Hurried footsteps echoed through the dim corridor. The polished floor reflected the agent's hasty steps, while the scraping of a gun being cocked sounded like a cassette tape suddenly snagging. The overhead lights flickered irregularly. Outside the windows, the howling wind had gradually weakened, but thick, goose-feather snowflakes still drifted down.
The storm had gradually moved away, yet the snow had not stopped. Even without wind-driven blades of snow screaming through the air, the flakes still fell densely. The weather remained bitterly cold, and before the snow on the streets could melt, it was covered by another pure white layer.
The sky remained overcast. Heavy gray clouds hung above the manor, like a great stone pressing down on everyone's hearts.
Everyone could feel that the atmosphere in the manor was becoming increasingly oppressive.
If the mayor's murder had been a light piano prelude, then the gunfight that had just erupted in the corridor was its passionate drumbeat climax. Now, as the low, hoarse strings began to play, everyone knew the ending was near.
But that did not mean they would all be able to leave safely. When the agents' hurried footsteps and the sound of pistols being cocked reached the guest rooms through the corridor, they all understood that some kind of confrontation was about to begin.
The atmosphere grew quiet, yet even more sinister. Like the drifting snow outside, the storm might have been fierce, but the absence of wind carried an even deadlier threat.
At this moment, it was not only the mayor's manor in Metropolis that was tense. The same was true at Wayne Manor, far away in Gotham.
Dick tiptoed down the corridor, gently turned the doorknob, slipped inside the moment the door opened, and quickly shut it behind him.
Aisha, who had been sitting on