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"Do you remember what I told you before?" Morin said. "About how you studied with the League of Assassins."
"This matter is related to them."
"The League of Assassins is gone," Bruce frowned. "I destroyed it myself."
Bruce did have a no-killing rule, but it wasn't absolute. When his own life was on the line, he wasn't that rigid.
He learned from them. Then he destroyed their base.
There was nothing he could do about it. He was the protagonist. They were the villains.
That was how it worked.
In any case, it had nothing to do with Morin. Digging into it would only complicate things.
Better to get to the point.
"No. You're wrong," Morin shook his head. "You didn't destroy the League of Assassins. You only destroyed one of their strongholds."
"The League of Assassins is a massive organization. Their former name was also the League of Assassins."
This League of Assassins was not that League of Assassins.
In this world, they were extremists. Lunatics with an ideology even more radical than the so-called 'kill one to save a thousand.'
Their belief was simple.
Kill millions to save the world.
To fulfill their twisted vision, they had engineered countless disasters. The Black Death in Europe was one of them.
Their goal was to eliminate what they called the filth of the world.
A misanthropic organization. Highly trained. Extremely dangerous.
For Morin, they weren't much of a problem.
But in a world where the peak of power was still an ordinary human, with almost no supernatural forces, they were a catastrophic threat.
If Bruce, Fox, and the others hadn't intervened later, Gotham would have been wiped off the map.
"...Is this their directive?" Bruce asked after Morin finished his explanation. "What's their goal? Just destruction?"
"They destroy anything they think can't be saved," Morin said. "That includes entire cities."
"Honestly, they're not much smarter than you. They might even be dumber."
"...I feel like you're insulting me," Bruce said as he stopped the car. "We're here."
"Go in," Morin replied. "With your status, no one will stop you."
"And yes. I am insulting you."
"Don't question it."
Bruce: "..."
Why was he so direct?
Couldn't he give him some face?
I'm the one paying for all of this... right?
Or not yet?
Bruce's earlier thought about buying the apartment Morin was renting quietly resurfaced.
As they were about to enter Arkham, another car pulled in.
Bruce glanced over.
Jim Gordon.
Bruce had looked into Gordon before. He'd wanted to recruit him.
Then Morin appeared, and Bruce shifted priorities. Gordon had slipped his mind.
"What's he doing here?" Bruce paused briefly, then dismissed it.
What Morin had told him mattered more.
"Sir, you can't go in," the Arkham guard said, blocking him. "You need a pass."
"Do you know who I am?" Bruce asked.
"...Yes, sir."
The guard wanted to say no. His mouth disagreed.
"Good." Bruce patted his shoulder. "That car over there is yours. The door's unlocked. Keys are inside."
"Can I go in now?"
Gordon had just parked and walked over in time to hear everything.
For someone experiencing money power up close for the first time, the impact was devastating.
Even knowing Bruce was on their side, Gordon froze.
"...Of course you can," the guard said dazedly.
He didn't doubt Bruce for a second.
Because he knew exactly who Bruce Wayne was.
But that was precisely why he was stunned.
What?
He bought a car just to walk through the door?
Do things like this still exist?
Bruce nodded in satisfaction and walked inside.
Half a million dollars to save time. A car he didn't plan to keep.
I'm really good at managing money.
Bruce thought so sincerely.
Gordon, not being the direct beneficiary, recovered first and moved to follow.
The guard instinctively stopped him.
"What, are you going to charge a cop too?" Gordon's expression darkened.
"No, no!" The guard snapped out of it and hurriedly stepped aside.
The police weren't someone he could offend.
"Bottom floor?" Gordon entered and heard Bruce on the phone.
"What? Someone else? Who... ah. I see him."
Bruce stopped mid-sentence as Gordon pushed the door open.
At the same time, Morin's voice on the phone casually mentioned Gordon's name.
"...Mr. Bruce?" Gordon looked at him.
He remembered what Morin had said earlier.
Cross-dresser.
Then he connected it to Bruce casually giving away a car.
Instant understanding.
And pity.
Such a young, wealthy man... what a shame.
But also, with that much money, who cared about a weird hobby?
Bruce froze.
He was certain this was their first meeting.
Then why was Gordon looking at him like that?
"Yes," Bruce decided to ignore it. "Commissioner Gordon, I've been following your work, and I never expected-"
"Shouldn't we see him first?" Gordon interrupted.
Arkham was an asylum, but it still had staff. Patients didn't care for themselves.
"Okay."
They found the stairs and headed down. Morin had already warned them the elevator was broken.
Staff stared along the way.
Neither Bruce nor Gordon paid attention.
They were both focused on what Morin had told them.
"You're here?"
At the bottom-level factory, Morin leaned on the railing, boredly playing Snake.
"It's that."
"My God..." Gordon stared at the hundreds of iron barrels. "Are they all... that toxin?"
"No need to worry," Morin said. "It looks like a lot, but once dispersed, it's insignificant. It only reacts when inhaled."
"But with the League of Assassins involved, they're definitely planning something big."
"The League of Assassins?" Gordon frowned. "What's that?"
"A terrorist organization," Morin waved it off. "Not your concern."
"This is between Bruce and me."
"...Alright."
Gordon wanted to say more, but stopped.
If someone of Morin's status said so, it must be true.
Knowing more wouldn't help.
"How do we handle this?" Bruce asked.
"You provide the money," Morin said. "I provide the effort."
He glanced at Gordon.
"He provides the people."
"...What do you mean, provide the people?" Gordon was instantly frustrated.
Why did that sound so wrong?
I have a wife and kids, alright?
"That means you take the credit and become police commissioner," Morin clarified.
"Bruce funds the antidote research. It gets distributed citywide. He gains reputation-for himself and Wayne Enterprises."
"It increases influence. Part of the plan."
"I understand," Gordon nodded.
So I'm the one who takes the credit.
That's... not bad at all.
Gordon wasn't ungrateful. He knew he'd owe favors afterward.
Their goals didn't conflict.
Helping each other was natural.
"As for my effort," Morin continued, "I deal with the League of Assassins."
"Perfect division of labor."
"You... alone?" Bruce asked.
"Of course not," Morin said. "You're helping too."
"My mistake. I forgot to mention it earlier."
"But you wanted to learn my skills, didn't you? This is the perfect opportunity."
"How much you learn depends on you."
"You said before you couldn't teach me," Gordon said, frustrated for the third time.
He'd wanted to learn badly.
Now Morin was saying he could teach Bruce?
Is this what difference between people looks like?
"That's not the same thing," Morin said calmly. "What I can't teach you, I can't teach Bruce either."
"As for what I plan to teach Bruce..."
Morin looked Gordon up and down.
"How old are you?"
"Forties."
"Forty-one is forties. Forty-nine is forties," Morin waved it off.
"But either way, your body won't cut it."
He pointed at Bruce.
"His body can reach the human limit. He just lacks time and experience."
"The human limit?" Bruce frowned. "What's that standard?"
"See that wall?"
"Yes."
Thud.
Morin slammed his elbow into it.
The wall caved in.
"...Is that the human limit?" Bruce swallowed instinctively.
"No," Morin said. "That surpasses it."
Bruce: "(-_-)..."
Then why mention it?
"...Wait," Bruce reacted. "You've already surpassed it?"
"Obviously," Morin said, genuinely confused. "Didn't you already guess?"
"How?" Bruce pressed.
"Everyone has a different fate," Morin said, voice lowering. "Some people are just born with that talent."
"Don't be discouraged."
"When God closes a door, he opens a window."
"Your original plan was creative. That's your strength. Don't abandon the core for the incidental."
"You mean the Batsuit?" Bruce frowned.
So I really can't learn that, huh.
"Exactly," Morin nodded. "You have money."
"Technology exists to break limits."
"A hundred years ago, who imagined humans reaching space?"
"I'll push your body to its limit. The rest of your potential lies in the suit."
"I understand," Bruce said quietly.
"...Shouldn't we handle this first?" Gordon snapped.
For the fifth time.
One has talent.
One has money.
And me?
Just waiting to take credit?
That's great.
No. That's shameless.
I have to interrupt.
"Wayne Enterprises can buy Arkham, right?" Morin asked.
"Of course," Bruce nodded. "But Earle would-"
"Then replace him," Morin said flatly. "It's your company."
"I also heard he's trying to dilute your shares."
"Buy this place. Seal it. Take samples. Develop an antidote."
"When the League moves, we start."
"...Won't that endanger people?" Gordon asked carefully.
"We're doing this for them," Morin interrupted. "For all of Gotham."
"We have advance knowledge. If we warn everyone, we lose initiative."
"They retreat. We lose our chance."
"Zero casualties would be ideal."
"But if someone dies..."
"Then they were unlucky."
There were things Morin didn't say.
And didn't need to.
Without a price, who cherishes the result?
Is it enough for Bruce alone to cherish it?
What Morin needed was for Gotham to understand what had been avoided.
Without an example, who would believe it?
As for deciding life and death in an instant-
Weakness was the original sin.
If you're strong, you aren't controlled.
If you're weak, even if you are, you might never know.
And even if you do, there's nothing you can do.
In the end, everything comes down to strength.
That was the only constant truth.