Intimidating Wayne

Shane really wanted to say that before Tom had spoken that name, he hadn't thought it would be Batman coming to pick him up.

He politely shook Bruce Wayne's hand.

"Zhent Thragg, but after arriving on Earth, I noticed there's a country here where the people have the same black hair and black eyes as Viltrumites, so I looked into that country's culture and gave myself a more distinctive name—Shane."

He introduced himself in a way that was anything but simple.

"Please, follow me."

Bruce Wayne nodded thoughtfully, withdrew his hand, made a gesture of invitation, then turned and walked toward the interior of the building.

Shane followed behind him, stepping into the lobby of Wayne Enterprises.

The lobby was decorated with an air of understated elegance, yet every detail exuded luxury.

The marble floor was so polished it could serve as a mirror, and the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the welcoming hall radiated a dazzling brilliance.

Employees coming and going were all dressed in neat suits. When they spotted Bruce Wayne, they stopped in their tracks to greet him, their tones respectful.

Bruce Wayne smiled back at the employees' greetings but didn't slow his pace.

He led Shane into a private elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

As the elevator ascended, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the cramped space was the faint hum of the elevator operating.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a spacious office on the top floor.

Bruce Wayne guided Shane to the lounge area of the office, gestured for him to sit, then personally poured a glass of water and handed it over.

"I'm not sure what your preferences are—do you want salt or sugar added?"

Shane took the glass but didn't drink. He simply placed it on the coffee table in front of him.

He stared intently at Bruce Wayne, trying to read something from his expression.

But the Bruce Wayne before him was the very picture of an affable middle-aged capitalist, his tone laced with a touch of humor and playfulness.

He was utterly unlike the mysterious, cold Batman Shane had imagined.

To be honest, the way Bruce Wayne looked right now, if someone said he was Tony Stark from next door after shaving his beard, people might actually believe it.

Shane had a bellyful of sarcastic remarks, but unfortunately, he had no one to vent them to.

In his past life, he'd read plenty of Marvel comics and watched the movies. The Bruce Wayne in front of him was indeed eerily similar to Tony Stark in temperament.

Even more so when he smiled.

Bruce Wayne, unaware of how Shane was mentally roasting him, spoke seriously to continue the conversation.

"The appearance of aliens or superpowered beings from other dimensions on Earth isn't unprecedented."

"Wayne Enterprises has some private collaborations with the Justice League—you already know about the Justice League, right?"

Shane nodded.

"I've watched a lot of TV these past few days. There wasn't much else to do."

Bruce Wayne spread his hands, looking somewhat helpless and troubled.

"Can't help it. Some of them really like to steal the spotlight."

Shane was curious which identity Bruce was speaking from when he said that.

But unfortunately, he couldn't ask.

Bruce continued.

"One of those collaborations involves providing legal identities and placements for 'black-market' superpowered individuals who are confirmed to be harmless."

Shane said nothing.

He knew that what Bruce Wayne was about to say next was the real point.

"However, before that, I'd like to run some tests on your body."

Bruce Wayne's gaze settled on Shane, his tone diplomatic.

"As you know, alien physiology differs greatly from Earthlings'. We need to understand the limits of your abilities and your weaknesses, so we can better help you integrate into Earth and provide more effective assistance if you ever find yourself in danger."

Shane's eyes instantly sharpened with wariness.

As if seeing through his concerns, Bruce Wayne explained.

"Don't be afraid. This isn't mandatory—it's entirely up to you."

After that, Bruce fell silent. He walked over to the liquor cabinet on his own, rubbing his chin as if deliberating which bottle to pick.

But in reality, Bruce Wayne was closely monitoring Shane's reactions through other means.

Ten days ago, the guy who had descended from the sky carrying an unconscious Shane had gruffly warned Batman not to collect any tissue samples from Shane while he was out cold.

And Batman was a bit annoyed—the big guy's attention to detail was nothing like that naive sweetheart from Metropolis.

Not only was he fully aware of Batman's methods, but he had also confiscated all the clever little gadgets Batman had secretly prepared to sneakily extract "alien samples."

In the end, only a single pitiful drop of blood remained in one syringe, and Batman had a feeling that even that one drop was something the guy had tacitly allowed.

"You know, the moment you leave, I have countless ways to get a sample from him."

Batman's low voice carried a hint of irritation.

"Doesn't matter, as long as he's conscious—whatever method you use, you could just be direct about it."

Then that guy flew off, carrying Shane who had received simple medical treatment.

Leaving behind a silent Batman, staring into the night sky.

Shane thought it over carefully and decided Bruce Wayne's proposal actually benefited him too.

He possessed the physique of a Viltrumite, but his understanding of it was far from thorough.

In the comics he'd read in his past life, he only knew Viltrumites were strong and had incredible regenerative abilities, but he didn't know their specific weaknesses beyond noise, or if there were others.

If he could understand his own body through testing, that would be a good thing for him.

Better than having some future opponent quietly pull out a counter-element he didn't even know about and catch him off guard.

Besides, when it came to Batman getting what he wanted, it was just a matter of sooner or later.

No way around it—he couldn't kill the man.

"Fine."

Shane finally nodded.

"I agree to the tests."

Bruce Wayne turned around, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

"Excellent. The testing lab is on the other side of this floor. We can go now."

He stood up and led Shane toward the inner part of the office.

Along the way, Bruce Wayne asked in a seemingly casual tone.

"I know you're from Viltrum. Honestly, I'm very interested in that planet. Can you tell me more about your culture? Like your methods of combat, and the specific process of how you conquer other civilizations."

Shane's steps paused for a moment, then he continued walking.

He knew Bruce Wayne had finally started probing for core information.

He didn't resist, nor did he plan to tell too many lies in front of this man.

"Before I left, our planet was going through a civil war that spanned many years, which caused part of our elite education to become twisted."

Shane's voice carried a hint of undisguised disgust.

"From birth, we were indoctrinated with the belief that 'weakness is sin.'"

"As children, we were thrown into training camps to fight other children to the death. Only the one left standing would receive further training."

He paused, then continued.

"After coming of age, we were sent to various star systems to conquer civilizations deemed 'worthy.'"

"Our method of conquest was simple: first send a small number of warriors to strike, destroy the core of the enemy's military power, then carry out a large-scale occupation. For civilizations that resisted fiercely, we would directly massacre them, leaving no survivors."

After a moment of silence, Shane deliberately slowed his speech, detailing the cruelest, bloodiest parts of Viltrumite culture.

"The last thing I remember, a faction high-up on Viltrum claimed to have developed an even more insidious plan."

"Send a powerful warrior to a planet that needs conquering. First, disguise Viltrumite civilization as some helpful, benevolent race. Spend years integrating, making the native civilization let down their guard. Then, one day, strike without warning and destroy the planet's most important defensive forces."

Shane turned his head to look at Bruce Wayne, whose face had darkened like the bottom of a pot, filled with shock and suspicion.

"To be honest, this plan is cruel, but also brilliant. Conquering a civilization this way could require only a single warrior, and it would greatly reduce the mortality rate of Viltrumite warriors, because direct invasion often provokes the fiercest resistance."

"One misstep, and even the most experienced and powerful warrior squad could easily fail."

Bruce Wayne instinctively raised an objection.

"But the time cost—"

"Oh, our average lifespan is very long. I hear you Earthlings think living a hundred years is impressive, but a Viltrumite warrior—someone like me—after passing the coming-of-age ceremony, our service period alone lasts five thousand years."

Bruce's accelerating heartbeat was precisely captured by Shane.

Only now did Shane truly feel how hard Bruce and Batman worked to draw a line between them.

With that kind of powerful control, able to even disguise emotions, if he hadn't retained the memories of his past life, he might have only thought Bruce was an interesting, curious rich man.