Alfred lifted the cup of tea, which had gone lukewarm again, and took a small sip.
"If your deduction is correct, then that means... every metahuman he treats makes him stronger."
"Yes."
"Where is his limit?"
Bruce did not answer.
Because he could not think of one.
Theoretically, if Lynn could treat anyone and gain their abilities through treatment, then his potential had no upper limit.
The more people he treated, the stronger they were, the stronger he himself became.
That thought gave Bruce two feelings.
The first was a detective's curiosity when faced with the unknown.
The second was a guardian's calm vigilance toward a potential threat.
"Alfred."
"Yes, sir."
"I need to speak with him directly."
Alfred set down the teacup.
"As Bruce Wayne, or...?"
"Batman."
The old butler fell silent for several seconds.
"Forgive me for speaking frankly, sir. Questioning a partner about the source of his abilities as Batman could easily be interpreted as a sign of hostility."
"Not questioning. A conversation." Bruce closed the spreadsheet on the screen.
"I'll give him a chance to explain first. If his explanation is reasonable, I'll choose to believe him—at least for now."
"And if it isn't?"
"Then I'll need to make more preparations."
Alfred took the teacup away.
He paused as he reached the door.
"Dr. Lynn is a smart man. If you can see something, he has most likely anticipated that you would see it."
"I know."
"Then this conversation is not, in essence, an interrogation. It is a game between two intelligent men."
Bruce did not deny it.
Alfred left.
Bruce sat alone in the darkness of the Batcave, considering every move to come.
He knew Lynn would not tell the whole truth.
But he did not need the whole truth. What he needed was an