"Screeech-"
The brakes shrieked. A moving truck coated in East End sewer sludge, with half a skull spray-painted on its cargo box, pulled to a steady stop before the Wayne Royal Hotel's revolving doors, sheathed in pure gold leaf.
Mud and water from the truck's tires splattered unceremoniously across the hundred-thousand-dollar red Persian carpet at the entrance.
The tuxedoed doorman standing ramrod straight by the door turned green. Two security guards with bulges at their waists immediately pressed their radios and strode toward the truck.
"Sir, this is private property. Deliveries go around to the back-"
The cab door flew open with a bang. Yang Ming jumped down with half an unlit Marlboro between his lips.
Without so much as looking at the guards, he held a black-and-gold key card bearing the Wayne Family's subtle insignia between two fingers and slapped it against the doorman's chest.
"Highest clearance. I've booked the penthouse suite and the entire executive floor on twelve." Yang Ming adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.
"Now open the back and help my students out. If anyone objects to the mud on them, I guarantee he'll be guarding Arkham's gates tomorrow."
The moment the doorman recognized the card, cold sweat soaked his back. He bowed sharply at ninety degrees, his voice trembling. "Y-yes, sir! Welcome to the Wayne Royal Hotel!"
The cargo doors opened.
Dozens of filthy little mud-covered kids poked their heads out. Faced with the gleaming marble columns and enormous crystal chandelier, none dared move. The youngest girl clutched a rag doll and shrank behind Jason.
"Out." Yang Ming tapped the cargo box. "Anything you dirty goes on Master Wayne's tab."
Half an hour later.
Bang! Jessica kicked open the presidential suite's door and let out an outrageously theatrical howl. Without even taking off her shoes, she flung