Every test, every precaution, every psychological gambit he had made was lightly brushed aside by a single phrase: pay more.
This man simply did not care that he was Batman, did not care about the darkness in his heart, did not care about everything he carried on his shoulders.
In his eyes, Bruce was merely a malfunctioning "part" that needed fixing.
And repairs cost money.
This relationship, a transaction stripped of all emotion and taken to its purest extreme, instead left Bruce unable to find any moral or emotional angle from which to attack.
"I understand." In the end, Bruce forced those words through clenched teeth.
He tacitly accepted Lynn's position as a detached, purely neutral ally standing above everything else.
A... monster who could not be controlled, could not be threatened, and could only be worked with through transactions.
"Very good." Lynn nodded in satisfaction. He liked dealing with smart people.
He turned to Alfred, who had not dared breathe loudly from beginning to end.
"Mr. Alfred, the patient is awake. My work here is done."
"As for the consultation fee, I trust Wayne Enterprises' finance department will know what to do."
"I'll need to borrow that Stealth Aircraft to take me back to New York."
Alfred glanced at Bruce, who was already able to sit up on his own. At last, an expression of relief appeared on his aged face.
He gave Lynn a deep bow. "Of course, Dr. Lynn. The Wayne Family will forever remember your help."
Lynn merely shrugged noncommittally.
He did not need to be remembered. He only needed to see the numbers hit his account.
With the generous spoils from his trip to Gotham, Lynn boarded the Stealth Aircraft—a symbol of Earth's cutting-edge technology—and returned silently to New York.
By the time he returned