Chapter 422

The endless snowstorm crippled transportation systems in every city; most companies shut down, and people stayed home.

Even in cities without snow, the freezing air made locals extremely uncomfortable; staying indoors to watch TV was far more pleasant than braving the cold on the streets late at night.

But one place was an exception: outside the mayor's mansion, the wide street was packed with vehicles, luxury cars lined up everywhere.

On the rooftop helipad of a nearby skyscraper, helicopters were so numerous they overflowed; in this weather, arriving by car was considered beneath dignity, so the event's host, the mayor, and the entrepreneur known as Lu Se, greeted guests on the helipad.

If any of these helicopters was undeniably the star, it was the one bearing the Wayne family emblem.

Bruce, dressed in a suit, stepped down from the helicopter; the icy wind on the rooftop whipped his hair as he turned to help Selina down.

A middle-aged man with streaks of gray at his temples but still full of vigor approached, warmly clapping Bruce on the shoulder: "Long time no see, Mr. Wayne. Wasn't our last meeting at that celebrity charity match?"

Bruce smiled and embraced him: "Yes, Mr. Lu Se. I remember how generously you donated at that charity event…"

"Just call me Lionel."

The middle-aged businessman, Lionel, slung an arm around Bruce as they walked forward: "Don't mention it—it's my duty. Entrepreneurs with social responsibility can't stand idly by during a disaster, can we?"

They entered through the building's rooftop entrance; Bruce glanced around the interior and said: "So this building is yours now? I remember last time I was here, it belonged to someone… what was his name? I forgot."

Lionel smiled humbly: "Oh, right—it used to be the headquarters of a cruise ship magnate. His business recently tanked, so I bought it."

They took the elevator downstairs, passed through the lobby and a small garden, and arrived at the adjacent mayor's mansion. Lionel still wore his smile: "The biggest advantage? It's close enough to our respected mayor, isn't it?"

"Yes—if you throw a party in this building, the mayor could even pour champagne from his bedroom straight into yours."

Bruce continued making jokes with practiced ease; Selina silently kept her arm linked with his, her skin prickling at Bruce's cheerful demeanor.

"About last election…" Bruce lowered his voice, speaking in a somber tone. Lionel glanced around and whispered back: "Better not bring that up here—it's not a proud memory."

"Seven of the candidates in the last mayoral race turned out to be spies sent by foreign nations…" Lionel kept glancing left and right, lowering his voice further: "If not for the assassinations of several candidates during the campaign—and the subsequent investigation revealing their true identities—we'd still be completely in the dark."

"And the current mayor…"

Lionel shook his head and sighed: "Who knows? They're everywhere."

"Oh, by the way, since we're talking about this—I should remind you: there might be security checks at the entrance tonight. You know—those annoying security agents…"

"Ever since that election scandal, the FBI's been watching this place like everyone here is a spy."

Bruce's face twisted into a look of deep revulsion, but he quickly masked it—still, Lionel caught the fleeting expression.

Yawen

He patted Bruce's back: "I feel the same way—I hate being searched. I'll speak to the mayor's aides; they'll just do a cursory check, nothing thorough."

As they reached the mansion's entrance, Lionel stepped forward and spoke to one of the agents. Several agents stood with arms crossed, sizing up the group. Finally, a female agent approached, performed a perfunctory inspection of their clothing, and let them pass.

"Who are they?" Bruce asked Lionel over his shoulder.

"They claim to be FBI, but I doubt it—probably CIA. They have no law enforcement authority within the federation, so they borrow other agencies' names."

Inside the hall, lights blazed gold and brilliant; tables were draped in lavish cloths with gently swaying tassels, champagne glasses stacked into towers, wine cascading down, silver candlesticks flanking the long tables, sumptuous dishes rich in color, aroma, and taste, while nobles and tycoons in colorful formal wear exchanged drinks and conversation.

After exchanging pleasantries, Lionel departed. Bruce pulled Selina's arm close and whispered to her, mainly warning her not to stare too long at others' jewels.

Bruce took a glass of wine from a waiter's tray and scanned the hall. His gaze landed again on Lionel, who was striding toward another figure—and as Bruce's eyes settled on that figure, his narrowed.

"Oh, you must be Professor Rodriguez?" Lionel stepped forward and shook hands with Shiler, who nodded: "Mr. Lu Se, I've heard much of you."

"Just call me Lionel," Lionel said, his face always wearing that polite, unoffensive businessman's smile.

Before Shiler could speak, he continued: "Your recent paper on dreams and consciousness fascinated me—I never imagined human dreams could be interpreted from such an angle."

"Professor, your research has opened a new world for me and my son—especially my son, little Lex. He's deeply fascinated by this theory and eager to learn…"

"Technically, I should have corresponded with you for months before inviting you to my dinner, but lately Lex has become obsessed with this theory, so I dared to send you an invitation without delay—I hope you'll grace us with your presence…"

Lionel used all the standard polite phrases of a businessman, appearing courteous and sincere—but his smile still carried a trace of pride. Clearly, the Lu Se family was no less than any other super-family; anyone favored by them should feel honored.

Shiler nodded, smiling: "I'm glad to find kindred spirits here. Under normal circumstances, I'd gladly stay for days and exchange ideas with those who share my interests—but I'm somewhat concerned…"

He glanced back toward the entrance, where several agents still stood, then brushed his hand and lowered his head: "When I entered, their presence was terrifying—I nearly thought I'd walked into some secret base. Mr. Lu Se, what's going on?"

Lionel heard the faint irritation in Shiler's tone and quickly explained: "I'm sorry—did those agents treat you poorly?"

He shook his head helplessly, feigning outrage: "I hear you once worked in Metropolis and gave lectures at Metropolis University—you must have heard about the scandal during the last election…"

"The assassinations of candidates went unsolved for too long, forcing us to call in the FBI. But what they uncovered was a chain of spies. Public trust collapsed, and the entire municipal system plunged into chaos…"

Lionel sighed deeply: "My business suffered too, but I managed to survive."

He turned toward the agents and added: "Since then, they've had a legitimate excuse to linger here, inspecting everyone they see, treating everyone as a suspected spy."

"Yes… I heard about that." Shiler's voice grew quieter: "I was dragged into it too. The university's vice president was taken in for questioning; over twenty professors were listed as suspects. The reach was too wide…"

Lionel glanced left and right, then signaled with his eyes for Shiler to follow him deeper into the hall, away from the agents. He lowered his voice: "I don't know if you're aware, but this matter is far more complex—it involves a distant great power, a multi-nation power struggle. We're all victims."

"Let's not talk about it." Shiler seemed haunted, unwilling to dwell on it. Seeing his reaction, Lionel changed the subject: "As a result, many talents left Metropolis. But after the mayor's successful transition and my company weathered the crisis, many have returned."

"I invited many of them to this dinner."

"And I won't hide it—I hope even more talents return to this city. The dark times are over. I believe the future will only get better."

Lionel's words carried subtle implications; Shiler understood and replied: "To be honest, before that incident, Metropolis truly was a fine city."

"Though I hate to say it—if you compare it to Gotham, anywhere feels like paradise. That city's weather and transportation system are utterly terrible."

They spoke at length on the topic, eventually turning to Bruce. Learning Bruce was now Shiler's student, Lionel's smile grew even more genuine.

As if suddenly remembering, Shiler said: "Oh, by the way, this morning I heard on the radio that another string of serial murders occurred here. What's going on?"

Lionel hesitated, then replied: "Yes… there have been serial killings. But…"

*Bang! *

A thunderous crash echoed; screams erupted. Shiler turned— a dark figure plummeted from above and landed in the center of the banquet hall—

It was the mayor of Metropolis.

Or rather, the mayor's corpse.