The Tyrant's Daily Life

Gotham rarely had a clear day.

Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and Chu Men leaned against the large bed, letting out a long yawn.

He kicked off the duvet.

Raven walked over carrying a basin of water, draped with three warmed towels.

Jay knelt by the bedside, holding a set of neatly ironed clothes in her hands.

Chu Men picked up a towel to wipe his face, tossing it away casually, and Raven quickly reached out to catch it.

"Boring," Chu Men muttered.

He stood up and spread his arms.

Jay stepped forward, expertly helping him put on his shirt and buttoning it up one by one.

The muffled sound of high heels stepping on the carpet came from outside the door.

Lark pushed the door open, holding a thick stack of folders in her hands.

She had changed into a sharp black business suit today, her hair coiled at the back of her head, making her look like a Wall Street executive.

"Master," Lark knelt on one knee.

Chu Men walked over to the sofa and sat down.

"Speak."

Lark stood up and opened the first folder.

"As of six o'clock this morning, the weekly profits of the gangs in all districts of Gotham have been handed over in full. A total of one hundred and forty million US dollars in cash, two tons of gold bars, and thirty-two property deeds."

She turned a page and read out a few names.

"The Falcone Family paid the fastest. That old bastard Carmine had people hand over control of the South End docks overnight, too. He also sent a pair of seventeen-year-old twin sisters, claiming it was to help you pass the time."

"Where are they?" Chu Men leaned against the back of the sofa.

"I had them go wash dishes in the kitchen. Coming from unknown origins, they aren't qualified to step foot on the top floor," Lark said in a flat tone.

Chu Men chuckled softly.

"For the arms business in the North End, the bosses couldn't scrape together enough cash, so they mortgaged their three smuggling routes to us. The territory in the East End that formerly belonged to Maroni has now been entirely replaced by our people. The 'East Side Renovation Plan' you ordered previously—meaning the cleanup of vagrants and drug addicts from the streets—is currently progressing very quickly."

Lark closed the folder and looked at Chu Men.

"Those gangs are providing both money and manpower, organizing thousands of thugs to sweep the streets and fix streetlights. Anyone who dares to slack off gets their leader's hand chopped off on the spot."

Chu Men grabbed an apple from the coffee table and took a bite.

"Is that it?" Chu Men chewed the apple, his tone dripping with deep disappointment.

Lark froze for a moment.

"The accounts are fine, with ninety-nine percent paid in full. No one dares to keep anything back."

"I'm not asking about the accounts," Chu Men tossed the leftover apple core into the trash can. "I'm asking, wasn't there a single one who wanted to rebel? Not one secretly conspiring to poison me, or plant a bomb under the car?"

Lark lowered her head.

Chu Men sighed.

He had actually been counting on a few thorny rebels to jump out and let him stretch his muscles.

As it turned out, they all became turtles hiding in their shells.

Chu Men stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and overlooked the city.

It seems it still has to be Batman and the others.

"There is one more thing, Master." Lark opened the last, extremely thin folder.

"Speak."

"There is a man claiming to be an agent for LexCorp in Metropolis who has requested an audience with you for three consecutive days. I had people chase him away the past two days, but he came again this morning, and he brought a so-called 'Letter of Intent for Cooperation'."

Chu Men turned around.

LexCorp.

That bald guy who was running his mouth on TV a few days ago.

"Lex Luthor?" Chu Men raised an eyebrow. "He certainly has some nerve."

"Would you like me to dispose of him?"

"Have you been drinking?"

"No."

Chu Men let out a sneer. ...

Gotham International Airport.

A jet taxied down the runway, finally coming to a steady stop on the private tarmac.

The boarding stairs lowered.

Mercy Graves stepped out in front in black high heels, carrying a silver metal briefcase in her hand.

Seven fully bulletproof black SUVs were already waiting on both sides of the red carpet.

Over a dozen bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses stood at attention.

Lex Luthor walked out of the cabin.

He wore a well-tailored gray suit. Instead of rushing down the stairs, he stood on the upper landing and took a deep breath.

The air in Gotham was a mix of industrial waste, a salty ocean tang, and the perpetual moldy stench of a place that rarely saw the sun.

"This city smells like rot." Lex brushed off his cuff.

"Sir, the convoy is ready. Are we heading straight to the Gotham branch?" Mercy asked, standing at the foot of the stairs.

Lex walked down the steps and got into the backseat of the stretched SUV in the middle.

Mercy followed him in, placing the silver briefcase on her knees.

The car doors closed, and the convoy drove out of the airport.

"How is our agent progressing?" Lex poured himself a glass of sparkling water.

Mercy swiped across her tablet.

"Not well. The agent went to the Iceberg Lounge for three consecutive days and couldn't even get past the front door. That mutant named Chu Men seems to have zero interest in interacting with us. The woman under him called Lark has a very tough attitude."

Lex took a sip of water, and instead of getting angry, he chuckled.

"A very typical upstart psychology."

He leaned back against the silk headrest, watching the dilapidated streetscape recede outside the window.

"He suddenly acquired powerful strength, crushed the old order with violence, and established his own little kingdom. He is currently in a state of extreme self-inflation. In his eyes, Gotham's gangs, the police, and even Superman are all stepping stones for him to prove his might."

Lex twirled his glass.

"He is leaving us hanging because he thinks LexCorp is no different from those gang bosses kneeling on the ground. He needs to use this method to display his arrogance."

"Then what should we do? Keep sending our agent to be turned away at the door?" Mercy asked.

"No. The agent's rank is too low; it doesn't suit this new king's appetite." Lex's gaze turned cold. "I'm going to see him in person."

"Sir, that's too dangerous." Mercy frowned deeply. "We haven't fully analyzed his energy model yet."

"Mercy, you don't understand."

Lex put down his cup.

"The more someone suffers from extreme self-inflation, the easier they are to control. As long as you provide them with what they want."

"What does he want? He already owns all of Gotham."

"Gotham?" Lex scoffed. "What is Gotham? Just a muddy puddle. He defeated Superman, and the whole world is watching him. Do you think he'll be satisfied with being a gang boss in this dump?"

Lex pointed at the silver briefcase on Mercy's knees.

"He'll get bored. The thrill of violence is fleeting; when no one dares to resist him, he'll find it utterly dull. And I can bring him a new kind of fun."

The convoy drove into the city center.

High above the buildings.

Diana stood atop a gargoyle, her red and blue armor looking dull under the gloomy clouds.

She watched Lex's convoy drive past on the street below, not pursuing them.

The teachings of Themyscira dictated that a warrior should never strike blindly when the situation was unclear.

Diana jumped down from the gargoyle and landed in a narrow alley.

At the mouth of the alley, two lookouts from the Falcone Family were smoking.

"Did you hear? Last night old Carmine handed over the docks in the South End too."

"No shit, how could he not? Those three of the Penguin's didn't even leave ash behind. Who dares mess with that big shot at the Iceberg Lounge now? I heard he eats live human brains every morning."

"Stop talking nonsense."

The two of them were complaining.

Diana stepped out from the shadows.

The two lookouts startled, their hands instinctively reaching for the guns at their waists.

"Who are you? What do you want?" one of them stammered out.

Diana frowned.

"I have a few questions for you." Diana's voice was calm. "Chu Men, is he at the Iceberg Lounge right now?"

The two lookouts exchanged glances.

"You dare say that big shot's name to his face? Have you got a death wish?"

"Answer me." Diana took a step forward.

"Here! It's definitely here!" The informant swallowed hard. "What are you doing? Don't drag us down into this, we don't know you!"

Diana ignored them further.

Putting force into her legs, her entire body launched upward into the air and leaped onto the adjacent rooftop.

The two informants stared at the direction of her disappearance and collapsed onto the ground, unable to recover their wits for a long time.