Eight in the morning, in the Presidential Suite on the top floor of the Wayne Royal Hotel.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Gotham City's morning still looked draped in a gray veil that could never be washed clean. Wearing a loose white bathrobe, Yang Ming lounged on a leather sofa, leisurely cutting into the Beef Wellington on his plate.
Beside him, Loki stood in an ill-fitting hotel Maid Uniform, holding a silver coffee pot with humiliation written all over her face.
"Fill it up." Yang Ming did not even raise his head.
Loki clenched her teeth and stiffly tilted the spout. Scalding black coffee poured into the Bone China Cup, splashing two drops onto the saucer. She was a princess of Asgard, the greatest mage in the Nine Realms, and now she was pouring coffee for a mortal!
Bang!
The suite's door was shoved open.
Jason Todd strode inside. The twelve-year-old boy had dark circles blacker than coal beneath his eyes, and a web of blood vessels covered their whites. He walked up to the dining table and slapped the tablet down beside Yang Ming's hand.
"What you asked for." Jason's voice was hoarse and dry from staying up all night.
Yang Ming set down his knife and fork and picked up the tablet. The screen was densely packed with information on thirty-eight street children, all neatly organized.
Row seven: Skinny Monkey, 11 years old, old fracture in the left tibia, aches in wet weather;
Row twelve: Gap-Tooth, 9 years old, severely allergic to peanut butter, goes into shock during a reaction;
Row twenty-five: Annie, 5 years old, parents died in an East End gang shootout, severe claustrophobia.
Even who had a habit of stealing and who could pick simple padlocks had been clearly marked.
Yang Ming's pupils contracted slightly behind