Bruce looked down at him from less than half a meter away. The air between them bristled with tension, neither willing to back down.
Yang Ming did not retreat. He sat in the overly soft armchair with his legs crossed, tapping his knee rhythmically with his right index finger.
"Young Master Wayne," Yang Ming said, breaking the silence in the study.
"Your curiosity is misplaced. Instead of studying how I use my muscles, you should spend more time looking out the window."
Yang Ming raised his left hand and pointed at the study's broad floor-to-ceiling window. Gotham's relentless rain wound its way down the bulletproof glass, breaking the distant city skyline into fragments.
"You investigated my background and demanded to know why I supplied Falcone with medical equipment. Fine, let me ask you something." Yang Ming lowered his hand and leaned forward, clasping his hands over his knees.
"How do you see Gotham? And how do you see Carmine Falcone?"
Bruce straightened and folded his arms across his chest.
"Gotham is rotten to the core." Bruce spoke rapidly, answering without hesitation.
"Corruption, greed, crime. Falcone is the biggest source of infection. He buys off the police commissioner, controls local judges, and floods the streets of the East End with drugs and weapons. He's the source of all evil, the cancer this city most needs cut out."
This was Batman at the beginning of his career. Full of fire, armed with the martial skills he had brought back from the Himalayas and a determination to punish evil, he saw the world in black and white.
Yang Ming chuckled, shook his head, and reached for the glass of water on the coffee table.
"The textbook answer. Out of a hundred, I'd give you ten. And those ten are only because you contributed