Recognition

It all happened in a split second.

Avery didn't even flinch at the "attack." Calmly, he extended his hand and, just centimeters before the paper reached him, effortlessly caught it between two fingers.

At the same time, Bruce's voice, tinged with self-deprecating humor, reached his ears: "I think you can spare me the mockery for now."

Sometimes, fame was more of a burden than a blessing.

Avery had only made a casual remark, but now, with the task at hand, he grew unexpectedly serious. He decided not to tease his old friend any further and instead focused on figuring out how to get the job done.

After all, serving his employer was part of the job.

He glanced at the list in his hand, and after just a quick look, he realized it was far beyond his expertise. Foundation, concealer, highlighter—those he could understand; they were for altering facial contours with makeup. But things like silicone gel? What was that for? Crafting fake faces?

The list also included wigs, loose hair, glue, and other such items…

As Avery scanned the contents, he couldn't help but admire humanity's cleverness. Sure, Muggles couldn't use magic and most lacked the innate talent for it. But they compensated by ingeniously employing various tools to achieve their goals. Though it took them more time and effort, and the results often lacked the precision of magic, there was something respectable about getting the job done through sheer skill and ingenuity.

Avery quickly finished reading the list, folding it and placing it in the pocket of his coat. He nodded to his employer, Mr. Wayne, who was sitting there. "I'll take care of it right away."

With that, he exited the office and made his way to the elevator. After a brief wait, he arrived at the first floor, then crossed the lobby and headed for the main entrance.

Perhaps mistaking him for a staff member of Wayne Tower, the journalists lurking on the street, ready to pounce, didn't make a move.

Their target was Bruce Wayne; if that didn't work, they might settle for his butler. To them, Avery was merely an attractive stranger with no recognizable news value, so they wouldn't rush to interview someone walking out of Wayne Tower.

That was the perspective of most reporters.

However, Vicki Vale, a well-known reporter and photographer for the Gotham Gazette, looked at Avery's lean yet not weak physique and his handsome, charismatic face, and suddenly had a different idea.

The journalists had been camped out here since morning, but by the afternoon, Bruce Wayne had left them hanging.

For reporters, this was not unusual when chasing a story. However, staying any longer wouldn't guarantee results. After all, Wayne might be waiting for the buzz to die down before reemerging in public to avoid being cornered by cameras and microphones.

Yet they remained steadfast; this wasn't just about professionalism but also because their boss demanded it.

As for the fact that the subject was too scared to step outside due to their presence, the journalists certainly didn't feel sorry. After all, they were just trying to make a living.

That was the nature of Gotham—a place where those clinging to a bit of kindness still existed amid the struggle for survival.

So, while there was no big news, even a bit of gossip would suffice; they couldn't come back empty-handed. Moreover, with such a handsome employee, the audience might at least boost their sales a little out of sheer admiration for his looks.

Thus, Vicki Vale stepped in front of Avery and delivered her opening line.

"Excuse me, sir, are you an employee of Wayne Enterprises?"

Caught off guard, Avery instinctively raised a hand in a defensive gesture. After hearing her words, he gave the blonde girl a slightly cold, assessing glance before naturally lowering his hand.

When a figure suddenly appeared in front of him, Avery initially thought he was being attacked, nearly reflexively disarming the newcomer to immobilize them. However, just a second before a disaster was about to unfold, he noticed the camera propped against the person's shoulder and suddenly realized the truth, forcing himself to hold back.

Once the question was asked, he pondered for a moment. The chairman of Wayne Enterprises was Bruce, and he was currently employed by him, so…

"I suppose so," he replied nonchalantly.

Vicki Vale inquired, "Then what is your biggest expectation during your time working here?"

Avery considered for a moment and said, "I just want to wrap up this interview. I haven't finished the tasks assigned by my boss."

"…"

Vicki Vale's smile stiffened for a moment, and the hand holding the microphone hesitated slightly. Then, as if she hadn't heard what he said, she flicked her hair and continued the interview, skipping unnecessary formalities and going straight for the question everyone wanted to know:

"What are your thoughts on your boss's mansion burning down?"

"Thoughts? No, I don't have any thoughts on that; after all, it's his house. My only wish is that my boss could channel some of his enthusiasm for beautiful women into caring for his own body, rather than toiling all night and then thinking about playing dress-up during the day."

Avery spoke nothing but the truth; Batman had indeed worked hard all night and was currently instructing him to buy props for "playing."

However, what he said carried a vastly different significance to others who heard it.

Upon catching wind of the key phrase, Vicki Vale's eyes lit up, and her smile instantly became more enthusiastic as she moved the microphone closer. "Could you elaborate on that?"

But Avery didn't respond immediately; instead, he raised a hand and expressionlessly pointed behind her. "Look over there."

Confused, Vicki Vale turned around, only to see the usual street scene. She quickly realized she had been played. Just as she turned back to say something, she discovered that the figure had already vanished.

"Running off so fast?"

She felt a bit unwilling, but thinking that this interview still held some value, she reconciled herself to it and prepared to rush back to the newsroom, eager to publish the headline before anyone else.

The woman left quickly, and time passed. Before long, Avery entered the Wayne Tower building, carrying a large suitcase. Moments later, a man wearing a top hat, with shadows covering almost half of his face, walked out.

Seeing that his appearance was unremarkable, people quickly lost interest and shifted their gaze away.