Harold Wayne paced back and forth in the villa's third-floor sitting room. A tall young man sat on the sofa opposite him.
"How many times have I warned you? You cannot screw up at a critical moment! If the police had gotten there first today instead of me, do you know what horrors would have followed?"
"You'd have had to pay off the police?"
Harold was momentarily speechless. That answer wasn't wrong.
"But there are always people money can't buy! James Gordon, for instance..."
He had originally intended to mention William too, but then remembered that he already had leverage over him.
"It's all because you've kept me under house arrest... Damn it, all I can do every day is kill time watching adult channels!"
Moonlight filtered through the dark clouds and illuminated the young man's face.
Stitches, swollen surgical scars-the traces of plastic surgery had yet to fade completely from his face, and a soaking in the Gotham River had only made things worse.
Harold worried whether the double would have a flawless face in time for the Equity Transfer Ceremony in two weeks.
The sitting room door opened, and Harold's private medical team filed in. They took out medical cases of various sizes and gathered around the young man to reduce the swelling and clean the wounds on his face.
Once they had wrapped a long strip of gauze around his head, their work was done. Before leaving, the medical staff left several bottles of antibiotics on the table.
"Take your medication on time. If you need anything, just ask. As long as you don't go outside, I'll do my best to accommodate you."
"I'd like to give my little buddy some relief. Bring me a few magazines, please. I hear there's a girl named Tita Vantis who's pretty hot lately."
At this request, Harold knitted his brows and drew a deep breath with a pained expression.
That sentence had unquestionably violated his ears.
"Understood. Someone will bring them shortly."
Harold slammed the door shut.
After he disappeared around a corner in the corridor, a black figure dropped down from the hallway ceiling.
He gently turned the handle, but the door wouldn't open. After a moment's hesitation, he knocked.
"Coming, coming! You brought the stuff already?"
The door opened to reveal a stark-naked man.
Bandages were wrapped around his head, his left hand held pink lubricant, and a pack of tissues was tucked under his arm.
Batman reacted in an instant. A headbutt knocked the double unconscious, his toe hooked the lubricant before it hit the floor, and he lunged forward to catch the unconscious ace pilot in his arms.
The fellow had stripped himself completely naked, which saved quite a bit of time. Stuart slung the naked man onto his back and stuffed a lump of molding putty into the keyhole.
The bat slipped silently through the dark hallway. As he reached the second floor, flashlight beams suddenly appeared at the other end of the corridor.
"Be advised, two guards are approaching you."
Floyd's voice came through his earpiece. Stuart tapped his ear to signal him to continue.
"The safest place right now is the bathroom at the end of the hall... No, two guards just passed through there too!"
Panic crept into Floyd's voice, and he began to stammer. Stuart ignored him outright and turned his attention to the rows of knight armor lining both sides of the hallway.
A dozen seconds later, flashlight beams swept through the corridor.
"This house is seriously creepy. A huge spider crawled across the wall while I was in the bathroom just now!"
"That's nothing. I heard rustling inside one of the suits of armor on patrol earlier. At first I thought it was the wind, but then I found out it was a giant rat. It was this big!"
"I heard this house used to be haunted. The last owner was driven out with his whole family..."
"Shut up, Foster. Don't tell ghost stories at this hour!"
The two shared their frightening experiences in the old house as they patrolled, paying little attention to the armor on either side.
Past a sword-bearing knight; past a sword-bearing knight; past a sword-bearing Batman; past a sword-bearing knight...
Huh? Wait! What was that just now?
One of the guards abruptly stopped, his body rigid as he mechanically turned his head.
"Frank... I think I just saw something seriously terrifying!"
"What?! You'd better not be messing with me!"
"It looked like a ghoul... or maybe a demon... Its head was pointy... and it was holding... holding a sword... I don't know what the hell it was."
Neither man even dared look back. Their steps grew faster and faster, from a jog to a full sprint, until they vanished at the end of the corridor.
Stuart let out a long breath too.
This infiltration mission was unusual. He couldn't silently take out anyone who discovered him, so being exposed meant the plan had failed.
Fortunately, both night guards understood the art of being employees.
Why risk your life for a fixed salary?
Three minutes later, the bat cleared the high wall, slipped into the bushes, and dumped the unconscious naked man from beneath his cape in front of William.
"Why is he naked?"
"I refuse to answer that question."
Stuart really didn't want to recall that eye-searing sight. He briskly began taking off the Bat-Armor.
William also got busy with the preparations, dragging the unconscious double into the trunk and pulling the bandages off his face.
"This guy even had plastic surgery to impersonate you."
"Not surprising at all. If I were Harold, I'd have done the same."
Stuart stripped down to a pair of athletic boxer briefs and caught the bandages William tossed him. At the thought of wrapping that thing around his face, every muscle in his face twitched in protest.
Suppressing his disgust, Stuart wrapped the bandages around his face and climbed back over the high wall.
Before long, Floyd, who was keeping watch, sent word.
"The target is in position."
The first stage of the plan had gone smoothly. Hopefully, Stuart wouldn't give himself away during his stay.
As for William, he intended to start with the double and see whether he could turn him and extract some useful information.
"We're done."
Hearing those words, Floyd felt an immense weight lift from his shoulders, while their designated driver, Gordon, sagged in relief.
Ever since the plan began, Mr. Gordon had remained in the driver's seat, sitting bolt upright with his hands clenched around the steering wheel. He understood that what he was participating in broke the law, but he also understood that without extraordinary measures, they could never stand against capitalists like those behind Wayne Enterprises.
He had once firmly believed that procedural justice mattered more than just outcomes, but in Gotham, procedural justice meant there would never be justice at all.
Gordon had no intention of taking the double into custody. Instead, he left his disposition entirely to William.
He had only one request: keep the double alive if at all possible.
William naturally shared that intention. If they wanted to bring Harold to justice through the law, the double's testimony would be indispensable.
But persuading this stubborn man to abandon the darkness for the light would be no easy task.
After returning to the rental, they placed the double in a newly rented apartment not far from Bowery Street. William obtained some ether and had the fellow inhale it, ensuring that he would have a perfect strategy ready by the time the man woke up.
In the early hours of the morning, someone knocked on the rental's door.
Casey arrived as agreed, carrying the daily necessities her younger sister had packed for her.
During their previous meeting, her forcefulness and hostility had all but eliminated any room for negotiation. Kate, however, had offered an entirely different opinion.
"I don't think Mr. William is a bad person."
That single sentence had lowered Casey's guard.
Ever since childhood, her younger sister Kate had been the smarter twin. Though plagued by multiple psychological disorders, she was like someone deprived of sight who developed sharper hearing. God had bestowed upon her an exceptional ability to learn, the keen perception to see into people's hearts at a glance, and the insight to uncover the truth through layers of fog.
Rather than saying Casey trusted William, it would be more accurate to say she trusted her sister's judgment.
And so, swallowing her distaste, she appeared outside his door.
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