Bruce Wayne Will Definitely Thank Me

"You're not much of a gentleman, are you? You won't even indulge a lovely lady's little hobby. How cold and cruel."

Seeing that she had no chance of getting the rings set with beautiful gems, and no way to deal with Raymond, Catwoman stopped pressing him. She released his neck from between her legs, flipped backward, and landed steadily on her feet.

Her balance, coordination, and reflexes were impressive. The slippery stockings and seven-inch heels on her feet seemed to hinder her not at all.

Her backflip had carried her more than eight feet into the air.

An ordinary person might have sprained an ankle landing from that height even in flat shoes.

"Miss, the fact that you're still alive is proof enough of my courtesy and mercy. The last thief who tried to steal from me has grass growing ten feet high over his grave," Raymond replied with a smile.

Catwoman's easy confidence vanished. Wary now, she began to back away.

She had a keen sense for danger, and she could tell the young man wasn't joking or bluffing.

Even a man over six and a half feet tall and weighing more than 280 pounds couldn't have come away unscathed after she locked her legs around his neck.

That physical toughness, invisible from the outside, said plenty.

This was Gotham, after all!

The city had no shortage of unhinged freaks or monsters transformed by unknown forces.

As Catwoman's figure faded into the darkness, her backside bumped into something. She glanced over her shoulder.

In an instant, she saw a pair of green eyes glowing in the dark and a body as massive as a hill of flesh.

A... a bear?!

Catwoman arched her back like a startled cat with its fur standing on end. Every nerve went taut, and