"So you just came back like that?"
In the newly excavated basement of Old Dad's General Store, Zuo Ci looked at the Riddler, who had come rushing back, and wasn't sure what to say.
He'd figured that, as a criminal genius, even if the Riddler couldn't coordinate an attack from inside and help catch them all in one fell swoop, he should at least be able to dig up some classified intel.
But nope. He'd barely gotten there before they sent him packing. Unbelievable.
Sure, he'd picked up a little information, but it wasn't nearly enough.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm an intellectual. I don't have your terrifying combat abilities.
With them backing me into a corner like that, what could I do except agree? Turn against them on the spot?"
Despite apparently having botched the job, the Riddler remained utterly relaxed. He even helped himself to a bottle of beer from a nearby shelf.
"Since you're so relaxed, I'm guessing you already have an idea?"
Zuo Ci wasn't the sort of brainless boss who immediately jumped to conclusions. There had to be a reason the Riddler looked so confident.
"I do love dealing with smart people."
The Riddler smiled, took a sip of beer, then settled comfortably against the leather sofa nearby.
"Put it this way: their assignment for me was to join your side, secretly gather intelligence, and find your weaknesses.
So I thought, since they're looking for something, why don't we manufacture an answer for them?"
Perhaps he was concerned for his own safety, or perhaps he'd taken Zuo Ci's intelligence and that damned book into account. Either way, the Riddler didn't speak in riddles, but explained it plainly.
"So you're saying we should invent some weaknesses for them?"
"Exactly."
The Riddler hadn't expected Zuo