"Dare to investigate information about those men and spy on their movements?" Selina asked slowly. "Aren't you afraid that stirring the dark waters will attract sharks?"
After issuing the warning, she paused for a moment and glared at him with clear irritation.
"And besides," she added sharply, "don't you think you're overestimating the abilities of a thief?"
In her mind, the situation was absurd. She was used to stealing jewelry or sneaking into museums, but this stranger wanted her to dig into Gotham's most dangerous criminal empires.
That wasn't stealing.
That was suicide.
"Touching those people is like poking a tiger," Selina continued. "You might as well hand me a gun and tell me to assassinate the president. Honestly, the consequences of assassinating the president might be better."
David stood near the window, looking out at the busy street below where pedestrians hurried through the drizzle. He had changed into a crisp black suit that contrasted sharply with the gray city outside.
When he turned back, he smiled calmly at the young Catwoman sitting on the sofa.
"I believe you can do it."
Selina snorted.
"You're not an ordinary thief," David continued.
There were too many gang leaders in Gotham to track down individually. Compared to searching blindly, obtaining targeted intelligence would save enormous time.
"Absolutely not!"
The moment the conversation touched on risking her life, Selina refused without hesitation.
"I'd rather attract the attention of those monsters and get eaten alive than get caught by the police," she said firmly. "At worst I spend a few years in prison."
"Only a few years?"
David raised an eyebrow, his voice turning cold.
"Don't secretly shorten your sentence."
He leaned back slightly.
"Based on the total value of the items you've stolen, I'd estimate something closer to a hundred years."
Selina's targets weren't just jewelry.
Many of her thefts involved rare cultural relics and priceless artifacts. The combined value of those crimes would keep her locked away for a lifetime.
"No matter what," Selina replied stubbornly, "it's still better than dying."
After hearing his plan clearly, she stopped worrying about the threat entirely.
She stood up and walked toward the door with clear annoyance.
A single photograph might not even be enough to convict her. She simply didn't want unnecessary attention from the police.
And even if she went to prison—
She could escape.
Prisons rarely had better security than the museums she visited regularly. Breaking out wouldn't be impossible.
"Why don't you name a price?" David suggested.
"I'm not interested in money."
Selina dismissed the idea instantly.
Her hand reached for the doorknob.
Click.
A sharp whistling sound sliced through the air.
A small coin struck the brass doorknob like a shotgun pellet, shattering the metal mechanism instantly.
Selina froze.
The broken handle fell to the floor with a metallic clatter.
She turned slowly, her body stiffening like a startled cat whose fur had suddenly stood on end.
"What… what are you trying to do?"
Her posture shifted immediately into a defensive stance.
"How did you do that?" she demanded. "Did you just flick it with your fingers?"
Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed David calmly lowering his hand.
"You might not care about money," David said lightly, "but you probably like jewelry."
He stepped forward slowly.
"But there are some things you've probably never encountered before."
A mysterious smile appeared on his face.
"Back in my hometown," he began casually, "there's a cave where escaped slaves once hid more than a century ago. They secretly planted a strange herb brought from Africa."
"It's called Heart-Shaped Herb."
Selina blinked.
"Heart-shaped what?"
"After someone eats it," David explained calmly, "their physical abilities—strength, speed, endurance—reach the absolute limits of the human body."
Selina stared at him with obvious suspicion.
"Seriously?"
The story sounded completely ridiculous.
But at the same time—
Her gaze drifted briefly to the shattered doorknob.
And then to David.
If that herb didn't exist…
How could she explain his strength?
"So you're saying," Selina said slowly, "if I bring you the information you want…"
"You'll give me that Heart-Shaped Herb?"
Her tone remained cautious.
…
"Planning to go motocross racing again this time?"
On the thirteenth underground floor of Wayne Tower, Lucius Fox smiled when he saw Bruce Wayne enter the lab.
"By the way," Lucius added casually, "I saw the headlines this morning."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Bruce Wayne, long missing heir of the Wayne family, suddenly reappears at a Wayne Enterprises executive meeting."
Bruce smiled faintly.
Earlier that morning, William Earle had gathered the board of directors to discuss taking the company public. Bruce had walked in unexpectedly and interrupted the meeting without even saying much.
Several directors who had supported the proposal suddenly claimed they needed time to reconsider.
"Looks like Gotham hasn't completely forgotten me," Bruce said with a soft sigh.
Six years.
That was how long he had disappeared.
After the day he almost murdered Joe Chill in revenge, Bruce had left Gotham and traveled the world, learning countless skills and training himself beyond human limits.
Now he had finally returned.
"Your family helped build this city," Lucius said gently. "Gotham will never forget that."
Thinking of his old friend Thomas Wayne, the elderly scientist's expression softened slightly.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Bruce finally spoke seriously.
"Mr. Fox, I need to know something."
Lucius folded his arms.
"What's the excuse this time?"
He smiled knowingly.
"Mountain climbing? Cave exploration? Or maybe BASE jumping?"
Bruce coughed awkwardly.
The excuses he usually used to borrow experimental technology suddenly felt inadequate.
"Actually…"
Even with his intelligence, he struggled to explain why a billionaire playboy might need protection from laser weapons.
Lucius waved a hand.
"You don't have to tell me exactly what you're doing," he said kindly. "That way I won't have to lie when someone asks."
Bruce nodded silently.
They both understood the situation.
Some things didn't need to be spoken aloud.
Lucius led him toward a large container covered with a dusty curtain.
"There's something here you might find useful."
He pulled the curtain aside.
Inside the case lay a pair of black wristbands.
"Energy-absorbing wrist guards," Lucius explained as he lifted them carefully.
"They're made from superconducting composite materials. As light as carbon fiber, but tough enough to withstand blades."
He placed the wrist guard on a workbench and activated a small electric shock device.
Crack!
Electric energy flashed across the surface of the wrist guard.
The light vanished instantly.
Bruce leaned forward.
"Did it absorb the energy?"
"Exactly."
Lucius nodded.
"Can it absorb laser beams?" Bruce asked immediately.
"As long as it's energy-based, yes," Lucius replied.
He raised one finger.
"But there's a small problem."
Bruce waited.
"Once the absorption limit is reached," Lucius said seriously, "any additional energy will cause the device to explode."
Bruce frowned.
"How powerful is the explosion?"
Lucius shrugged slightly.
"Strong enough to penetrate the armor of a tank."
He looked at Bruce meaningfully.
"If someone is wearing it when that happens… well, let's just say the result won't be pretty."
"Then it's still unfinished," Bruce said quietly.
"Exactly."
"Why stop the research?"
Lucius sighed.
"Well, for one thing, most people don't expect to face Star Wars stormtroopers in their daily lives."
He spread his arms and gestured toward the nearly empty laboratory floor.
"And secondly… Wayne Enterprises' research division barely exists anymore."
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"Earle believes the company's existing technology will sustain profits for at least another decade," Lucius explained. "So he doesn't see the need to invest heavily in research."
He chuckled dryly.
"After all, the AK-47 has been around for decades and still sells well."
Bruce's expression darkened.
"AK-47?"
Lucius nodded slightly.
"Weapons development used to be just one part of Wayne Enterprises."
He paused.
"But over the past few years, that focus has shifted."
His voice lowered.
"Now arms manufacturing accounts for the majority of the company's income."
Bruce's jaw tightened.
"What?"
He had spent years traveling through war zones.
He had seen firsthand the devastation weapons could bring.
"How dare he do this in the name of Wayne."
Lucius nodded gravely.
"There's something else you should know."
"What is it?"
Lucius's expression turned serious.
"Recently, Wayne Enterprises lost track of a high-tech weapon developed for military use."
He looked directly at Bruce.
"And it's now missing."
....
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