The Wayne family, evidently, didn't have a strict rule about not speaking at the dinner table—though perhaps this only applied to family. After all the commotion, Bruce was clearly hungry. He took another bite of steak, followed by a sip of soup, and replied to Alfred.
"That's why I messaged Lucius in the car. The equipment should be arriving soon."
When did you send a message?!
Avery was utterly amazed by Bruce's efficiency, resolve, and commitment to his nightly patrols. Gotham was incredibly fortunate to have a workaholic like Batman.
Not long after, they were joined by Wayne Enterprises' current CEO and technical director—Lucius Fox.
It's often said that behind every successful man is someone silently supporting him. In Bruce Wayne's case, the fact that he could zip around in a tight suit fighting criminals without losing life or limb—much less a single arm or leg—was largely thanks to Lucius Fox, who bore the brunt of the burden for him.
For instance, using company funds to create all kinds of high-tech gear.
What kind of twisted joke is this? The CEO misappropriating funds at the chairman's orders, all for the purpose of playing caped crusader. Zorro should jump out of the movies and take responsibility for this mess.
When Lucius arrived, his face was dark—no, that's wrong—his face was always dark. But even so, it was clear from his expression that he wasn't in a great mood. Understandably so—being bossed around after work wasn't exactly something anyone would be happy about.
"I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten your nocturnal duties. When I heard Wayne Manor was burned to the ground by its owner, I thought you'd finally realized how challenging this line of work is."
As Lucius closed the door behind him, he muttered under his breath. Just as he finished speaking, his gaze fell on Avery, who was standing quietly in the corner. Curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "And who might this be?"
Avery stepped forward at just the right moment, smiling politely and giving a nod of acknowledgment. "Avery Pennyworth. Alfred is my father."
Lucius suddenly realized. "Ah, you just returned from England?"
He remembered that the old butler had a son studying at the University of London.
"No, actually, I came back from the Serengeti Plains in northwest Tanzania. I was originally there filming a pride of lions," Avery replied with a smile. He wasn't lying—he had simply left out certain truths. As for whether he had later gone to Metropolis or what he did there, well, that was another secret entirely.
"Filming lions? I thought I heard you were studying medicine," Lucius said, scratching his head in confusion. The leap in topics was a bit jarring—did the University of London even offer veterinary studies?
If Avery knew what Lucius was thinking, he would have promptly and seriously corrected him. But since he didn't, he simply offered a humble and nonchalant response: "Just a hobby."
A hobby involving running with lions—what an extraordinary young man.
At this point, Bruce, who had been standing nearby—whose own "hobby" happened to involve being a masked vigilante in a cape—couldn't take it anymore. "Hold on. If I remember correctly, You came here to deliver my equipment, right? Where's the gear?"
Both Lucius and Avery immediately fell silent. They exchanged a glance, catching the disapproving look Batman was giving them, and quickly decided to get down to business.
Lucius then led the group to an underground garage beneath Wayne Tower. From the outside, the garage seemed entirely ordinary, no different from any other parking area. But once Lucius entered the code and unlocked it, the stark contrast between the inside and outside became apparent.
Of course, this wasn't to say the decor was particularly luxurious. In fact, this place was just a temporary spot to store equipment. But what was inside...
"That's incredible."
Bruce gazed at the Batmobile with admiration. The sleek design, the black body reflecting a glow like a shimmering night sky—it was even better than the first version he had driven. He could almost imagine the sensation of racing down the streets in this magnificent machine.
In contrast, Avery's reaction was much more reserve. He had no particular fondness for vehicles. His basic requirements were simple: as long as it wasn't dirty, broken, and could run, it was fine. As for speed… if it really came down to it, magic would be faster anyway.
Alfred, on the other hand, remained calm and composed throughout.
Without wasting any time, Bruce donned the new Batsuit, cloaking himself in the black armor of the Dark Knight. He equipped himself with the grappling gun, Batarangs, utility belt, and signal transmitters. Soon after, he set off on his mission.
In an instant, Batman's figure vanished from sight. Lucius, having completed his task, headed home as well, leaving only Avery and Alfred behind.
The old butler glanced at his son, confident enough to entrust the task of assisting Batman to Avery. With that, Alfred quietly retreated to his room for some well-deserved rest.
Truth to be told, staying up late all the time was becoming too much for the aging man. With his son now by his side, when else would be a better time to take a break?
Avery: "..."
A moment later, with a soft "click," the switch was flipped, and the surroundings plunged into darkness.
Avery closed the garage door from the inside, walking step by step toward the desk. In the darkness, the faint radiation from the electronics cast a soft glow on his handsome face. He put on the earpiece, placed his hand on the keyboard, and focused intently on the computer screen. From there, he began monitoring Batman's location via the tracker, ready to relay information to him based on his movements.
"Third alley on the left, straight ahead. A woman is surrounded by a gang of thugs. If you go now, you'll make it in time."
Avery's cool voice came through the communicator.