At the edge of the East End school's playground, Dick Grayson crouched on the ground, drawing lines with a piece of chalk.
"Over there. Right, a little farther right." He directed the work, checking the alignment. "Jason, the line needs to be straight! What are you drawing, an EKG?"
"I'm not a construction crew!" Jason crouched at the other end, his chalk tracing a crooked curve. "Close enough. It's just hopscotch."
"Even hopscotch needs rules." Dick stood up, hands on his hips, and surveyed the admittedly crooked line. "Rules, understand? Without rules, how do you decide who wins?"
Jason rolled his eyes and was about to argue when he spotted a black sedan slowly pulling up outside the school gates. The door opened, and an elderly man with graying hair stepped out in a suit.
Leaning on an ebony walking stick, he waited outside the gate. The officer on duty approached and asked him a few questions, motioned for him to stay where he was, then headed into the school.
"Mr. Grayson," the officer called. "There's an old... gentleman outside who'd like to speak with you."
"A gentleman?"
Dick glanced outside. The elderly man was smiling at him, then gave him a nod.
"Who's this guy?" Jason tossed the chalk up and down in his hand. "Another teammate you recruited?"
"Of course not." Dick shrugged. "I don't need Alfred the Second."
He opened the iron gate and stepped outside. The elderly man turned toward him and asked with gentle courtesy, "Sorry to bother you. Are you Mr. Dick Grayson?"
"That's me."
Dick nodded and casually brushed the chalk dust off his fingers. "And you are...?"
"My name is Theodore Galloway." The elderly man took a business card from his inside jacket pocket and offered it to him. "Executive chairman of