CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: UNSEEN BLADES

The shipment was scheduled to arrive just past midnight. A barge, unmarked except for its rusted hull, slipped into Tricorner Yards under cover of darkness. It wasn’t the first weapons drop in Gotham’s ongoing war, but it was the first solid lead Taylor had to finding the Calculator.  

From her vantage point on a loading crane, she watched as armed men moved between shipping containers, securing the dock. Penguin’s enforcers—heavily armed, disciplined. Opposite them, another group—more armoured, faster, moving with a grace that set them apart. The League of Shadows.  

Taylor tensed. The League’s presence changed everything.  

Beside her, Spoiler shifted slightly. “Alright, so—new problem,” she murmured through their comms. “Penguin’s guys, no surprise. But those other ones? I don’t love how they move.”  

Taylor had noticed. The League wasn’t just here to guard a shipment. They were observing, watching everyone—including Penguin’s men.  

She exhaled. This wasn’t just about weapons. It was about control.  

And somewhere in all this, the Calculator was watching it unfold.  

“We’re going in,” Taylor said.  

The first strike was silent. A thrown baton to the back of an enforcer’s skull, dropping him before he could react. The second was brutal—a quick sweep of Taylor’s leg taking another man down, Spoiler following up with a swift kick.  

Then the alarm sounded.  

Gunfire erupted as the dock workers panicked, scrambling for cover. Penguin’s men swung around, opening fire, but they weren’t prepared for the sudden, overwhelming force Taylor and Spoiler brought. They moved through the pandemonium with precision—Taylor weaving between containers, striking hard and vanishing before the enemy could adjust. Spoiler was right behind her, using the confusion to her advantage.  

Then, the League moved.  

No gunfire—just steel flashing under the dock’s floodlights. A Penguin enforcer dropped, a throwing knife buried in his shoulder. Another barely had time to react before a shadow descended on him, striking with deadly intent.  

Taylor saw it all in an instant. The League wasn’t here for the weapons. They were here to clean up. To eliminate the loose ends.  

And to test her.  

One of them stepped forward, distinct from the others. His stance was fluid yet his movements seemed controlled. Not just an assassin—an observer.  

And then he attacked.  

Taylor barely dodged the first strike, a blade passing inches from her ribs. She countered, striking toward his midsection, but he flowed around the attack like water. No wasted movement. No hesitation.  

He wasn’t trying to kill her. He was measuring her. Testing her. The League of Shadows didn’t waste time on weaklings. If she could hold her own, she might be worth their attention.  

Spoiler fought nearby, handling her own opponent with sharp, efficient blows. But Taylor was locked in now, forced to keep up with a fighter unlike any she had faced before. The assassin’s strikes were relentless, forcing her back, testing her defenses.  

A feint. A flicker of movement toward her left side, forcing her weight onto the wrong foot. The real attack came from the right—she barely twisted away in time, the edge of his blade slicing a shallow line through her jacket. Too close.  

She had to shift tactics. Reacting wasn’t enough; she needed to dictate the fight. Stepping into his space, she used his own momentum against him, targeting his joints and balance instead of trading blows. He blocked her next strike with his forearm, the impact jolting through her bones, but she caught the flicker of recognition in his eyes. He knew what she was doing. And he adapted.  

The tempo shifted. He moved faster, pressing harder, forcing her to fight at a level she hadn’t reached before. Every strike had a purpose, calculated, boxing her into smaller and smaller spaces. A lesser fighter would have been overwhelmed by now. But Taylor wasn’t just keeping up—she was learning.  

Then—an opening. He overextended, just slightly. Taylor seized the moment, driving her elbow into his ribs and following up with a ruthless kick to his knee. He stumbled—only for a second. But when he straightened, she saw it in his eyes.  

Approval.  

Then he stepped back, fading into the shadows.  

Taylor didn’t chase him. She turned, taking in the dock—Penguin’s forces routed, the shipment in ruins. Spoiler stood nearby, breathing hard, a knife in her hand that hadn’t been there before.  

“They left,” she said, scanning the shadows. “That’s not creepy at all.”  

Every crate so far had been unmarked—plain, featureless wood and metal, indistinguishable from any other shipment moving through Gotham’s underworld. But not these.

The crates were marked with an unfamiliar insignia, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. 

A small, metal tablet lay among the scattered cargo. She picked it up, the screen flickering to life. A set of coordinates. A time. A message.  

Come if you dare. 

Spoiler leaned over her shoulder. “That’s not ominous or anything.”  

Taylor clenched her jaw. This wasn’t just a lead. It was an invitation. A challenge.

The Calculator knew she was interfering. Knew she’d find this. And instead of shutting her out, he was calling her in.

Which meant he was confident. Or he wanted to see what she’d do next.

Her fingers tightened around the tablet. The League of Shadows played their games from the shadows. The Calculator played his behind a screen. But Taylor?

She played to win.