I'm Not Through with You

"I know I shouldn't be so impatient, but time waits for no one, Alfred.

I have to act as soon as possible if I'm to have a chance of removing Downton, this enormous problem, from Gotham."

Bruce replied, then picked up his knife and fork and quickly began eating breakfast.

As he ate, he continued speaking, making the most of his time.

"Although Downton's immortality has been confirmed, his own abilities are still very immature for now. Of course, only for now.

With the way he lives, constantly chasing death, it probably won't be long before he evolves into one of the most dangerous people in the world amid gunfire and repeated deaths.

Only now can I take advantage of his lack of experience, find his weaknesses as much as possible, and drive him out of Gotham!

If I miss this chance, I have a feeling he'll become a huge problem that plagues me for the rest of my life!"

With that, Bruce expressionlessly speared a piece of fried egg.

Noticing that Bruce had put slightly more force into his fork, Alfred shook his head and tried to persuade him.

"We're not the only ones who want to deal with him, Bruce. Perhaps we can let others try first.

Just like yesterday. Downton's conflict with the Falcone Family caused Falcone to lose Sabatino, an old friend he had known for years. Downton's actions are destined to be irreconcilable with Gotham's existing gangs.

In my opinion, letting their feud ferment for a while may be more appropriate than rushing in."

"Even if fools happen to find Downton's weakness, they may not know how to make good use of it. A mistaken attempt to flush him out could even make Downton realize he has a weakness and compensate for it accordingly.

I don't trust any gang in Gotham, much less City Hall, which accomplishes nothing, or the Gotham Police Department, which is practically in bed with Falcone.

Downton, Falcone, and his lackeys—they all deserve to go to hell. It's just that Downton is the more urgent problem.

In the name of Gotham's night, I will bring retribution upon every one of them. They must spend every day of the rest of their lives in endless pain and fear.

This is my revenge. I have to do it myself. I can't wait another moment, Alfred!"

Faced with Alfred's advice, Bruce turned his head, reflecting his cold pupils in Alfred's eyes.

Looking into Bruce's icy gaze, Alfred's breathing stopped for an instant.

Yes, he should have known. Even after fifteen years, Bruce was still standing in Crime Alley. He had never escaped it.

As for the Bruce before him, the man walking the earth now was merely an embodiment of vengeance.

Before he had even had the chance to love this city, he had already begun to hate every inch of its soil and every person in it.

It was simply that he hated the criminals in this city even more deeply!

Taking a deep breath, Alfred nodded gently.

"I understand, Bruce. But even so, you still need better armor and equipment.

I'll hurry and commission the mask you want. As for everything else, I think you should take a look at Wayne Enterprises' research and development department.

During the years you were gone, Lucius hasn't had an easy time, but his mind hasn't gone to waste.

Perhaps you'll find something there that satisfies you."

"I'll go later."

In response to his butler's kindness, Bruce answered, while a faint ache rose in his heart.

As perceptive as he was, how could he fail to see the worry, guilt, pain, and disappointment Alfred hid inside?

A pie chart was far from enough to describe a person's emotions, and human complexity was far beyond what modern mathematics could analyze.

Forcing himself not to look at Alfred's eyes anymore, Bruce continued.

"When I go to the company, I need you to keep monitoring news about Downton.

If possible, crack and tap the phone Downton left with reporter Lois Lane yesterday.

Besides that, I need more intelligence about this city. Whenever there's no news about Downton, I hope you can help me gather and organize some."

"Of course, Bruce. I will always stand by your side."

Alfred nodded, then smiled at Bruce just as he had ten or twenty years ago.

That smile stung Bruce's eyes. He set down his utensils, got dressed, and headed straight for Wayne Enterprises.

Meanwhile, not far from the entrance of Gunfire Feast in Little Italy.

The eyes of two early-rising streetwalkers lit up.

"Is that him?"

"That's him. I've seen him with my own eyes. Hurry and call the boss!"

The man they were talking about did not notice the women's whispers. Standing before the bald owner's shop, Downton helplessly shrugged.

"No way. Did someone really get scared by Falcone from so far away and flee back to the countryside?"

As he spoke, Downton patted the locked shop door. But even after more than ten seconds, there was no response from inside.

So Downton amusedly drew his gun.

"Old man, I'm here to restock. Since you're not around, I'll borrow some myself. I'll pay you back once I have money!

Falcone hasn't even investigated you yet, and you've already run back to the countryside? Does that courage match the big guns you keep in your store?"

With that, Downton fired several shots into the rolling shutter's lock cylinder, blowing it apart.

Accompanied by the blaring alarm, he pulled up the shutter and rushed laughing into the bald owner's shop.

He first grabbed the tactical backpack nearest the entrance, then began restocking it.

Downton did not touch the tactical rifles that looked impressive. Instead, he stuffed two sawed-off shotguns into the bag, took a submachine gun, and finally grabbed an extra Desert Eagle, turning himself into a dual-wielding gunslinger.

He crammed the remaining space in the backpack full of grenades and ammunition. He took only fragmentation grenades—what he wanted was pure destructive force.

Besides that, he found a tactical knife and hung it at his waist.

Before the police arrived, he was already running toward the Iceberg Lounge with a backpack full of supplies.

Downton never waited until the next day for revenge. If he did, it was only because work hours had ended.

After resting for a night and recovering his energy, of course he intended to continue settling scores with the Dimitrov Family.

Sabatino had been dead for so long, yet the Dimitrov Family's boss was still alive. Just thinking about it made Downton feel far too lazy.

Maybe he should extend overtime until nine at night. Going for a massage at seven last night... that really had been a waste of time.

After all, massages felt even better when they put him to sleep after nine!

However, even if he wanted to finish the job with the Dimitrov Family, he knew nothing about them.

So he could only visit the Iceberg Lounge first and trade information with the black-stockinged broker he had arranged to meet.

Upon learning that Downton had arrived, Liv, who had only recently received word from her subordinates, hurried out to greet him.

Meanwhile, in Little Italy, the bald owner stopped his car with a baffled expression and stared blankly at his battered shop door... and the weapons store that had been completely cleaned out!

Although the instant he received the alarm, he had rushed here from home.

After Downton left, his shop, with no door to shield it, had been picked clean by countless vultures like a drunken, defenseless girl.

Looking at his nearly empty store, the bald owner swallowed hard, then raised his wrist and looked at his watch.

"It's only fucking eight forty! What gun store opens that early in the morning?!

Downton, you goddamn bastard, I'm going to fuck your whole family!

This is insane, completely insane! Don't ever think you'll get supplies from me again!

I'm not done with you, Downton!!!"