"But I indeed need money."
"You think I will finance you without hesitation?"
"Obviously, you will."
"Why would I?"
"Because if you don't, I'll expose your communist ties."
Thomas froze.
Bruce slowly moved in front of Thomas and looked him in the eyes, "Sixteen substantial transactions from thirty-two new companies registered last month must have been going to countries other than Mexico, right?"
Thomas clenched his eyes, and said in a warning tone, "…you've been checking my accounts?"
"I didn't, but I have my ways," Bruce spread his arms once again, "Split the defense budget with me, and I'll turn a blind eye."
"Are you trying to blackmail me?"
"Of course not, it's just a coincidence."
"... One-third, tell me what's wrong."
"Half, no negotiation."
Thomas stared at Bruce in silence for a long while, then slowly stepped back. He gave Bruce a once-over as if reassessing him, then he took a deep breath and acquiesced.
"Deal, tell me how you found out."
Bruce had already walked back to the door of his room. He turned around at the top of the stairs to look downward, and before he entered his room, he said one thing.
"Within America, there's no place to hide."
The door slammed shut with a 'bang.' Thomas retreated his upward glance, and a shocked expression crossed his face as if he had realized something.
"Alfred! Alfred!!!" Thomas was walking towards the closet as he ordered, "Prepare a car, I need to go out! Quick!"
After Alfred's response, a murmur of cursing could be heard from within the closet.
"How could that damned waster be so audacious? How could he ensure that he won't be discovered… Alfred! Alfred! Bring me the phone book, I need to contact someone, make sure he isn't on the contact list… and the CIA's…"
The voice of Thomas, who had already run out the door, faded into the night sky. Nightwing, who was in the living room, didn't understand the argument, only remembering words like "Mexico," "largest transaction," and "CIA."
He glanced at his watch; it was already the early morning, and it wouldn't be long until daybreak. After a restless night, Nightwing felt quite exhausted, so he slowly walked back to his room and threw himself onto the soft bed, hoping to get a good night's sleep.
Nightwing assumed he wouldn't be able to sleep. He often fell into deep fatigue after a chaotic day, but was utterly unable to sleep. However, today was an exception, he slept soundly until Alfred knocked on his door for breakfast, and he was still groggy.
Groggily, Nightwing stepped out of his room and looked down from the atrium to see that others were already gathered on the couch, waiting for breakfast.
Barbara Gordon stormed into Wayne Manor, clutching a glass from the coffee table and gulping down a few mouthfuls. She spread her hands and said, "You guys have no idea how crazy my night was!"
"What happened?" Red Robin asked, holding a mug.
Barbara caught her breath, then explained, "Last night, a group of mob bosses stormed into James's house, or rather, that damned Gordon Manor. They wanted to discuss Gotham's rap contest! I spent half the night doing their accounting!"
"A rap contest?" Red Hood furrowed his brow.
Seeing his puzzled face, Barbara realized, "Oh, you guys don't know, do you? A rapper from Gotham is taking off lately, showing up in this week's top ten on the Billboard charts. He just broke into the top three last night, and he might leap to first place tomorrow."
"His nickname is 'Gotham Boy.' He's taken the world by storm with a rap album, rumored to be a strong competitor for this year's Grammy Awards. Gotham is getting a lot of attention from this, and the mob wants to strike while the iron is hot and host a rap contest. The mayor wants to invigorate tourism."
"Damn!" Red Hood cursed, "Gotham, a tourist attraction? Who the hell would want to tour Gotham?"
Barbara sat on the couch, right next to Bruce. She took another sip of water, caught her breath, and said, "Actually, Gotham has been making a lot of noise lately, becoming something of a homeland for gangster rap. It's got a lot of people curious."
"This is ridiculous." Red Robin commented.
"There's more ridiculous stuff." Barbara glanced at Bruce and asked, "Guess what the king of Gotham's hot album is called?"
"What?" While taking a sip of his water, Red Hood asked curiously.
"'Gotham King'!"
"Pft!"
The water that Red Hood was drinking squirted out, and he started coughing violently. The three Robins simultaneously turned to look at Bruce, who was tinkering with his computer across the room.
Bruce's expression remained unmoved. He was operating a very bulky computer that looked like a box and had a hard drive attached to the side.
Following the gazes of the three Robins, Barbara looked over at Bruce and noticed that the screen of Bruce's computer was displaying the backend of a bank.
This world's Batman is really strange, Barbara thought to herself. He didn't mind someone else calling themselves the king of Gotham?
Wait, a bank's backend?
Barbara looked at the computer screen in confusion. She examined the layout of the graphics on the interface, and then she shouted out in shock.
"Batman! What are you doing?!" Barbara yelled.
Bruce calmly turned to look at her, then turned back to continue playing with his computer. Watching the long series of numbers Bruce was entering into an input box, Barbara dashed over and grabbed his hand that was about to click 'confirm', repeating her question with panic.
"Batman!! What are you doing?!"
Bruce fiddled with a card in his hand, "My bank card was frozen, so I needed to figure something out."
"But why did you hack into the Federal Reserve's backend?!"
"I was planning on borrowing some money."
Barbara froze on the spot, her eyes wide in disbelief at Bruce. Bruce looked back at her earnestly.
"My teacher's friend taught me, systemic borrowing in macroeconomics."
"What???!!"
"Massive borrowing, systematic repayment."
Barbara was half dead, but even more stunned was Nightwing, who had walked over to the breakfast table and picked up the newspaper.
The headline on the front page jolted Nightwing fully awake, and he broke out in a cold sweat.
"James Woolsey, director of the CIA, claims that in the past month, several large, unidentified transactions have been made to Mexico. It's possible that the Soviet Union is secretly funding the communists!"