Timothy Drake approached with a warm smile. The man looked exactly as James remembered from their gym encounters, though perhaps a bit more tired. Running a shipping company apparently took its toll.
"Tim, thanks again for the invitation," James said, shaking his hand.
"Of course. How's the investing going? Still riding that hot streak?"
"Diversified into real estate recently. Trying not to put all my eggs in one basket."
They talked business for a few minutes. Drake introduced James to several other businessmen. Presidents of local companies. Board members of charitable organizations. Each introduction was careful, strategic. Drake was vouching for James, bringing him into the network.
After twenty minutes of networking, James excused himself to explore the manor. He'd seen it in comics and movies, but experiencing it in person was different. The architecture was genuine Gothic revival. The art on the walls was museum quality.
Everything screamed history and power.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
James turned. A man in his early thirties stood nearby, holding a champagne flute and looking amused. Dark hair. Athletic build. Expensive suit worn casually. Bright blue eyes that looked friendly but missed nothing.
Bruce Wayne.
"Very impressive," James agreed. "You have a beautiful home."
"Thank you. I don't think we've met. Bruce Wayne." He extended his hand.
"James Carter." They shook. Bruce's grip was firm, controlled. "Thank you for hosting. The Wayne Foundation does amazing work."
"We try. Tim Drake mentioned you. Said you made a killing in pharmaceutical investing."
"Got lucky with a biotech company. Right place, right time."
"Luck is what people call it when preparation meets opportunity." Bruce's smile was easy, but his eyes were evaluating. "What brought you to Gotham originally?"
"Needed a change. My previous life wasn't going anywhere. Figured if I was going to reinvent myself, might as well do it in a city that appreciates reinvention."
Bruce laughed. "That's one way to describe Gotham. Most people run from here, not toward it."
"Maybe I like a challenge."
They talked for another ten minutes. Bruce was disarmingly charming, asking questions that seemed casual but probed for information. Where James went to school.
What he did before investing. His thoughts on Gotham's crime problem.
James answered carefully. Everything he said was technically true, just incomplete. He'd prepared a background story that held up to scrutiny. Went to community college. Worked dead-end jobs. Saved money. Made one good investment that changed everything.
Bruce seemed satisfied, though James suspected the man was mentally filing away every detail for later analysis.
"I should get back to my hosting duties," Bruce said eventually. "But we should talk more sometime. Always interesting to meet someone who sees opportunity in Gotham."
"I'd like that."
Bruce moved off into the crowd. James watched him go, aware that he'd just been evaluated by Batman and apparently passed the initial test. Bruce Wayne the playboy billionaire was a mask. Behind it was one of the most dangerous men on the planet.
James wondered if Bruce suspected anything. Probably not yet. James had been careful. His public identity was clean. No obvious connections to the underground fighting circuit. No links to vigilante activity.
But Batman would be watching now. That was fine. James had planned for it.
He continued networking for another hour. Met more of Gotham's elite. Established connections. Planted seeds for future opportunities.
Around ten PM, he left the gala and returned to his factory.
Time to test his enhancements in the field.
Read more on Patreon marvelstark