That was definitely impossible.
Things that belonged to someone could still be snatched away, but there was a one-in-ten-thousand chance of incurring a price.
But if something belonged to no one, then if I took it—no, if I picked it up—there shouldn't be any strings attached.
And making that happen required some planning.
Lake had begun planning this scheme half a year ago, after Vivian's heart appeared in Raccoon City.
Lake looked at Vivian and said, "Besides, you were the one who proposed this plan in the first place. You said hatred was what could drive a person to grow rapidly."
Vivian rolled her eyes at Lake. "I regret it now. Is that okay?"
Lake burst out laughing. "Of course."
Vivian rolled her eyes again at Lake's extremely perfunctory tone and sighed. "Forget it. This world is a gift I intend to leave for my son."
Lake smiled. "Don't worry. It'll be soon. If it really comes to that, you can come back to meet your son after everything is over. If that still doesn't work, let him nearly die once, and he can go to the underworld to see you."
Vivian rolled her eyes at Lake once more and headed toward the backyard.
In the backyard.
Bruce was five years old that year, but he was already so gifted that he could be called a child prodigy. Under Alfred's guidance, he practiced his punches and kicks, every move precise and disciplined.
Lake shook his head while sitting in the living room. His consciousness directly connected with the Chaos Force Tree, putting it on standby at all times in an effort to apply pressure to the reality universe, which was also secretly spying from the shadows.
Soon.
Three years later.
That year, little Bruce Wayne was eight years old.
At