
When the flaw was explained—when Nygma realized the trick involving the broadcast—
His restraint shattered.
"What a joke!" the Riddler roared.
He slammed his fist on the table.
"That's cheating! He added a condition that only someone on site could know!"
His voice trembled with fury.
"Riddles aren't meant to work like that! Kaito Kid is defiling riddles!"
He stood abruptly, pacing like a furious child.
"I must have been insane to think his puzzles were clever!"
Then, with venom in his voice—
"I'm going to kill Kaito Kid."
The guards tensed, but Ogilvy remained unfazed.
After the outburst subsided, Ogilvy spoke calmly.
"Kaito Kid has issued a new Notice Letter," he said.
"The boss asked me to seek your help once more."
He leaned closer and whispered,
"If your deduction is correct this time, Mr. Cobblepot is willing to help you escape Arkham."
That got the Riddler's attention.
Ogilvy slid a paper across the table.
---
The New Notice Letter
> The first day the emperor holds his scepter,
The wheel of fate turns two full cycles,
The magician with silver wings answers the high priestess's call,
Descending upon the pinnacle,
To admire that exquisite blue hope.
— Kaito Kid
The Riddler read it once.
Then scoffed.
"That's it?"
He looked genuinely insulted.
"This is barely a riddle."
Compared to the last Notice Letter, which—despite its cheating—was at least clever, this one was painfully simple.
To the Riddler, it was like an elementary puzzle pretending to be genius.
"It's as if he thinks people are idiots," Nygma sneered.
"Or worse—he thinks I am."
He leaned back, disgusted.
"And Cobblepot couldn't figure this out himself?" he added mockingly.
"Years of ruling Gotham have clearly dulled his mind."
Still, after a moment, the Riddler sighed.
"For old times' sake," he muttered,
"I'll explain it."
His eyes gleamed.
The game had begun.
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