After the Batplane rose into the night sky, the theater quickly receded behind them.
The recovery progress indicator still sat in the corner of the screen.
Forty-two percent.
Chen Mo watched it for a while, then suddenly lowered his head and tugged the layer of Black Suit over his chest outward.
Venom obligingly bulged out.
Don't ask why a camera could be perfectly concealed inside what was clearly a skintight suit.
That was how they Superheroes were: extradimensional pockets came standard.
Never mind anyone else-wasn't the belt on the Batman sitting beside him over the limit too?
The camera bag was pushed out and dropped into Chen Mo's hands with a clack.
Batman glanced sideways.
Chen Mo immediately hugged the bag.
Batman looked at him.
"Open it."
"That tone makes it sound like you're about to confiscate it. Learn a little conversational finesse." Chen Mo complained, but his hands were already unzipping the bag. "I spent ages lying over that vent. My back aches, my shoulders hurt, and I had to keep myself from falling into the Mad Hatter's teapot. A normal company would pay a height allowance for working conditions like that. Perhaps you'd be willing to add that to my press fee, Young Master Wayne?"
Chen Mo took out the camera.
The screen lit up.
The first photo had been taken from above. The Tea Party's long table sat crookedly in the center of the frame, with all the children's faces kept out of sight. Only chair backs, place cards, hat brims, and the position of the wiring box were visible.
The second showed the makeshift apparatus beside the Mad Hatter's hand. Cables tangled around it, and scraps of tea-soaked paper lay beside the loudspeaker.
The third captured the blue hair ribbon.
Once the metal clasp was magnified,