At night, Gotham was still shrouded in dark clouds, and the oppressive sky blanketed the entire city.
Yet, even in such a somber atmosphere, the city involuntarily stirred with waves of activity. Lively chatter echoed through the streets and alleys like the tide, transmitting from one place to another in a contagious rhythm.
The cause, of course, was Bruce's sudden public announcent—declaring himself as Batman.
Within the span of just ten hours, from day to night, newspapers were strewn across every street. Almost every press outlet scrambled to print headlines, plastering Bruce's face alongside Batman's.
The city was once again plunged into a new wave of turmoil and unease—whether it was the Gotham City governnt, the police departnt, civilians, or criminal organizations, all were caught in a flurry of panic.
At this mont, inside the Gotham Building.
In a spacious conference room, a bright incandescent lamp overhead cast a stark light across the room, clearly illuminating every face.
More than thirty people had gathered in this grand conference room.
Seated around the dark oval table in the center were a few individuals who each controlled over five percent of Wayne Enterprises' shares—shareholders with voting rights, influence, and decision-making power. The rest were seated on either side—heads of various Gotham families.
Naturally, the majority of the shares remained in the hands of the Wayne family, which is why the family had always held authority over the company.
Bardi wore a form-fitting suit, his fra as solid as a mountain.
He stirred the wick of a rather retro-style aromatherapy oil lamp. The fla flared, and faint, invisible streams of scented smoke began to spread throughout the room. Nervous shareholders, so ready to raise questions, subconsciously began to relax.
"Chairman Bruce, aren't you going to give us an explanation?"
"If this is so kind of ga to you, then it's not amusing. Please quickly clarify your identity as Batman."
"We are all businessn, not so Dark Knight seeking justice."
"Please stop treating this like a joke."
The speaker was a thin, bespectacled middle-aged white man seated off to the side. After he spoke, the others began murmuring as well—most of them shareholders not seated at the main table.
Even so, everyone in this room, regardless of where they sat, was a multi-millionaire or billionaire—figures far beyond the reach of ordinary people.
To them, Bruce's actions had seriously jeopardized their interests.
They could not predict what direction Wayne Enterprises would take after this revelation.
What happened to Batman was irrelevant to them.
They were businessn, and only cared about profit.
"Bruce, if you can't give a satisfactory explanation, then please step down as Chairman of Wayne Enterprises."
The final voice ca from an elderly man seated at the main table. With white hair, deep wrinkles, and a cane in hand, he held a significant share of Wayne Enterprises. He was also the head of one of Gotham's four great families, the Kane family. In Bardi's mory, this family had once produced a notable figure: Batwoman.
Many others in the room nodded silently in agreent.
This was a matter of their interests. There was no way they would let soone play around like this.
Previously, with Alfred handling company decisions capably in Bruce's absence, everything had run smoothly. But now, after being shocked by Bardi's sudden revelation, they had nearly been frightened out of their wits.
Bardi gently fanned the aromatic vapor toward his face with his hand. The scent entered his nose, causing him to squint slightly and close his eyes.
This ergency-use hypnotic gas had once been derived from Scarecrow's fear toxin. Bardi had stripped it of its fear-inducing components, reformulated it using the massive knowledge database in his mind, and infused it into the aromatherapy. Combined with Bruce's non-superpowered human body and the Chin Emperor's understanding of human psychology and physiology, it was enough to hypnotize many of Wayne Enterprises' shareholders and implant subtle psychological suggestions.
Bardi turned around, his eyes as deep as ocean whirlpools. He glanced over each shareholder one by one and spoke.
"How many of you here are from the Court of Owls?"
As his eyes swept across the room, carefully observing every reaction.
At that mont, nearly 90% of the attendees showed a faint shift in expression. Though they quickly composed themselves, internally their breathing quickened, their blood circulation sped up, and the scent of the aromatherapy infiltrated deeper through their nostrils.
"I was joking."
Bardi suddenly laughed and pulled out his chair, sitting down with a playful look in his eyes.
Those who had been montarily startled breathed a sigh of relief. And in that brief mont between tension and relief, their minds began to relax. Their consciousness started to blur—they were on the verge of being hypnotized by Bardi.
"What's the Court of Owls?"
"What kind of underground organization is that?"
"You can't just say whatever you want."
Those truly part of the Court of Owls nearly relaxed visibly. They exchanged glances from the corners of their eyes. Even those not affiliated with the Court began to show signs of ntal dullness.
Suddenly—
Just as no one was ntally prepared,
Bardi, seated, slamd the table with force.
Boom...
A low thud echoed across the dark oval table. It was like a soundwave resonating in their heads, triggering a drowsy sensation.
In the next mont, everyone fell into a trance, like soone trying to stay awake after being abruptly pulled from sleep.
"Tomorrow night, summon the entire Court of Owls."
"Inside Wayne Enterprises, in the hidden chamber of the Court of Owls."
Bardi's expression was calm. His eyes were deep, mysterious, and captivating, drawing the gaze of all the dazed shareholders.
He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the dark oval table. The polished surface reflected the chandelier above. His fingers played like a soft piano lody, evoking the gentle sound of ocean waves or wind brushing through grass.
Snap.
Suddenly, Bardi snapped his fingers.
"Wayne Enterprises is fine. I already have a comprehensive plan—I just haven't had a chance to share it."
"The day after tomorrow, I'll present a detailed proposal. It's an opportunity for us to deepen cooperation with the governnt and expand our business."
"Please look forward to it. Wayne Enterprises won't let anyone down."
Bardi stood up and addressed the room, making eye contact with each shareholder courteously.
And all the shareholders, as if nothing had happened, seed to blink and return to normal. They heard Bruce's reply as if nothing in between had occurred.
Despite so lingering concerns, Wayne Enterprises was still Wayne Enterprises. With no better options, they could only wait for the chairman's plan the day after tomorrow.
Bardi stepped out of the conference room first.
At the door, Alfred stood in his usual upright posture, like a quintessential English butler.
Seeing Bardi erge, Alfred fell in step beside him, pulling a tablet from behind his back and speaking.
"Master, based on the clues you provided, it's probable—maybe even certain—we've found the Joker."
(To be continued.)
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