"Then who is Stuart?"
Just as William asked the question, a system notification popped up.
[Congratulations on completing a high-difficulty mission and successfully helping the amnesiac girl regain her memories. You have received 1 use of "Save Access" and 1 Marking Beacon.]
With trembling hands, William opened the character panel and moved his newly acquired beacon onto Stuart's portrait.
Slade Wilson Affection: Four and a half stars. Assessment: An interesting guy. I don't dislike him.
"Why is it Deathstroke?!"
"That's what I'd like to ask you. Surely you understand now why I chose to keep my distance." Alfred took the towel the bartender offered him and dried his soaking body.
The answer was right in front of him, but William still couldn't believe it.
Where had all these coincidences come from? Why had Batman and Deathstroke fallen into the river on the same night, drifted to the same place, and even been hauled ashore by the same people-and both lost their memories?
What William didn't know was that on the night Batman was attacked, Deathstroke had been the bait tasked with luring him into the Mad Hatter's trap.
The two had chased each other by car all the way from the city to the ACE chemical plant in the old industrial district.
The Batmobile had flipped Deathstroke's jeep at a turn, and their vehicular battle had become a deadly fight on foot.
Until the Mad Hatter activated his mind-disruption device, interrupting their fight to the death.
The Mad Hatter's plan had been to first order Batman and Deathstroke to kill themselves, but their formidable mental strength exceeded his expectations. Neither obeyed his commands under the device's interference. After a brief pause, they even resumed their fight on instinct.
They fought their way from the ground onto a building, then leaped onto a water tower along the metal pipes connected to the chemical plant. Finally, exhausted, they fell from the top of the tower and vanished into the surging waters of the Gotham River.
After hearing Alfred's account, William hesitated for a few seconds before looking up at the bartender.
"Get me a drink, too!"
His voice trembled.
"That'll be three dollars."
"Put it on Mr. Pennyworth's tab."
Before long, a glass of whiskey was pushed in front of him.
He swirled the ice cubes in the glass and took a small sip.
All he wanted to know now was where the real Batman was.
Alfred raised his wrist and glanced at the time.
"It's about time. I think we should go meet him."
Meanwhile, back at the rented apartment, Floyd held his gun on a dark figure that had appeared in the corner.
Cold wind howled through the open window, whipping a serrated cape through the air.
"Goddammit... I've had enough of this mind-bending plot. Why is there another bat, and who are you working for?"
"Put down the gun. This is your final warning."
Click!
The sound of the light switch broke the tension, and the sudden glare made Floyd squeeze his eyes shut.
"Thank God you're finally here. Another bat showed up..."
At the sight of William, Floyd breathed a sigh of relief. That once-loathsome face suddenly looked so warm and friendly to him.
But when he turned his gaze back to the corner, he froze.
There was no Batman, only a strange man wearing a knitted cap. As for what he had imagined was a fluttering cape, it was merely a curtain with its hem chewed to shreds by rats.
He had hoped someone would explain, but no one did.
Everyone was busy with their own tasks.
William opened the bathroom door and dragged out the double, who was still wailing and begging for mercy.
"Please don't kill me. Please..."
"Calm down. No one wants to kill you. You'll be free again soon."
Under bewildered stares, the double was stripped of his clothes, which were then put on the stranger. Once he was fully dressed, the man finally pulled off his head covering.
The double blinked blankly.
"Why does this guy look just like me? Did you kidnap another double?"
Alfred answered with a surprise knife-hand strike.
The old man caught the unconscious double in his arms.
William turned his gaze to the young man and studied him closely. Even the double's surgical scars had been reproduced exactly on his face.
He's Bruce Wayne? The guy I've spent nearly a month looking for?
There was none of the heart-pounding drama he had imagined for their meeting. Everything simply fell into place.
In fact, even if he had done nothing, Alfred and Bruce together would have been more than capable of thwarting Harold's scheme.
At their core, both sides were even using the same strategy-Harold was replacing Batman with a double, so Batman could impersonate the double to infiltrate the enemy's ranks. The only difference was that William's plan had gone off course from the very beginning.
But that didn't stop the overall plan from moving forward, because the real Batman was already in position.
Talon's task was to bring the double back to Harold. All they needed to do was run through the original plan again.
Bruce and Slade had similar skull structures, but the details around their brows and eyes were very different.
The corners of Bruce's mouth naturally turned downward, while Slade's curved upward, giving him a permanent sneer. Bruce's eyes were more deeply set, gleaming beneath the shadows, while Slade's stare always held an inscrutable, sinister edge.
Fine, in hindsight, the differences really were obvious-but that was only because William had never seen Bruce Wayne before!
William felt that all of this should be blamed on those damned coincidences.
"William Hans."
As though noticing William's stare, Bruce Wayne turned his gaze toward him.
"Thank you for everything you've done for me."
"Your face says otherwise." William shrugged. The words hardly sounded convincing to him. Bruce's brow was furrowed, his expression as hard as iron. He clearly resented William's meddling.
"I mean every word. Your actions drew almost all of Harold's attention."
"And ours as well."
With a cigar between his lips, Alfred straightened Bruce's clothes, his movements as meticulous as though he were tending to a child about to enlist.
Of course, Casey had the least to say throughout the entire process.
The girl's brain simply couldn't handle questions that complicated.
"Stuart isn't Batman... so William isn't an evil scientist... but why was Stuart pretending to be Batman... why is there another Batman here... Bruce Wayne, why does that name sound so familiar?"
Once he was nearly ready, Bruce walked over to the mirror and examined his face.
"Master Wayne, are there any other details we need to add?"
"My face is too clean. I need some injuries to make it convincing."
Before he had even finished speaking, he punched himself hard in the face, making William frown behind him.
Is he this brutal even to himself?
Spitting out bloody saliva, Bruce rubbed his badly swollen cheekbone.
"Here's the plan. Mercenary, you're responsible for keeping him safe."
Bruce smoothly took command from William and left the double in Floyd's care.
Next, the real Bruce Wayne would pose as the "double" and break free of his restraints while Talon pursued him.
Alfred would then fire at Talon as planned, attempting to "take back" the hostage.
The repeated tug-of-war would make the act more convincing and, in turn, improve the operation's chances of success.
With the plan settled, everyone took their assigned roles. They turned off the apartment's lights and plunged into the late-night rain with the "double."
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