Chapter 465: Secrets of the Past (Part 1)

In the dimly lit corridor, a corpse lay sprawled on the floor of the narrow stair landing; Alfred stood on the upper staircase step, while Kira stood below.

Kira holstered her pistol, lowered her head, and looked at Benjamin's body. "Mr. Pennyworth, you may attend to your real business—I'll handle this."

"My real business is killing him." Alfred descended the stairs, stepped opposite Kira, and said: "Valeria, thank you for the intelligence."

Kira frowned at Alfred, clearly displeased. "I sent you word a month ago—they were plotting against Wayne Enterprises. Why did you let him come?"

Kira sighed. "This isn't simple. On the surface, they're investigating the Philby List, but everyone knows it's outdated—useless except to cover up the CIA's failures."

"We all know the 1980 economic crisis left deep scars; the East Coast suffered terribly. But many also profited—from Luthor Group to Wayne Enterprises."

"The tycoons crushed by the tide of history never stop trying to reclaim their power. Wayne and Luthor control too much of the pie. Those wolves are red with envy."

"They're incredibly stupid, Alfred. When I heard their plan, I nearly lost my mind."

Aiyue Shuxiang

"They actually thought they could gather all the East Coast elites in one place, kill the heads of Wayne and Luthor in the chaos, and blame it on Soviet agents…"

Kira pressed her hand to her forehead, as if merely repeating the plan made her speechless.

"They actually believed that, with these elites as witnesses, the whole thing would seem legitimate—never considering it might plunge them into another economic abyss."

"Valeria, you must understand: wise people are always a minority. Even ordinary people with sound judgment are rarer than fools."

"I traveled through France, Britain, Italy, then came to America. Only after joining the Air Force, rising to mid-level, and being transferred to the CIA did I realize elite politics was a fraud."

"Elite?" Kira's gaze returned to Benjamin's corpse. Her face twisted with revulsion. "They're complacent, arrogant, blind to consequences—even when they can foresee them, they gamble on luck."

"They dream up ten thousand terrible plans daily. When they create chaos, they blame subordinates for poor execution, then keep preaching how vital their 'elite' teams are—while the cost falls on ordinary people at the bottom."

"Enough complaining, Valeria. You've worked here years—don't you know their nature by now?"

Kira sighed helplessly and shook her head.

She looked at Alfred's face—he was older than their last meeting. Snowlight from the window reflected on his cheeks, illuminating every wrinkle clearly.

In the glass reflection, Kira saw herself too. She was no longer young, no longer the naive, fiery girl she'd been. Her peers her age were married or preparing for children. Yet she remained Alfred's junior.

Kira remembered how she met Alfred. The CIA had long been manipulated by certain people to target the Wayne family. The investigation into Gotham had been underway for years—and unluckily, Kira was among the first agents sent there.

When she received the order, she thought her cover was blown. She couldn't believe the CIA's top leadership had actually approved such a stupid plan—to target the two largest East Coast conglomerates.

The CIA hoped these agents would uncover ethical flaws in the conglomerates' leadership. Kira had no desire to join this folly, but orders were orders.

Before arriving, she never imagined Gotham was so dangerous. Within two days of stepping into the city, she was summoned before Don Falcone.

She should have been grateful: she lived to meet Falcone only because of her Soviet training. Her comrades weren't so lucky.

The conversation with the Don wasn't pleasant. Kira had prepared to die protecting her true identity. But that day, another old man visited Falcone—they were old acquaintances. And that day, the old man revealed her Soviet spy identity, then sent her away from Gotham.

Later, through correspondence, Kira learned the mysterious old man was Alfred Pennyworth.

Initially, after Alfred exposed her identity, Kira thought he might be recruitable. The Wayne family's butler was a crucial position—if she could turn him, it would greatly benefit her homeland.

So she began writing him frequently. But at some point, the tone of their letters reversed roles.

Kira realized the old man possessed extraordinary espionage experience—he was no amateur. He was a far more skilled and seasoned agent than she was.

She began asking him for advice on techniques, while also passing CIA intelligence to Alfred.

Under Alfred's guidance, Kira's cover grew tighter. As she became more convincing as a CIA agent, her performance improved, and she rose steadily through the ranks—becoming Benjamin's deputy in just two years.

It was a high rank: the Special Operations Team held immense authority. Now, with Benjamin dead, the position would fall to Kira.

Thinking of all the years Alfred had patiently taught her espionage skills, Kira grew uneasy. She frowned and asked:

"I still don't understand—I warned you in advance. Why let young Wayne get involved? It's too dangerous…"

I'm asking the same question again: you've already sent me the information in advance—why did you still let young Wayne get involved? This is extremely dangerous…

"Uh…"

Kira was momentarily speechless, but she argued:

"You can't compare them. Gotham has countless gangs, daily gunfights, plenty of lunatics, chaotic traffic, constant natural and man-made disasters—even children are wild. Law and order? Nonexistent…"

Her voice trailed off. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. Gotham is worse."

"Bruce can't stay under someone's wing forever. He must learn to face these conspiracies himself."

As Alfred's aged voice echoed through the stairwell, Kira heard the sigh in his tone.

That tone stirred memories of home. She remembered the last person who spoke to her like that—her father. They stood on the vast snowy plains of Lake Baikal, speaking of her future, of their great nation's future.

"Today, it's just some oligarchs and the CIA dreaming up a stupid plan—using crude methods to lure him here, with unprofessional manpower."

"But if he's never seen such tactics, what will he do tomorrow when a truly powerful, clever man crafts a perfect conspiracy with full preparation?"

"Forgive me, Alfred…" Kira still worried. "If it were just Benjamin and his agents testing young Wayne, fine. But what's beneath City Hall… that could be deadly."

With all due respect, Alfred… Kela still looked worried. "If it were just Benjamin and his agents, used as practice for young Wayne, that might be acceptable—but what's beneath the mayor's mansion could be far more dangerous…"

"Most people assume the previous mayors—or even earlier officials—built secret radiation experiments underground. Americans love fantasizing about such things, and their government does love doing them."

"But the CIA has more detailed files. My clearance isn't high enough to see all of them, but Benjamin once told me: there's indeed a mysterious mineral underground, radioactive—but not meant to irradiate humans."

Kira spoke with dread: "From what I've learned, it may be meant to seal something far more dangerous."

"I don't know what it is. But from Benjamin and his superior's reactions, it's certainly not good."

"It's an egg," Alfred said suddenly.

Kira stared at him, then narrowed her eyes. His expression was utterly calm—he clearly knew what it was.

"It's an older story. But you've probably heard of it. Do you remember the case in Gotham thirty years ago?"

"Uh… I hadn't been assigned to America then, but I think I saw a glimpse in the files. The records were bizarre—I didn't understand them…"

"Valeria, I once told you in our letters: sometimes, an agent doesn't need to understand what intelligence means. You only need to deliver it. Experts will analyze the truth later."

"But now, you don't need to do that. This case is nearly thirty years old. Intelligence has a shelf life. After so long, it's unlikely to draw attention."

"What exactly happened? I'm confused. You've always lived in Gotham—how do you know what's beneath City Hall? And how is this connected to the case thirty years ago?"

What exactly is going on? I'm a bit confused—you've always been in Gotham, so how do you know what's beneath the Metropolis mayor's mansion? And how is this connected to the case from thirty years ago?

Alfred's tone returned to his usual unhurried British cadence—annoying at first, but soon Kira was captivated.

"Becoming Wayne's butler wasn't my first time in Gotham. My first visit was about twenty-six years ago—in the spring of 1962."

"I came because I carried a vital mission…"

Kira saw a light kindle in Alfred's eyes—as if recalling his youth, proud of the great deeds he'd once done.

"In March 1962, I received orders from Moscow: make contact with Harold Kim Philby, under heavy surveillance, and retrieve a crucial list containing all spy intelligence to return to Moscow."

In March 1962, I received an order from Moscow to make contact with Harold Kim Philby, who was under tight surveillance, and bring back a crucial list containing all espionage intelligence to Moscow.