[Western Crossover] Case Files of a Magical Batkid

Story Status: Volume Four Complete Blurb Two: The lights in the interrogation room flickered. The stone-faced police officer stared at the refined, well-mannered suspect across from him, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "Let me sum this up again." "You don't know this girl. You've never seen her before." "Yes, Officer." "You came here as a tourist and arrived just yesterday." "Yes, Officer." The officer took a deep breath. His patience had reached its limit. Gritting his teeth, he asked, "You don't know her, this is your first time here, and you have no idea what happened. You just inexplicably turned up at this girl's body-dumping site, covered in her blood. Is that what you're saying?" The curve of Wilbur's mouth didn't change at all. "You're truly brilliant, Officer. I really don't know anything." The police chief stormed out of the interrogation room. Wilbur sat in his chair, looking at the handcuffs on his wrists. He thought helplessly, These days, nobody believes the truth anymore. The world has gone to the dogs. Blurb One: Alfred, the respected and responsible man who single-handedly raised one lord and a whole bunch of young masters, the top of Gotham's food chain, Gotham's uncrowned king, master of Wayne family sweet treats, and the one who started the ban on cooking in the Wayne kitchen, declares: Wilbur was the hardest of all the young masters to raise. From the moment he was born, he would wail at all hours for no reason, driving every nanny away. At two, he made a premium, cold-chain-air-freighted PRIME-grade steak take root and sprout on the chandelier. Alfred had to dismantle the chandelier, which was as old as the manor. At seven, when he first met his biological father, the child saw the filthy, beggar-version of the Prince of Gotham who had just come home and cried until he fainted. He cried himself into the ICU and scared every adult present half to death. One day when he was thirteen, he suddenly blew up his own room and ended up in the ER again. His adopted older brother, who had settled down in the neighboring town, drove back to Gotham overnight and got a $2,500 speeding ticket, making an already tight financial situation even worse. At seventeen, he ran away from home and never came back. At twenty-one, Wilbur finally had a chance to sever the source of every conspiracy that had plagued him since birth. It failed. His memories were completely restored, and he opened his eyes with a brand-new brain, only to see a ghost. Wilbur: Fuck. * Content warnings: My own take on the timeline, with lots of original headcanons. This isn't a cheerful, everyday Batfamily story. It's a serious drama, and there will be angst. Villain fans are advised not to read, especially Joker fans. A crossover with Criminal Minds, Supernatural, and some Batfamily works. I pick and choose the settings I need, with a huge number of original headcanons. It includes many original cases. The DC and Supernatural worldviews of Heaven and Hell mostly follow Supernatural, with original headcanons. This is my first story, and I'm a beginner. If you drop it, please don't tell me QAQ Upcoming story: Gotham Ambitions of a Meteor City Native Age 0. You die, then come back to life as a little capitalist brat. Age 1. Your vision has developed enough for you to start observing the people around you and the place where you were born. The couple holding you are around the same age and clearly love each other. The room looks expensive, but there are no traitors' specimens hanging on the walls, no enemies' heads in the entryway, and the furnishings include porcelain, oil paintings, and family photos rather than strange human organs. Good. At least the couple aren't collectors of human body parts. Age 2. A young boy keeps showing up around you, trying to amuse you. Sick of it, you start pretending to be asleep every time he appears. Age 3. Your birthplace in this life is so different from the one in your previous life that you feel no attachment to your new identity or family. You have no interest in or reaction to anything around you. The couple are worried and take you to the hospital. You hate white coats and the smell of disinfectant and want to leave as soon as possible, so you start screaming the moment you enter the doctor's office. The doctor thinks you have congenital autism. Your mother covers her mouth and cries. You feel a little sorry. Age 4. Because of your autism, your parents devote a great deal of time and energy to you. Even the little boy starts trying to look after you. Being cared for by a child is a little embarrassing, so this year you say more than you did in the previous three years combined. They are relieved. The boy has had what could be called a hard year, so your parents decide to take him to the cinema alone. Only the boy comes back. You blink, go to the living room, lift the blanket draped over the boy, and throw yourself into his arms. At last, the boy breaks down crying. Age 14. The person who murdered your parents all those years ago is released from prison. Fourteen is just the right age. You're independent enough to persuade the butler to let you go out alone, but not yet old enough to bear full criminal responsibility. With Wayne Enterprises' excellent legal team behind you, you have a good chance of getting away with it. You scout the location and prepare a full change of clothes and an appropriate weapon. You show up right on time as the murderer walks out of the prison gates. You run into your older brother. You look at the guns in each other's hands, then go home together as if nothing happened. The incident seems to hit your brother hard. That night, he tells you there are many things he can't figure out, and decides to embark on a round-the-world trip with no set return date. You think that's fine, so you nod and watch him leave Gotham, promising not to deal with the murderer before he gets back. Age 21. Your brother comes home. Delighted, you prepare to dump Wayne Enterprises back in his lap and start enjoying your extravagant life as a rich person. Your brother refuses to let you pass the buck and explains his ideals to you. That day, Marlene says to Bruce, "I understand you, Bruce, but this isn't how you make people afraid. You're holding back too much." Restraint won't make people afraid. You can't scare the truly evil ones. Only revenge without rules, without limits, and without regard for the consequences, a mutual-destruction-style vengeance, can truly make them tremble. I know that very well. Your brother is horrified and permanently locks you out of the Batcomputer. Premise: No matter the circumstances, you have to keep living well