Undercover

[ XX Company Files Lawsuit Against Scarecrow Jonathan Crane, Claiming His Use of Their Products at Crime Scenes Tarnishes the Company's Image and Has Severely Affected Sales. The Company Will Pursue Legal Action. ]

Bruce: "..."

Bruce: "?"

Avery followed his gaze and, with a smile, offered an explanation. "It's probably because, during one of Scarecrow's crimes recently, some of the company's executives were inadvertently affected by him. I remember hearing about it."

"He likely thinks that since he's not in the same city, Scarecrow won't come after him, so he feels safe enough to…"

Avery carefully chose his words before nodding and concluding, "...Hmm, brave."

This brief interlude was quickly forgotten. No one cared what happened to the Scarecrow—people only cared about themselves.

Though Bruce Wayne had said he would wait until nightfall to infiltrate the Williams Orphanage for a closer look, in reality, he wasn't the type to delay when faced with such matters. After all, it meant wasting precious time.

After finishing his conversation with Avery, Bruce leaned back in his black leather chair. Deep in thought, he frowned, mulling over the idea that he should disguise himself and visit the orphanage right now. He could go under the guise of a potential adopter, observing from a more overt angle. But…

Thinking along those lines, he walked over to the bright, spacious floor-to-ceiling window and glanced down at the reporters camped outside Wayne Tower, eagerly waiting to ambush him.

Though this group wasn't exactly swarming around the front entrance, they were hidden behind the building, lying in wait to pounce the moment he stepped outside. From this vantage point, they were absurdly obvious—reporters sneaking around with their cameras and microphones, and Bruce didn't even need to try hard to spot them.

He had to admit, this was one of the minor reasons he'd originally planned to wait until the evening. Every exit of Wayne Tower was being watched. Without a disguise, walking out the door would mean getting sucked into the whirlpool of the crowd, and there was no getting out of that unscathed.

However, he didn't have the necessary makeup tools on hand. Asking Alfred to prepare them would be risky in its own way, considering that the old butler had frequently accompanied him to public events. The reporters knew Alfred was close to him and would assume there was something worth digging up.

In other words, even if Alfred went out alone, he'd be mobbed. Those sharp-nosed hyenas wouldn't miss any chance to score a story.

But aside from Alfred, Bruce didn't trust anyone else to handle this matter. He couldn't very well ask Lucius to do it either. Though it pained him to admit it, Lucius was currently working in the CEO's office upstairs. The man had enough on his plate, and Bruce had noticed his hair was thinning more than usual lately. It wouldn't be right to bother him with something so trivial.

If he couldn't try a peaceful method, then he might have to knock out the people at the door or slip out through the underground passage.

Bruce Wayne considered this, but quickly shook his head, dismissing both options almost immediately.

That would be ridiculous. The situation wasn't nearly dire enough to warrant such drastic measures. Compared to those extremes, he realized he wasn't actually in such a hurry. Not going out at all was, in fact, an option.

In the empty apartment room, the steady tapping of fingers on the desk echoed. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting its warmth across his face. As Bruce Wayne sat there, a sudden realization struck him—there was actually someone else who could help him with this task.

Bruce's eyes snapped open.

How could he have forgotten about him? Was it because he wasn't used to asking for his help yet? Avery was the perfect choice. He had only recently returned to Gotham, and the media wasn't familiar with him yet. They definitely wouldn't pay attention to him.

Although Avery, who mysteriously learned magic after disappearing for a few years, wasn't really cut out for serving others and yet had applied for a service job, there were still many unanswered questions about him. But Bruce knew him well enough to be sure Avery wouldn't betray him.

So...

Without hesitation, Bruce efficiently dialed Avery's number.

...

Avery, having been summoned, arrived at his new employer's room. He politely knocked on the door, and after hearing a muffled "Come in," he turned the handle, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.

Looking towards Bruce, he asked, "Is there something you need me for?"

He figured Bruce probably wanted to go see just how corrupt that orphanage was.

Having already scoped out the place himself, Avery knew that Bruce preferred to rely on what he saw with his own eyes. It wasn't a matter of trust—it was just the way Bruce operated. Regardless, Avery was certain Bruce would personally investigate and dig up every dark secret about the orphanage.

Bruce was seated at his desk, holding a black ballpoint pen, seemingly in the middle of writing something. Without looking up, he said, "Avery, I need you to help me buy some items for facial disguises, along with a plain suit and a matching hat."

It was probably because of the reporters stationed outside. Otherwise, Bruce would've prepared these things himself. After all, both he and Alfred weren't exactly experts in the art of disguise, and there would inevitably be oversights or shortcomings if they tried to handle it on their own.

Avery stood there, his posture straight, a hint of amusement playing on his lips as he looked at Bruce. "Can't get out, can you?"

It was a clear jab at his employer's current situation.

Bruce sighed, setting down the pen before tossing a piece of paper at him.

The lightweight paper should have fluttered gently to the ground like a feather, but in Bruce's hand, it transformed into something more like a sharp arrow. With a swift "whoosh," it shot through the air, fast and precise.