"Let's go over the procedure one last time. What should you do first?"
"Admit that I've neglected my duties."
"And then?"
"Confess that I suffer from a serious mental illness and am no longer fit to serve as chairman, and commend Harold Wayne-that is, you-for his contributions to Gotham over the past year."
"And finally?"
Bruce picked up the equity transfer agreement.
"Sign this."
Harold slowly nodded twice.
"Complete this task, and Wayne Enterprises will cover all your expenses for the rest of your life. You'll never see your family again, but I can swear they'll receive the best possible treatment."
He raised his wrist to check the time one last time, then beckoned.
As the car door opened, the reporters waiting outside Wayne Tower swarmed forward. Camera flashes made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open. Harold pushed aside the microphones blocking his way.
"Mr. Harold Wayne, rumors have been circulating that you used illegal means to control your nephew, Bruce Wayne. Would you like to refute them?" Seeing that the reporter he had planted was about to be pushed away by security, Harold raised a hand to stop them.
"As you can see, he's right here in front of the cameras. No one is restricting his personal freedom."
"Mr. Wayne, over the past year, you've drastically cut Wayne Enterprises' spending on public welfare. Many people now describe you as a cold-blooded capitalist..."
Harold had no patience for a young reporter who asked questions without regard for the occasion. At a glance from him, two security guards roughly shoved the ill-mannered fellow aside.
"Let me reiterate my answer to that question! Real charity and public welfare aren't about handing out money and food. Over the past year, Wayne Enterprises has expanded production and hired more workers. I believe