Repaying Kindness with Enmity

Wayne Mechanical Materials.

This was an office building that had been under the Wayne Family's control for generations. The Wayne Family's earliest impression on people had begun with towering buildings like this rising throughout Gotham.

After leaving Wayne Manor, Lynn came straight to this building. He did not choose to launch a surprise infiltration, assume a disguised identity, or crawl through ventilation ducts.

He simply rode a balloon up to the thirteenth floor. After confirming that several owl gargoyles, utterly at odds with the building's overall style, hung from the exterior, he reached into his clothes, took out a handful of seeds, and scattered them into the cracks behind the stone statues.

Before long, several jointed, flowerless plants grew rapidly in the wind. Their dense roots soon forced open gaps in the reinforced concrete of the building.

A century-old building, battered by wind, sun, and rain, definitely could not withstand external modifications.

With those cracks in place, Lynn immediately began swinging his sledgehammer.

To the labor chants of "Eighty! Forty!", Lynn soon smashed out a hole large enough for a person to crawl through.

Lynn did not know how Batman had gotten in, but he had always favored solving problems with violence.

"See that? This is called overcoming skill with strength. True wisdom!"

After sending the cat in first, Lynn crawled inside after it.

"Whoa, what an eye-opener!"

Lynn had originally thought that after crawling into this "nonexistent thirteenth floor," he would find all kinds of bloody scenes hidden in the darkness.

But the reality was that while there was indeed blood, the overall layout looked more like a museum.

"Owl Museum..."

Warm yellow lighting, an overall brownish-yellow palette, the walls, the carpets, the edges of the tables, the shape of the chandeliers...

Everywhere was the image of a flat-faced owl with folded wings and half-open eyes.

No matter how one looked at it, this was absolutely not a decoration that could have been completed overnight.

Just like the Wayne Family's accumulation and inheritance over generations, the Court of Owls must have spent decades arranging this place as well.

Lynn walked up to a wall. It was the strongest proof of bloodshed in this strange museum-like room.

Five people hung on the wall, already turned into something like specimens.

The five were arranged in a row, hanging on the wall with expressions and poses of extreme agony. Between the fourth and fifth people, there was an empty human-shaped space.

Beneath those specimens were their names from before they died. Without exception, they were all named Wayne.

And in that blank space, there was only a nameplate.

It bore the name of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather.

"Damn... no wonder Batman took the bait so easily. If my name were Wayne, I couldn't stand seeing this either!"

With the little cat's help, Lynn quickly searched the area and found another clue on the wall behind a long dining table on the other side of the floor.

[Bruce Wayne will die tomorrow!]

A line of dried blood writing.

So the old Batman had not exactly walked into this trap voluntarily. He had been forced to take part in this game. Whether they truly knew his other identity or not, as a descendant of the Wayne Family, he knew this was something he had to face.

"Then everything finally makes sense.

Now, it was time to find the old Batman. Hopefully, he hadn't starved to death yet."

Whether he was strong or not was beside the point. After five or six days without food or water, an ordinary person definitely would not be able to endure it.

As for where to look, wasn't that simple? Wherever Batman's great-grandfather was buried, that was where he should go~

In a gloomy, dark, lightless cavern, a droplet of seeping water slowly gathered above the smooth rock wall, then fell.

There was no crisp dripping sound. The droplet was swallowed by a man with his mouth open.

After wiping his mouth and rubbing his slightly stiff neck, Batman's nostrils flared as he let out a soft sigh. He walked expertly to the side and reached out to push open a door embedded in the wall.

In an instant, blinding light shone through the crack in the door. Batman entered, and after he closed it, the place fell back into darkness.

This was beneath Gotham. No one knew when the Court of Owls had turned this place into an enormous labyrinth.

After Batman was lured here, he became lost within it, trapped in the maze like the Minotaur.

For more than a hundred years, people had constantly been trapped in the labyrinth by the Court, eventually suffering mental breakdowns and dying. Their condition within the maze had been photographed and hung on its walls, both as a display and a threat. There was also a room in the maze filled with coffins, where the Court's assassins—the Talons—were stored.

Talons were cold-blooded killers created by the Court. They looked like humanoid assassins with owl heads.

Batman had fought them before. They had clearly suffered injuries severe enough to paralyze them or make them pass out from pain, yet it did not affect their movements at all. Like machines, they remained aggressive.

They definitely were not machines. Batman, who had tested their faces with his fists, could confirm that.

There were quite a few Talons here now, and Batman did not dare wake them. But the one that had followed him remained hidden deep in the darkness, forcing Batman to stay constantly alert as his mind endured relentless torment.

Absolute brightness and absolute darkness were the only two states that alternated within this enormous labyrinth, leaving people mentally exhausted.

And on the walls of this room hung countless photographs of people who had once been imprisoned here. They opened their mouths in agony, screaming silently, their bloodshot eyes glaring viciously ahead as they met the gaze of everyone who looked at the photos...

Batman himself was among them. The last row of photographs showed him after entering the labyrinth.

This was the funeral prepared for him.

One photo each day recorded the changes in Batman's condition over the past few days.

Those Court members hiding behind the scenes must have been laughing greedily and madly. Even Batman himself could see it: his condition had grown worse and worse, gradually nearing collapse.

Without a sound, the bright lights went out, and the labyrinth deep underground once again fell into complete darkness.

In the endless cycle of light and darkness, Batman, lacking food and water, had begun to experience some troubling symptoms. But he could not rest, not even for a minute.

A living Talon was still hidden somewhere in the labyrinth, waiting for a chance to attack him.

With his back pressed tightly against the wall, the darkness gave Batman a chance to strike back.

He had secretly removed the camera's battery and motherboard, along with some other small parts he had found. He had also located a weak point in the labyrinth.

Now, all he needed was an opportunity—an opportunity to use the bomb he had assembled to take out his enemy!

Otherwise, if no new photograph appeared tomorrow, his plan would fail.

As though all his strength had been drained away, Batman leaned against the wall and slowly slumped onto the floor in exhaustion. His head hung low, his hands half-braced against the ground, but he could no longer support himself enough to stand.

A faint breeze drifted over. Batman's expression did not change, and he made no movement. He merely clenched his teeth slightly.

In an instant, a brilliant light flashed on!

Batman closed his eyes, rose, and threw a punch!

Bang!

Someone caught his fist.

Too late!

Then let's die together...

His other hand had already reached behind him, ready to activate the bomb, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice on the verge of tears.

"You heartless bastard, I came to save you out of kindness and nearly got my kidneys stabbed through. Instead of thanking me, you actually wanted to set off a firecracker and blow me up?!"

Huh?!

"Lynn!"

Batman cried out, then his legs went weak and he slumped to the floor.

And standing before him, covered in blood—who else could it be but Lynn?

P.S. Three chapters tomorrow. Please vote.

The Court of Owls arc was generally more horror-oriented, and it was also a setting-related addition after the reboot, at least in my view. So I made a few plot changes that would not affect the reading experience.

There would definitely be more plot changes in the future. Otherwise, why write a novel? Wouldn't I just be copying the comics?

Everyone, feel free to keep reading. If you have questions, doubts, or complaints, bring them up.