"Remember, don't talk to creepy strangers!"
Floyd warned her under his breath, turning his back on William. Lika obediently kept quiet.
"If you answer my question, we might find a way to wake up your dad's memories!"
"Really?"
The little girl peeked half her face out from behind Floyd's shoulder, only for a large hand to quickly push her back.
"What exactly are you trying to do? And what's with those lunatics outside?!"
Hearing William start to manipulate his daughter, Floyd finally lost his patience and grabbed a baseball bat from a shelf.
In the illusion, he had lost his usual roguish air, replaced by restraint and forbearance. That, too, had something to do with his subconscious.
To protect this hard-won happiness, he was willing to swallow any bitterness, as long as his daughter remained safe.
"You owe me an explanation!"
The more Floyd thought about it, the angrier he became, especially when his gaze swept over William's face.
But just as his blood began to boil and he teetered on the verge of losing control, a soft little hand gently touched his cheek.
"The man on the left is Commissioner James Gordon. Daddy said he's the last good cop in Gotham."
Gordon lowered his head and scratched it sheepishly.
"Then... what about the one on the right?"
"Uncle William is a bad guy."
"I knew he was no good!!!!"
"But Uncle William can help Daddy."
The bat rose, then fell. Floyd scratched his head in frustration.
The situation clearly defied common sense. Since Lika also said William could help, he might as well hear what the man had to say.
William gave the shortest possible account of what had happened. The result was obvious: Floyd didn't believe a word of it.
"You're saying I'm some broke mercenary from