"Impossible. I don't quite believe that a billionaire, Gotham's richest man, would risk his life every day to fight crime."
"Maybe he finds it exciting, treating Gotham like an amusement park, and this kind of thing as a game?
I heard his suit is bulletproof, and the Batmobile he drives can shoot missiles. What could possibly happen?"
"Rich and young, and able to acquire Military-grade equipment superior to the Military's. Besides Bruce Wayne, who else in Gotham fits these characteristics?"
Online, the identity of Batman has always been a hot topic, with all sorts of speculations.
Despite a lack of evidence, from a speculative standpoint, Bruce Wayne seemed to be Gotham's Dark Knight, Batman.
Regarding this speculation, the internet exploded, and Gotham's media were like sharks smelling blood.
This news, concerning Gotham's richest man and the Wayne heir who received much attention after announcing the Gotham reconstruction plan, would be huge if confirmed.
Even if it couldn't be confirmed, interviewing Gotham's richest man about it would certainly be good.
Wayne Tower, in front of the entrance.
"Mr. Wayne, people online are analyzing that you are Batman. What do you have to say about this?"
"As a billionaire, what drives you to risk danger to fight crime, President Bruce?"
"Could you share your thoughts on Batman, Mr. Wayne?"
"…" Reporters swarmed, holding microphones, asking questions eagerly.
"Batman? Who is that?
A vigilante who likes to wear strange bat costumes and appear at night?
Sounds quite boring."
Facing these questions, Bruce Wayne spoke with disdain, like a playboy only interested in pleasures, showing a complete lack of interest.
"Compared to fighting villains and thugs all night, facing fists and clubs, I prefer to spend a wonderful night with the dancers of the National Ballet, enjoying their gentle whispers."
After speaking, he put his hands in his pockets and turned to enter the elevator.
The diligent and serious security personnel stopped the reporters who still wanted to interview him.
Inside the elevator, Bruce Wayne's face turned grim.
His identity was about to be exposed; though it hadn't yet, he knew it was coming, and this was just the beginning.
"Something must be done…"
It hadn't been a short time since he returned to Gotham as Batman. Previously, no one noticed this point, but now this flaw had been discovered.
Bruce Wayne felt a sense of urgency.
His identity must never be exposed.
The bat, as a sinister nocturnal animal, accustomed to hiding in the dark, hanging upside down, watching everyone, as if ready to pounce at any moment, is a ruthless bloodsucking killer, and was his childhood nightmare.
He chose to turn himself into a bat because he wanted to create an abstract, mysterious symbol, making himself the nightmare of all villains in Gotham.
"When I am Bruce Wayne, I am just an ordinary person; others can see my fatigue and pain.
But when I become Batman, I become a mysterious existence, looking down on Gotham from above, powerful and elusive, hiding all vulnerability beneath the suit, never to be defeated, inspiring fear."
Bruce Wayne recalled his thoughts on fighting crime as Batman.
Moreover, as social animals, people often cannot be reckless because of the existence of family and relatives. Although his parents had passed away, he still had one relative—his butler, Alfred, who had cared for him and raised him since childhood.
He didn't care if his assets were retaliated against or suffered losses, but he feared that if his identity were exposed, it would implicate his old butler, and those gangsters would crazily attack the people around him.
"I need to find a way to make the public distinguish between me and Batman."
If he and Batman appeared simultaneously, people should no longer suspect this matter, Bruce Wayne mused.
Ding.
The elevator opened, leading directly to the observation deck at the top of Wayne Tower.
Some partner companies and employees were waiting, and seeing him appear, they eagerly came forward.
"President Wayne."
"Everyone…"
Bruce Wayne put on a confident smile and went straight to the point, discussing and deliberating the details of the Gotham reconstruction plan, starting with the history of Gotham Tower.
As one of the strongest martial artists on Earth, his speaking skills were as excellent as his business acumen.
"Please allow me to introduce this building beneath our feet to our friends who have come from afar."
"Wayne Tower was built in 1888, supervised by my great-great-grandfather, Alan Wayne. The building he established has now become a landmark in Gotham."
"But in fact, the Wayne Tower you see has undergone more than a dozen renovations to achieve its current height and style, which are in line with the times."
Gotham, like Wayne Tower, needs continuous renovation and reconstruction to keep up with the new century and become better.
"Let us look through these tempered glass panes and imagine that slightly underdeveloped urban area in the distance…"
He was just about to lead his partners and company staff to envision the future and explain the grandeur and necessity of the Gotham reconstruction plan.
Whoosh!
From around the corner of the corridor behind the crowd, a shuriken suddenly shot out fiercely.
Puff!
With powerful force and a tricky angle, blood splattered.
Bruce Wayne clutched his injured shoulder, having taken a sneak attack, and groaned in pain, his sharp gaze subtly looking towards the corner.
"Who?!"
"Ah… murder."
"There's a killer!"
Seeing Bruce Wayne attacked, the surrounding people ducked and fled in a panic.
Several figures emerged from the shadows, assassins clad in black bodysuits and wearing owl masks, exuding a cold, murderous aura, like emotionless killing machines. They silently launched shurikens at him, as if they wouldn't stop until he was dead.
"Bruce Wayne, your time has come!"
A low, cold voice echoed in the observation deck, like the tolling of a death knell.
Bruce Wayne dodged the shurikens and fought with the assassins wearing owl masks, his mind racing.
"Beware the Court of Owls, always watching your movements. Peering into Gotham City from the shadows, hidden in low walls and attics.
He is at home with you, he is in your bed with you. Never speak his name, or the Talon will come for your head."
He had heard various legends about the Court of Owls since he was a child. They gathered in the dark, the owl was their emblem, their nests were everywhere, controlling this dark city.
In this city, anyone who defied their will would be eliminated by the Court of Owls' 'Talons.'
"Are you the Talons of the Court of Owls?"
Even injured, fighting several at once, Bruce Wayne still held the upper hand with his punches and kicks.
These assassins were powerful, calm, and efficient, the most excellent killing weapons, but they were no match for one of the strongest martial artists in the World.
Every one of his strikes went straight for vital points and weaknesses; his power was enough to shatter bones and cripple people.
After a dozen moves, Bruce Wayne noticed something was wrong. Why couldn't these people be knocked down no matter how much he hit them?