Chapter 13 Forced Startup That damn Falcone. ...

Sorry, but wait a minute.

Am I really that righteous in my daily life? What does the word "hope" have to do with a supervillain like me who wants to destroy the multiverse? I'd rather say that to Bruce; he'd definitely love to hear it.

Thomas was uninterested in such things of light and justice; he was more suited to the survival rules of the dark side. But he still politely and perfunctorily replied to Gordon, "Great, if you have any problems, you can come to me for help."

Whether it's workplace bullying or dealing with a difficult criminal, Thomas can help.

Out of respect for Bruce, I'll help, but don't worry about the methods I use.

Gordon wasn't fooled: "So what are you planning to do now? The Romans aren't easy to deal with."

It wasn't that Gordon didn't want to help Thomas; he really wanted to put the Romans in jail, but that wasn't such a simple matter.

The Romans have connections throughout Gotham, even supporting the mayor. How can Thomas Wayne, a newly appointed chairman of Wayne Enterprises with an unstable foundation and merely a wealthy man, possibly contend with them?

"Why don't you leave Gotham and lay low for a while?"

This is not a long-term solution, but there is no better way.

“Wayne Group can’t do without me now,” Thomas said in a deep voice. “I’m planning to go and meet that old geezer Falcone.”

"This is dangerous..."

“He wants my money,” Thomas interrupted Gordon, “but he won’t just take my life, and my money is obviously more important than my life.”

Even if the Romans wanted Thomas's life, he couldn't take it away.

Of course, he couldn't take the money with him either.

Gordon sighed.

"I'll go with you."

Gordon has become a star detective over the years and has some connections with the Romans. If he accompanies Thomas, the Romans might give him some face.

If others heard Gordon's words, they would probably be moved to tears.

Unfortunately, sitting across from Gordon is Thomas, who just finds it troublesome.

“Thank you, but I can handle it myself.” Thomas stood up and opened the door for Gordon.

Anyone could tell at a glance that he was about to see the guests off.

Gordon rubbed his hair in distress: "Seriously, why are you just like your brother? You both like to go to dangerous places."

Thomas laughed and asked, "Really? What did Bruce do that you consider as dangerous as meeting Falcone? I thought he was a good kid."

A dangerous scent brushed against the back of Gordon's neck, and he shuddered, finally remembering Bruce's request not to tell Thomas that the two of them had investigated the truth about the Wayne couple's deaths together.

“Goodbye, Mr. Wayne.” Gordon pretended not to hear and casually said goodbye to Thomas. “Come see me if you change your mind.”

"goodbye."

Thomas then stood idly in front of the phone, waiting.

Sure enough, he waited a short while, the bell rang, and the real trouble began.

Bruce's voice came through the microphone: "Are you alright?"

Thomas knew without a doubt that Gordon must have told him.

“Not good.” Thomas looked at the freezer whose glass had been shattered by a gunshot and answered truthfully, “I won’t be able to drink iced Coke today, and room temperature Coke doesn’t taste as good as mineral water.”

"...I asked you how you are feeling."

"Fortunately, there are no signs of sudden death at present."

“You know perfectly well what I want to know.” Bruce’s voice held a hint of anger. “Thomas, a Falcone assassin with a gun is trying to kill you, and I, as his older brother, was the last to know!”

“You’re not the last one, Bruce. I’m not planning to inform Alfred yet.”

Bruce was puzzled as to why his usually sensible younger brother was suddenly behaving like such a jerk. He asked weakly, "Are you hurt?"

"Absolutely not, that assassin couldn't even hold a gun properly."

“Sheriff Gordon said you’re being watched by Falcone, and he told me to advise you not to go alone.”

Bruce's voice sounded somewhat agitated.

"The Romans are dangerous."

"I can handle this myself, don't worry."

It would be a real problem if I brought Gordon along. What could have been resolved with a few words would definitely turn into a gunfight with Gordon around.

Thomas could tell whether talking a few words or engaging in a gunfight was more convenient and faster.

Bruce seemed to have something on his mind, probably needing to catch a flight. He didn't say anything more, just hurriedly told Thomas, "If you run into trouble, tell me, and I'll rush back to Gotham immediately."

“Don’t come back, Bruce.” Thomas looked out at the clouds. “We all know Gotham isn’t a good place. This place is doomed.”

Bruce didn't say anything more, and Thomas suspected he wanted to argue.

But he didn't say anything.

After waiting for a while, Thomas could still only hear Bruce's breathing, and he suddenly lost his patience.

Goodbye, Bruce.

"……goodbye."

All I could hear was the busy signal.

For some reason, Thomas was in a very bad mood.

When Thomas is in a bad mood, he usually makes other people feel even worse.

-

So, you want me to give you a chance?

Falcone looked the somewhat haggard-looking young man up and down.

Thomas Wayne, dressed in a very loose and wrinkled black suit, was handcuffed and had a gun pointed at his temple from behind, his neck choked. He bowed his head respectfully, his eyes fixed on the ground, perfectly matching the image of the timid autistic boy in the rumors.

“If you want an opportunity, show me your sincerity,” the Roman tapped the table. “At this point, do you still need to pretend in front of me?”

Only a fool would believe that a cowardly minor could gain access to the Wayne Group in a month.

Falcone wasn't stupid; he was very clever.

After the deaths of the Wayne couple, the Wayne Group became a complex web of power, so much so that even the Romans could not easily control its top executives.

Thomas's rapid rise to power must have been due to more than just his large shareholding; there must have been other crucial reasons, and that's what Falcone wanted to know.

So he sent a low-level assassin to test Thomas. Anyone with a little skill wouldn't die. This person's purpose was simply to convey Falcone's dissatisfaction.

But he overlooked the extent to which this lowly hitman, who had to support his family, would twist his mission for the sake of his loved ones.

At least the Romans didn't intend to kill Thomas before they met him in person; there's generally no major conflict between the mob boss and the upper echelons of Gotham.

The greatest threat the Romans envisioned was perhaps cutting off Thomas's hand...

In Thomas's eyes, the Romans were already about to harm his brother.

“Great, that saves us all time.” Thomas’s response was somewhat perfunctory, his words mumbled. “What do you want me to do?”

"I need you to prove your worth."

Falcone was displeased with Thomas's rudeness, but he still intended to keep him for the time being.

A genius inventor, chairman of Wayne Enterprises... From any perspective, Thomas could bring him a great deal of profit, enough to temporarily erase Thomas's disrespect at this moment.

“Value?” Thomas thought for a few seconds, then shrugged. “My life has never had any value.”

"If you have no value, then die."

“Alright.” Thomas nodded meekly. “What do you consider to be ‘valuable’?”

“It’s simple,” Falcone shifted his position in the chair, scoffing, “A killer’s value depends on who he can kill, a doctor’s value depends on who he can cure, and you, an inventor, your value depends on whether your invention is useful to me. If you can’t come up with anything useful…”

The Roman waved his hand, and a servant beside him handed him a stack of papers.

"Then sign it, hand over your property to me, and consider it as you buying your life."

“Sigh.” Thomas nodded. “I’ve got it. I’ll sign it right away.”

His words aroused suspicion among the Romans.

The Roman squinted, seemingly considering whether Thomas had some backup plan.

"Don't unlock his handcuffs."

The gunman released Thomas, but the pistol was still pointed at the back of his head.

Thomas signed the papers without hesitation.

"You're actually quite pragmatic?" The Roman frowned, sensing something amiss.

“Anyway, you can’t use these pieces of paper,” Thomas retorted calmly. “You know that kidnapping, robbery, and smuggling are no big deal, but threatening someone with force to seize their property is a different matter. You probably have a vague idea that we Gotham 'upper class' have our own set of rules, and you die if you cross them.”

The Romans had gloomy faces.

Those who stand at a high place often see more than others, and he certainly knew the rumors about owls.

“So you can’t do anything to me today,” Thomas said, easily unlocking the handcuffs, while the gunman simply lowered his gun. “The Wayne family has always held an important position in this, and its base was designed and established by my ancestors.”

Being viewed with hostility is still a status, and having territory taken away is still territory; there's nothing wrong with that.

"You think I'd believe you?" The Roman's bluff was completely exposed the moment the gunman put down his weapon, but he still refused to back down. "If everything were really as you say, how could your parents have died at the hands of some nobody?"

“That was an accident, and…” Thomas looked up, staring straight into the Roman’s eyes, “Do you really believe that a four-year-old child could shoot an adult? Do you believe that a thug with no connections would dare to rob Gotham’s richest man? Do you believe that a chairman who comes in with no connections could drive out those scheming directors and executives within a month?”

Falcone didn't say anything more; he didn't believe it.

"Goodbye, Mr. Falcone." Thomas knew he believed him completely, and said goodbye to him on his own. "My butler is probably coming to pick me up. Have a nice evening."

When he turned around, Thomas's expression darkened completely.

...That damned Falcone, he's good for nothing and good for making things worse. He can make such a big fuss about something so trivial, even reaching Bruce.

Thomas could have simply come over wearing the Night Owl armor and resolved the matter directly, which would have been quick, efficient, and clean.

But now, in order to dispel Bruce's doubts and prevent him from associating Night Owl with Thomas, Thomas has to make an extra trip, be offended by the Romans for no reason, and create the illusion that he bowed down to Falcone in exchange for forgiveness.

Damn Falcone.

An owl crouched on the roof of a Roman manor.

I'm going to destroy you tonight.

A note from the author:

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Well… I suddenly remembered something. I've been brainstorming this story for quite a while now. When I was writing the outline, I was binge-reading all sorts of Batman-related works. Now, looking back, I realize the settings and plot are a bit messy, and I don't read many comics; I mainly focus on the anime, TV series, and games. Just a heads-up, if it doesn't fit in the future, I might have to change it… (feeling guilty)

Just a heads-up: be cautious about buying the Arkham trilogy. I got motion sickness and headaches for a long time while playing it, and there's no Simplified Chinese version (although localization isn't too difficult). If you're going to buy them, don't buy them individually; buy the bundle, which is cheaper than the historical low price of all three games combined, and it also includes a DLC.