While he had been considering revealing the information about kryptonite's effects on him to the public, he hadn't yet done so. How could this man possibly know? Could he be connected to the now-extinct Kryptonian civilization?
Avery calmly withdrew the kryptonite dagger while casually wiping off the blood. Then, with a touch of generosity, he cast a healing spell to close the wound.
In a matter-of-fact tone, he explained, "I acquired this dagger from that man who just fled. The information came through the same source. Now do you understand why I needed to kill him?"
Setting aside the ethical issue of killing, Superman quickly grasped the gravity of the situation. Realizing he had inadvertently let a dangerous person escape and even caused further complications, he immediately offered a sincere apology.
"I'm sorry."
Avery's response was cool and detached. "Your wound is healed. You should leave. Gotham doesn't welcome outsiders."
And so, barely recovered from his injury, Superman was left standing there, dumbfounded, before reluctantly flying away.
Seeing that the matter was resolved, Aquaman also silently slipped back into the ocean.
People with superpower often led solitary lives. Without significant reasons to unite, they might never cross paths again.
Tonight, however, Gotham was destined to be a city without rest.
Many people who witnessed the day's events—buildings collapsing, roaring tidal waves, two mighty dragons coiling through the sky, and the earth-shattering battle between a group of enigmatic individuals—swore they would never forget what they had seen.
Countless photos captured during the chaos spread widely across human society, sparking intense debates in the aftermath.
Meanwhile, Avery stood alone on a silent rooftop, his cloak billowing in the night wind. With an uncharacteristic lack of restraint, he impatiently destroyed a letter he had just read.
He had already anticipated the U.S. government's likely reaction by now. Although they had initially taken the interdimensional thief seriously, the usual arrogance of certain politicians had surfaced shortly after. Some were even foolish enough to entertain the idea of collaborating with Gregori's faction, deluding themselves into thinking it would give them an edge.
Their wavering resolve and petty scheming hadn't gone unnoticed. In fact, they'd even tried to undermine Avery with their so-called "clever" moves.
Frankly, Avery thought a pig could do a better job in their place. At least pigs only eat and sleep—they don't come up with absurd ideas.
Now that they'd seen Gregori's weaponry firsthand, the severity of the threat was clear even to their feeble minds. He expected they'd tread much more cautiously moving forward.
Satisfied, Avery sent off his reply.
It was time to initiate the next phase of his plan.
At that moment, a shadowy figure silently appeared beside him.
"Hand the captured ones over to Gordon," Avery said without even turning around. "You won't get anything useful from them. Someone will come to retrieve them."
He was referring to agents of the U.S. government.
"That's all you want to say to me?"
Batman's voice was low, and he discreetly flicked off an inconspicuous switch on his communicator.
A reckoning was at hand.
Avery sighed inwardly. He knew what was coming, but he also wasn't inclined to explain himself.
Had he concealed his power? Yes, initially. When he first returned, he had little interest in night patrols, save for the occasional intervention when Bruce's workaholic tendencies got too ridiculous. At the time, feigning to be a weaker wizard was simply more convenient.
But later, he stopped trying so hard to keep up the act. Restricting his techniques for the sake of maintaining a facade felt unnatural, and in front of allies, there wasn't much point in hiding it anymore.
And now? Was there anything else he had hidden?
Avery thought for a moment. Not much. And the few things he hadn't disclosed yet weren't ready to be revealed.
He carefully chose his words. "The Court of Owls is mostly dealt with. Even if there are remnants, without the Talons, they can't stir up much trouble. You can tell Harvey to—"
Before he could finish, Batman grabbed him by the collar.
Avery lowered his gaze to the scene and clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I've told you before—you've got violent tendencies. Always grabbing people by their collars."
Batman who is blatantly accused of having violent tendencies, remained unfazed. While it was true that he had a slight inclination toward such behavior, he would never actually harm his partner. This impulsive gesture stemmed more from his simmering anger, which he struggled to suppress, than any real intent to intimidate.
For the first time in his life, the Dark Knight found himself grappling with the difficulty of expressing anger. No matter how pointed or direct his questioning, Avery always responded in his usual calm tone. If there was a question Avery didn't want to answer, he would smoothly deflect or sidestep it, only to counter Batman's persistence with a resigned yet unyielding attitude.
Even when Batman's frustration mounted to the point of outburst, Avery would simply endure it with an air of nonchalance, as though it didn't faze him. Then, just as quickly, Avery would return to interacting with him as if nothing had happened, leaving Batman feeling as though he was the one being unreasonable.
Something felt off.
In his quiet moments of reflection, Bruce couldn't shake the feeling that something was fundamentally wrong. Alfred, the ever-diligent guardian who had overseen his upbringing, had never failed to guide him toward becoming a well-rounded individual. So why did it seem like Avery's personality bore a glaringly obvious flaw?
Without the recent string of incidents to highlight these concerns, Bruce might never have noticed.
If Avery had grown up in an environment devoid of structure or guidance, this might not have seemed unusual. But the truth was the opposite. Avery had come from a carefully cultivated background.
Bruce's thoughts turned to Gregori, whose words earlier had hinted at some familiarity with Avery. He made a mental note to investigate further.
A wry smirk tugged at his lips as he mused over the earlier accusation. Violent tendencies, was it? Fine. He would prove the point.
Unable to vent his emotions, thwarted in every attempt to escalate or resolve the tension, and denied even the satisfaction of getting a rise out of Avery, the Dark Knight made a snap decision to take another route entirely.
"You can teleport, can't you? Take me to the nearest safe house."
Avery blinked, puzzled. "What about them?" he asked, gesturing toward the captured assailants tied up on the lower floor.
Bruce's voice was cold, like the calm before a storm. "I've already called Gordon."
Avery shrugged, choosing not to argue. Although he had no idea what Bruce intended, he obliged, teleporting them to the closest safe house.
The moment they arrived, he was pinned against the wall with an almost bone-crushing force.
It seemed even the most unyielding of men could have fiery moments when pushed far enough.