DC: I Became A Godfather

Calendar Man was rattled, and Adam wasn't about to waste the opening. He kept his focus locked on the villain's face, reading every flicker of emotion like a page in a book.

'Now,' Adam thought. He moved fast, closing the gap in two silent steps—barely a meter away.

At the same time, he shot a sharp glance at the kidnapped girl, tilting his head ever so slightly. Gotham's kids were quick studies; they had to be. She understood instantly. Without hesitation, she lunged forward and sank her teeth into the back of Calendar Man's hand, biting down with the fury of a cornered animal.

The man screamed. "What the hell! Let go, you brat!" His voice cracked with rage, but it was too late.

Gotham had a way of shaping people. Even its children were born that way.

No wonder that when Darkseid's demons invaded years later, Gotham's citizens didn't cower, they rolled up their sleeves and fought back. Even this girl, no older than twelve, fought like she'd been trained for this moment.

Calendar Man's realization came too late. "Wait… this timing—"

Adam struck like a coiled spring. His boot smashed into the man's jaw with a brutal crack.

BANG!

The gun went off. Calendar Man fired on reflex, the bullet screaming past Adam's ear close enough to sting his skin with powder burn. But Adam's kick had disrupted his aim just enough to save him. He hit the ground and rolled, adrenaline tearing through his veins.

Outside, the shot sent the police into chaos.

"Gunfire! Move in!" Chief Gordon's voice roared from behind the barricade. "Special operations team, breach now! Medical units on standby—we might have a man down!"

Without waiting, Gordon himself charged forward in hurry as he thought, 'Adam, damn you… don't you dare die on me.'

Adam barely registered the chaos outside. He landed hard, but used the momentum of his kick to knock Calendar Man's gun away with another strike. The weapon clattered across the floor, leaving the two of them standing face to face—bare hands now.

"You think you're clever, huh?" Calendar Man spat blood, glaring. "Don't get too cocky. I don't need a gun to break you in half. I'm better than Bruce Wayne ever was."

Adam raised an eyebrow, his stance low and ready. Better than Bruce? He didn't waste his breath arguing.

Calendar Man lunged first, his punch fast and heavy—a streetfighter's blow, enough to break ribs if it landed. Adam didn't flinch. He slid just enough to hook Calendar's arm and twist, letting the man's own weight carry him forward. A sharp pivot, a clean throw—Calendar Man hit the ground hard, the impact echoing through the room.

"What—?" Calendar Man was stunned, not just by the pain but by the shock of being thrown by this detective he'd underestimated.

Adam didn't give him time to recover. He pressed down with his full weight, locking Calendar Man's arm in a brutal hold. A twist more, and the bone would snap like dry wood.

"You really thought I can't fight?" Adam's breath came heavy, his voice low and dangerous. "Guess again."

He wasn't a martial artist, but Deadshot's training had left its mark. Grappling, precision, economy of motion—every move had purpose. And right now, every ounce of Adam's focus was on keeping this psycho pinned.

With his free hand, Adam hooked Calendar Man's fallen gun, sliding it across the floor with his boot before snatching it up. He pressed the muzzle against Calendar's temple.

"For the trash in this city," Adam said, his voice like iron, "one less of you means one step closer to peace. I'm not Batman. I don't do mercy."

Calendar Man stared up at him, expression unreadable. There was no fear, just cold contempt.

Outside, footsteps thundered closer. The SWAT team was seconds away from breaching.

Adam's finger tightened on the trigger.

Click.

Nothing.

"What—?" Adam pulled the trigger again. Click. Click. No sparks, no recoil.

Calendar Man's lips curled into a twisted smile.

"I told you," he hissed, "tonight's sacrifice must be pure and innocent. I have no place for your blood in my ritual."

The sound of boots and splintering wood cut him off. Gordon burst in with the tactical team, his eyes widening as he saw Adam holding a gun to Calendar Man's head.

"Stop! Adam—stand down!" Gordon barked, his voice sharp, almost panicked.