Money Power! An S-Rank Reward for Checking In with Bruce Wayne!

The conference room on the top floor of Wayne Enterprises.

The air seemed to have hardened into lead, weighing on everyone's heart.

The technical directors, usually so full of themselves, had gone deathly pale, as though their souls had been drained away.

Link's words about "gardeners" and "weeds" had struck like a hammer, shattering the scientific beliefs and moral principles they had clung to.

They looked at the smiling young man before them as if they were staring at a devil risen from the abyss.

"Mr. Link..."

Lucius Fox took a deep breath, trying to break the suffocating silence.

He wanted to say something—to argue, to demand answers—but against the other man's mad, internally consistent logic, every word felt feeble.

Link gave him no chance to gather his thoughts.

He stood, casually straightened the collar of his suit, and swept his gaze over the faces around the room.

"It seems Wayne Enterprises isn't very interested in my proposal."

His tone was as light as if he were discussing the weather. He even looked a little disappointed.

"That's fine. Business only works when both sides want it."

With that, he turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Lucius spoke up at once.

He couldn't let Link walk out like this.

Dangerous ideas aside, the technological vision in that proposal held an irresistible appeal for Wayne Enterprises.

Even if they didn't work with him, they couldn't let it fall into a competitor's hands—especially Lex Luthor's.

"Mr. Link, your proposal... We need time to evaluate it internally." Lucius chose his words carefully, trying to buy time.

"My time is valuable, Mr. Fox."

Link stopped, but didn't turn around.

"I came here in good faith to seek a partnership, not to be evaluated. If Wayne Enterprises doesn't want a completely secure Gotham, I imagine the Pentagon or Stark Industries would be happy to pay for that 'security.'"

An undisguised threat.

And one that struck Lucius exactly where it hurt.

As Lucius struggled to decide what to do, Bruce Wayne, who had been playing the playboy all this time, suddenly rose.

He walked slowly up to Link. His eyes, half-lidded until now, had turned sharp as a hawk's, as if he meant to see straight through to Link's soul.

"Mr. Link, your vision is... interesting."

Bruce wore his trademark devil-may-care smile as he offered his hand.

"Personally, I have high hopes for your company. I hope we'll have a chance to work together."

He was lying.

Link could feel how steady and strong the offered hand was, its palm bearing the thin calluses left by years of training.

The handshake looked like business etiquette. In truth, it was a discreet physical examination.

Bruce wanted to gauge Link's muscle density, reaction speed, perhaps even the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Harley Quinn instinctively stepped forward, her hand already moving toward her waist.

Link gave her a reassuring look.

Meeting Bruce's searching gaze with a smile, he took his hand.

Warm, dry, and full of strength.

Now.

System, check in!

[Check-in target detected: Bruce Wayne (Batman)...]

[Checking in...]

[Check-in successful!]

[Congratulations, host! You have received an S-rank reward: Money Power (Infinite Black Card)!]

[Congratulations, host! You have received an S-rank reward: Gotham Knight Fighting Style (complete version)!]

Boom!

Two unimaginably vast torrents of information burst through the floodgates and crashed into Link's mind!

One held boundless knowledge of money, capital, and the workings of a financial empire. From manipulating stock markets to building multinational conglomerates to exploiting the rules to fleece people across the globe, the philosophy of wealth amassed by generations of the Wayne family was branded into his soul by sheer force.

The other held memories of decades of relentlessly brutal training.

The essence of more than a hundred martial arts styles had been stripped down through countless life-and-death fights, then fused into an art of violence designed for one purpose: subduing an enemy as efficiently as possible.

His muscles screamed. His bones trembled. This was Batman's lonely, agonizing path to becoming who he was!

The impact was so fierce that Link's awareness faltered for an instant.

Yet his face still held a flawless smile, and not the slightest ripple disturbed his gaze.

His grip on Bruce's hand remained just right.

"I look forward to it too, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce Wayne's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He had learned nothing.

The man's hand was smooth, and his heartbeat was as steady as a precision instrument.

Link was hiding far more than Bruce had imagined.

Link released his hand and left the conference room with Harley, under Lucius's conflicted gaze.

Only when the elevator doors slid shut, cutting off every line of sight, did Link's body suddenly sway. Cold sweat soaked his back in an instant.

"Sweetie? What's wrong?"

Harley caught him, worry written all over her face.

"I'm fine."

Link shook his head and leaned against the cold elevator wall, breathing hard.

A light unlike any before shone in his eyes.

It was the light of ambition intertwined with power.

As he stepped out of Wayne Tower, the glaring sunlight made him narrow his eyes.

He opened his hand.

A pitch-black metal card lay quietly in his palm. It bore no markings and seemed to absorb every ray of light.

The Infinite Black Card.

It was no debit card. It represented the "authority" to buy anything in the world.

Link looked up at Wayne Tower, soaring into the clouds, and a wild grin curved his lips.

Bruce Wayne...

Your money and your fighting style are mine now.

Soon, your Gotham will be mine too.