The Instigator

Gotham hid many secrets. Ever since the city had first been built, it had never been all that pure.

Lynn was an outsider. His knowledge of Gotham was limited to a few comics and movies, while the original owner's chaotic memories offered no help at all.

But that did not stop Lynn from following the clues he knew to find the old bat.

Gotham was the Waynes' Gotham. That was common knowledge among every Gotham citizen.

Lynn could not say whether ordinary people had any objections to that, but the wealthy elites certainly did not like the statement.

They tried to resist, and they had never stopped resisting. That was how the Court of Owls came into being.

The former heads of the Wayne Family, Bruce Wayne's ancestors, had also uncovered a few traces of it. For example, Batman's great-grandfather.

Lynn remembered that the Wayne Family's true rise had begun with that old gentleman. Wayne Manor, Batman's ancestral home, had likely begun construction during his time as well.

The old gentleman had always believed that the owls were plotting against the Wayne Family. Though he had no proof, and no one believed him.

He believed it himself, and gradually became "pathological," convinced that [the owls had already built a nest within the Wayne Family].

In his later years, the old gentleman fell into an obsession that people of that era could not understand at all. In every painting he made, whenever a building appeared, an owl would be nesting on it.

His own foundation had built many towers in Gotham that were somewhat independent of the Wayne Family. Influenced by certain legends and customs, none of those buildings had a thirteenth floor.

After the twelfth floor, they skipped straight to the fourteenth. The thirteenth floor was a sealed space with no windows and no doors.

Bruce Wayne had investigated those floors as a child and paid dearly for it. He had been locked in an empty room for seven days and nearly starved to death.

After that, he no longer believed the Court of Owls existed.

"So, something—some clue—must have made the old bat notice the Court of Owls and the doubts surrounding it again.

"That was why he had so resolutely overturned his own previous judgment and made such a decisive choice."

Originally, Lynn's plan had been simple and direct.

He would fly into the city, find the Wayne Family's buildings, and search their thirteenth floors. However Batman had found the clues, Lynn would simply follow the same method.

But now, he felt that he should find someone who knew the truth first.

So Lynn headed straight for Wayne Manor.

Others might not know about the Wayne Family, but how could Batman's old butler Alfred not know? He probably knew even more than the old bat himself!

Alfred seemed to have been prepared for Lynn's arrival.

He was not as shocked as everyone else had been upon seeing Lynn on the balloon, nor did he make any move to attack.

Perhaps this elegant old gentleman, this old butler, simply had excellent nerves. Or perhaps, more likely, he truly knew everything.

"You knew I would come? You knew I knew his identity?"

Alfred's temples were lightly frosted, but it was difficult to judge his age from his overall appearance. His back was straight, and his posture and bearing were impeccable. He looked like a man in his thirties with a few strands of white hair.

Most importantly, he possessed that unflappable composure, that calmness in the face of great events.

No wonder he had managed to raise a teenager in Gotham burdened with debuffs like dead father, dead mother, billions in assets, wealthy family feuds, ancestral blood vendettas, bad friends, adolescence and rebellion... and so on, into Batman rather than a midnight ghost bat.

It could be said that Batman was the one person in the entire DC Universe who should have gone dark the most. His negative status effects were completely maxed out.

Other things were hard to say, but when it came to raising children, this old butler had definitely maxed that out too.

"Mm... I'll introduce you to Clark Kent's dad someday. You two will definitely have plenty in common!"

In truth, Alfred's expression had gone a little stiff.

He had been worrying about young Master Bruce, who had been missing for days because Alfred had said too much, when a window suddenly shattered and a strange man sitting on a balloon and holding a cat flew inside.

If he had not heard this man's name and description from young Master Bruce many times before, leaving a deep impression of the crucial description, [sitting on a balloon], the old butler would have swung a hammer at him immediately.

Do not let his age fool you. His skills had never dulled; after all, he had once been a soldier.

Once he realized this was the new friend young Master Bruce had made, Alfred finally relaxed.

Though young Master Bruce's friends had never exactly been respectable, at least he had made another friend. That was a wonderful thing.

Alfred had originally intended to be direct and quickly let this Thornvine Man, whom he had guessed had come to help, learn the situation. Instead, he was greeted with two questions.

Before Alfred could organize his thoughts and answer, the other man inexplicably said he wanted to introduce a friend to him.

This man's mind was... Oh, right. No problem.

"Mr. Thornvine, I..."

"Good grief, didn't the old bat tell you what my name is?"

"Uh... Mr. Adrian, I would like to..."

"Relax, Sir Alfred. Just call me Lynn. Did the old bat say anything before he left? Did he... Oh, is that coffee? Did you add sugar? Let me have a sip."

Alfred had thought communicating with his own young master was difficult enough. He had not expected to meet a true master today.

"Mr. Lynn, please come with me."

Alfred simply stopped caring about what Lynn said or asked. He would get straight to the point and tell him everything he knew.

Alfred, dressed in formal attire and exuding aristocratic elegance with every movement, walked and spoke in front. Lynn, in a modern combat suit with a cat on his shoulder and coffee in hand, followed behind, noisily sipping through a straw.

As the two walked through the castle's long corridor, the sight gave off a strange feeling of time being out of place.

"...So, because of some clue, he began to suspect the Court of Owls existed again. You knew all the details from back then and told him everything. Then he disappeared, correct?"

"That is correct," Alfred replied. "He said he had found Gotham's cancer and would end it with his own hands.

"This was the clue he discovered."

As Alfred spoke, he handed a stack of documents to Lynn.

"This thing... Why does it look so familiar?"

After flipping through a few pages, Lynn finally remembered.

Was this not the file he had taken from the safe of that guy named Nathan?

Lynn looked up, and the embarrassed Lynn and the puzzled Alfred stared at each other.

"Uh... sir, don't get worked up. I think I was the one who gave this to him...

"But don't worry! I know how to find him! See you later!"

Being stared at by a lonely old man with the resentful gaze of someone who had found his son's murderer was not something even a thick-skinned person could endure.

Lynn was starting to regret this a little...

"Ha... I should have handled it myself from the beginning."

The balloon rose into the air, and Lynn left Wayne Manor.