The morning sun filtered into the Queen mansion's elegant dining room, casting a soft glow on the table where Marcus, Moira, and Thea sat together, each engrossed in their own morning routines. Marcus casually scrolled through his tablet, reading the latest headlines as he sipped his coffee. Moira was reviewing some documents related to her commodities dealings, while Thea leafed through her classwork, mentally preparing for the day ahead.
Moira broke the comfortable silence, her curiosity getting the best of her. "So, how was Oliver's party last night? And how's Diggle holding up with his new assignment?"
Marcus took a sip of his coffee, smirking slightly at the mention of the party. Without revealing what had really gone down with Adam Hunt, Marcus responded with his usual dry wit. "The party? A solid 5 out of 10. Cops crashed it, looking for this 'Hood' vigilante after he apparently took down Adam Hunt and wiped out all his stolen money. Word is there's an open bounty on information about this guy now. Diggle's hanging in there, but I think Oliver gave him the slip."
At the mention of Adam Hunt's name, a flicker of surprise crossed Moira's face. She knew exactly who Hunt was and, more importantly, his connection to Malcolm Merlyn. But she quickly masked her reaction, taking another bite of her breakfast as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
After Thea excused herself to get ready for class, Moira leaned in closer to Marcus, her voice low and laced with concern. "Do you have any connection with this Hood vigilante, Marcus?"
Marcus paused for a moment, setting down his coffee cup and meeting his mother's gaze. He studied her carefully before answering, knowing she feared the connection might lead to dangerous consequences with Malcolm. "If that bastard Merlyn asks, you can tell him no—I don't. But for your information, I've got a few ideas on who it might be. Nothing solid though, and I definitely don't have any relationship with this Hood character."
Moira breathed a sigh of relief at his words, the tension in her shoulders easing as she finished her breakfast. With that, she excused herself, heading off to her meetings for the day.
A while later, Oliver finally made his way down to breakfast, clearly tired but keeping up appearances. As he sat down, Marcus looked at him over the rim of his coffee cup, his expression unreadable.
"Morning, little brother," Marcus said, almost casually. "Construction staff's already at the facility in the Glades, doing the inspection. You can head down there today to discuss your ideas for the club and work out any changes you want. Oh, and there's a starting budget—one and a half million for reconstruction. More if it's needed."
Oliver blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "A million and a half? I wasn't expecting that much."
Marcus gave him a knowing smile. "Consider it an investment. Just don't burn the place down before you've even opened it." There was a teasing edge to his voice, but underneath, Marcus was giving Oliver more than just money—he was giving him trust and support, even if indirectly.
With his plans for the club now firmly in motion, Oliver nodded, grateful but keeping his excitement contained. He knew the club would be the perfect cover for his activities as the Hood. But for now, he played it cool, offering his brother a smirk in return. "I'll try not to burn it down."
As Oliver ate his breakfast, thoughts of the night before lingered in his mind. The Hood had struck for the first time, and the city had begun to take notice. His mission was just getting started, and he knew things would only get more complicated from here.
As Marcus finished his breakfast, he glanced up from his tablet, eyeing Oliver with a thoughtful look. "So, little brother, have you heard what people are saying about this 'Hood' character?" Marcus leaned back, crossing his arms. "I've been listening to the buzz from Dad's old business partners. They're scared, Oliver. After what happened to Adam Hunt, they're all worried they might be next."
Oliver, who had been quietly enjoying his meal, nodded, his mind already on the Hood's next moves. But what Marcus said next hit him harder. "Thankfully," Marcus continued, "I've consolidated over 80% of the company. The rest? That's in the hands of you, Thea, Mom... and unfortunately, Malcolm Merlyn. He's the only outsider left to deal with. Gives me a lot of room to maneuver with budgets. That's how I can throw some serious trust your way, by the way."
The realization dawned on Oliver—Marcus had been supporting him financially through personal means, using his control of the family company to avoid involving Malcolm Merlyn. It was a calculated move, one that made sense now, explaining why Marcus had so much faith in Oliver's club project.
Marcus stood up, stretching before giving Oliver a mock-serious look. "Alright, Ollie. I'm heading out. Just... take Diggle with you this time." He chuckled, but the tone was only half-joking.
As Marcus turned to leave, he paused by the door as Diggle entered the room. Without missing a beat, Marcus smirked and clapped Diggle on the shoulder. "Hey, Diggle. Here's the deal—keep my brother in check for a day, and I'll throw in a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. Only rule? No hospitals. But if he tries to run off, feel free to tase him or knock him out with a tranquilizer dart. Your call."
Diggle stood there for a moment, stunned by the offer. Then, a slow grin spread across his face. "Payback time," he muttered with a smirk.
Oliver, overhearing this conversation, froze in place like a deer in headlights. He could hardly believe his brother had put a bounty on him, essentially paying Diggle to keep him in line. His mind raced, already calculating ways to escape.
With that, Marcus gave a satisfied nod and headed out for his office, where he planned to work in his secret lab on a new project—something as ambitious as the construction of a ZPM (Zero Point Module). He had plenty of work ahead of him, but he was confident his brother was in good hands, or at least well-monitored.
Back at the mansion, the tension between Oliver and Diggle was palpable. Every move Oliver made seemed to be under Diggle's watchful eye. He could feel Diggle's amused gaze on him, as the bodyguard muttered under his breath, counting his potential bonus with playful anticipation.
"Fifty thousand, one hundred thousand, one-fifty…" Diggle joked, his tone light but with a clear message—he wasn't letting Oliver out of his sight.
Oliver shot him an annoyed glance. "You really gonna take that deal, huh?"
Diggle smiled, arms crossed. "Hey, a man's gotta make a living. And it's not every day I get the chance to keep you out of trouble and get paid well for it."
Oliver sighed, knowing Diggle wouldn't be easy to shake. But he was already plotting his next move, determined to find a way to evade his ever-watchful bodyguard and keep up his mission as the Hood.
Later that day, Oliver, Tommy, and Diggle met at the decommissioned facility in the Glades to discuss Oliver's plans for the club with the head designer and the foreman of the construction crew. They stood around a large, empty space that had once housed industrial machinery but would soon be transformed into a sleek, modern nightlife hub.
Oliver was enthusiastically explaining his vision. "I want something that feels exclusive but still gives people from the Glades a chance to experience something more upscale—nothing too out of reach for the locals."
Tommy, always the joker, chimed in. "Yeah, basically, make it cool enough for me to hang out in, but, you know, not so pretentious that people can't get in without a trust fund."
The head designer, a sharp-eyed woman with a sleek tablet in hand, was sketching out the rough layout of the club as Oliver and Tommy talked. She moved quickly, her fingers creating a rough digital model of the space on her screen. "We can make it multi-tiered, with VIP sections on the upper level. Maybe we can incorporate an underground vibe, but still keep the Glades' grit intact." She swiped her screen, adding a parking structure that would accommodate the crowds.
Diggle, standing a bit to the side, was quietly observing the entire exchange. He couldn't help but think that the club was going to be a yuppie haven. With all the luxury touches Oliver and Tommy were suggesting, it seemed unlikely that anyone from the Glades could afford to step foot in the place. But Diggle kept his thoughts to himself, recognizing that the project wasn't just about opening a club—it was also a way to keep Oliver occupied and engaged, away from more dangerous endeavors.
As the designer refined the model, Oliver, Tommy, and Diggle watched intently. The club was beginning to take shape, with clean lines, open spaces, and a design that mixed modern elegance with a touch of the Glades' raw, urban charm. The three men stood side by side, envisioning what this dilapidated warehouse would soon become.
Meanwhile, several miles away, Marcus sat deep within the confines of his secret lab, his mind on a completely different scale of innovation. In front of him, a machine hummed softly, constructing a prototype ZPM (Zero Point Module) within a phased pocket of space. The delicate process required the utmost precision—any mistake could result in catastrophic energy failures. The phased pocket kept the ZPM insulated from the rest of the lab, a precaution Marcus had implemented to prevent any accidents.
His eyes were glued to several monitors, each tracking various data points on the ZPM's construction. He had worked for months to design a method that could harness nearly unlimited energy. This prototype, if successful, would be a breakthrough—not just for his own ambitions but for the entire energy sector.
But Marcus' mind wasn't solely focused on the ZPM. On another screen, high-tech computer programs monitored the activity of Starling City. He had access to a network of surveillance feeds, business transactions, and encrypted communications, allowing him to keep a close eye on everything happening in the city, from corporate dealings to street-level crime.
He had noticed a recent uptick in chatter about the Hood. It seemed the mysterious vigilante was making waves, disrupting the city's criminal underworld in ways that were causing panic among those in power. Marcus leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on a file labeled "Adam Hunt"—one of the more corrupt business figures who had recently been taken down by the Hood.
As the ZPM continued to develop, Marcus allowed himself a brief smile. He wasn't sure exactly how things would unfold with the Hood, but he was prepared to stay several steps ahead, no matter what.