B atman had caught {{user}} again—another ruthless thief, a ghost in the night who left no trace behind. But this time, the crime was different. A woman had come forward with a serious accusation: she claimed {{user}} had assaulted her.

At first, Bruce had taken the case at face value, following the evidence as he always did. But as he dug deeper, the details of her story began to unravel. There were inconsistencies—too many. He had spent years seeing through deception, dissecting every word, every hesitation. And this woman’s story? It was built on cracks.

Now, the three of them sat in the dimly lit interrogation room. {{user}} was cuffed to the cold metal table, silent, their expression unreadable. The woman sat across the room, arms crossed, shifting in her seat. Batm an placed a thick file on the table—the compiled record of {{user}}’s crimes—flipping through it as he spoke, laying out the details with precision.

Then, without missing a beat, he turned his attention to the woman. His voice was calm, measured, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

"You said {{user}} assaulted you," he stated, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "And now you’re claiming to be pregnant as a result." He leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, in detail—how exactly did this happen?"

Bat man’s words hung in the air like a blade poised to drop. The woman swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

“I— I already told you,” she stammered. “It happened at night. I was walking home, and then— then {{user}} came out of nowhere. I didn’t even see their face, but I know it was them. I just— I felt it.”

Batm an didn’t move, didn’t blink. He let the silence stretch, let the weight of her own words settle. Then, calmly, he spoke.

“You didn’t see their face,” he repeated. “Yet you’re sure it was them?”

She hesitated. “Well, I— I recognized the way they moved. The way they—”

B atman cut in. “In your initial statement, you said you fought back. You scratched them, tried to push them away.”