Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

Judging from the scale of the bank and the city, this guy must be a businessman with a bit of money, a second or third-tier rich man in the city, mostly dealing with local business.

But don't underestimate such wealthy people; many of them have been operating locally for generations, not quite up there but certainly not at the bottom.

More importantly, their interpersonal relationships are actually more complex than those top tycoons.

Does Bruce Wayne have any real enemies?

Not Batman, but the identity of Wayne means he is unlikely to have serious enemies because the lower-class can't reach him and the upper-class prioritize interests over grudges, so there's little benefit in being mortal enemies with the Waynes.

This is because the Wayne Family has reached the pinnacle, getting on their good side brings more benefits than offending them, so it's really hard for someone to genuinely want to pick a fight with them.

However, it's not the same for these local rich businessmen; they've been operating in a city for generations. It's impossible to grow rich without offending anyone, and over several generations, some grudges fade with time, but others become deeply entangled, eventually turning into a matter of life and death.

Especially in industries that can't establish a monopoly in this city, competitors are bound to despise him, itchy to suppress him any way they can, profiting for themselves, whether openly or in secret.

And one cannot rule out the possibility that some desperate lunatic decides to physically eliminate him.

The man certainly knew these two in front of him likely weren't sent by his competitors, but the problem was if he disappeared, the police would definitely investigate from this angle.

Outsiders may not know, but how could he, a local, be unaware? Not a single American police officer has neglected to check interpersonal relationships; they spend their spare time drinking coffee, eating donuts, and washing police cars. And capturing criminals is all about breaking doors, gunfights, speed and passion.

Primarily because America's national conditions don't support the police going door-to-door, asking about personal relationships. There's no such thing as a harmonious police-public relationship; everyone is as wary of police as they are of criminals. There have been too many instances of police entrapment, so most people won't talk to the police more than they have to, making it impossible to start an investigation.

So, once they encounter a potential vendetta case with an extremely complicated personal network, they essentially give up because it's just not workable, with not enough cameras and no way to get information. What else can they do?

If these two had indeed robbed a bank, the police would still make an effort to track them down; after all, if they don't set an example, everyone would dare to rob banks.

But if they just kidnapped someone, especially someone with many enemies, the police would most likely classify it as a vendetta case. Just filing a missing person report and checking some surveillance would be them doing their duty.

Thinking of this, the man broke out in a cold sweat, swallowed his saliva, and quickly said, "I have money, I can pay, as long as you don't kill me, everything's negotiable."

"Don't rush, what business are you in?" Bruce asked.

"Uh, I run a decoration company."

The man didn't dare to hide anything because he also didn't know how Bruce knew his birthday was in January. He suspected Bruce might have already investigated him, and if he were caught lying, he knew he'd be truly doomed.

"Business must be pretty big, right?"

"It's... it's alright, I can rank among the top three in the city—no, probably the second now."

"Oh? Who's the first?"

"That would be... Silterk of course. The Sirteck family leads in every industry here, as this city is named after their family."

"Pretty arrogant," Bruce said with a smirk, and the pale knight seemed to be mouthing, "I haven't even renamed Gotham to Wayne City."

"Yes, no one in this place can challenge Sirteck," the man said, shrinking his neck, "I'm just scraping by."

"But you said you were wealthy, right?"

"I mean, I do have money, but I've been getting less and less of it. That old Sirteck guy has gone mad, ramping up pressure on our business like crazy. Last month, someone died on my construction site, but Sirteck insists that my documents are incomplete, unable to prove it was an accidental death, and the man's wife comes to make trouble here every day..."

Bruce's eyes darted around, then he said, "You know we people do anything for money, it's all just one job. If the price you offer is right, we can give him some trouble for you."

The man took a light breath; construction sites around the world are the same, the more backward the area, the more likely it gets messy with the underworld. Sigeltek itself isn't a big city; it's remote, and doing construction here means you can't avoid dealing with these things.

Bruce, while driving, turned around and asked, "Got a smoke?"

The man fished out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Bruce lit one, put it in his mouth, exhaled a cloud of smoke and said, "We were actually targeting you because with so many enemies, it's hard to investigate. By the time the police figure it out, you'd have been dumped on some desolate mountain in Quebec."

"But pressuring you to withdraw money wouldn't get us much. Since it's all risky, how about you pay us a sum and we help you with your little troubles? It's good for both of us, don't you think?"

The man seemed to be weighing his options, probing, "If I agree, will you let me go home to get the money?"

"Do you have cash at home?"

"No, but I have gold bars," the man said.

"How much?"

"Can you really help me get rid of the trouble?"

"It depends on how you want to handle it," Bruce took the cigarette out of his mouth and said, "If it's just a matter of kidnapping and scaring someone, it can be done for 30,000, but if you want him to disappear forever, it won't be less than 100,000."

"You dare mess with Siltex?"

Bruce let out a disdainful snort, "What do you think he is? The richest man in the world?"

"He may not be the richest man in the world, but this is his hometown. The Siltex Medical Insurance Company operates on a large scale in Connecticut and Massachusetts; he's a well-known tycoon in the American health insurance industry."

"But he's still human, a bullet to the head will kill him just the same." Bruce spoke with the tone of a desperado, "You know about the Church?"

The man suddenly shivered, looking at Bruce with a hint of terror, "You've worked for the Church before?"

"They can't possibly do all the dirty work themselves." Bruce turned the steering wheel, glanced at the rearview mirror to make sure no one was following them before he continued, "Their payments aren't generous, but working for them means you don't have to worry about being chased. What do you think?"

"Can you really kill Siltex?" The man asked hesitantly, pausing before adding, "Actually, I feel the Church isn't pleased with him either because he doesn't allow the Church to infiltrate Sigeltek. He sees this place as his own territory."

"If that's the case, I might be able to take two orders." Bruce smiled.

"That's what I was thinking," a glint flashed in the man's eyes, "If you have connections with the Church, maybe you could try asking if they want Siltex gone."

"You're afraid they'll trace it back to you?"

"Of course, I am. If such a big shot dies and it's linked to me, I might spend the rest of my life behind bars." The man sighed, "If the Church also wants to take action against him, I'm willing to give you extra funding. As long as you can shift the blame onto the Church after it's done, they are used to this kind of thing anyway."

Bruce nodded, "Alright, I happen to know a Father. I'll ask him. How can I contact you?"

"Every street that starts with a 'w' in the city has empty houses. Each one has a mailbox in front. Whichever one you put the letter in, I'll get it."

"You're quite experienced in this, too."

The man smiled, a vicious sneer briefly crossing his features before quickly vanishing, "In our line of work, conflicts with others are inevitable."

"Then we'll leave you here," Bruce said as he stopped the car. This was the suburban area they passed when entering the city, featuring a neighborhood of wealthy villas.

The man glanced at the surroundings, his expression slightly changing but he revealed nothing more. Seeing his reaction, Bruce knew he had gambled correctly; this guy's home was likely somewhere around here.

The man got out of the car. Bruce untied his hands and said, "With today's bank incident, the police might come looking for you. You know what to say. We're leaving now."

After that, he got in the car without another glance at the man and headed back into the city.

"You're really something, aren't you?" the pale knight said with an oddly intoned voice. "You look like you've done this sort of thing plenty of times."

"Oh, please, you flatter me."

The pale knight rolled his eyes. Bruce's slick maneuvers couldn't be perfected in just ten or eight tries. It made him wonder who had suffered at the hands of the Gotham in his universe.

First, they targeted the bank. Those who come to the bank for business, while not always extremely wealthy, stumble upon a few rich ones eventually. If not here, then somewhere else.

They identified the target as soon as they entered the bank and used the bank robbery as a diversion to get the man out. Through intimidation and bribery, they extracted information and most likely landed an assassin deal.

Yes, the pale knight believed that the wealthy man they had kidnapped was truly tempted. Despite today's fright, nobody who gets to the top of their field is a coward.

At first, he may have been panicked, but in the end, they prioritize profit.

From bits and pieces of conversation, the pale knight also surmised that the city had long been suffering under the Sirteck family. With the city being small and industry limited, the Sirteck family's control over the city was even tighter than the Wayne family's grip on Gotham.

To make a living here, you'd have to work under their thumb. It might have been bearable before, but as the man had said, Old Sirteck had recently gone mad, likely due to his bizarre research needing too much money. Without money, he naturally had to start slaughtering his fattest lambs.

These people had been mixing in this city for so long, related to the Sirteck family. But clear accounts make good friends, and once interests are involved, even the closest of kin need to step aside. It's not strange at all to stab the other for money.

This man must have been pushed to desperation recently. Originally working in construction, he'd seen his share of shady deals. With the city police slacking, he'd never had issues with his few jobs before. This time, chances were high he wanted to seize an opportunity to bite back.

No problem for this guy, but for them having to play the role of the gun, the problem was significant.

"Do you really want to kill Old Sirtex?" The pale knight stared at Bruce's profile and asked.

"It depends on his performance," Bruce replied.