NOVEL NEXT Chapter 339: Rich!
Whoa!!!
In an instant, the scene exploded.
The reporters seated and ready to take notes on how Bruce Wayne would begin to quibble were stunned. They had prepared to dissect every word, catch inconsistencies, analyze ambiguities, and craft conclusive headlines with clever spins.
Now, none of that was needed. The entire hall froze, then erupted into chaos.
Reporters leapt from their seats. A female journalist who had previously sat with poise now subtly shifted her posture toward Bruce Wayne.
Flashes from cameras burst repeatedly, silver-white light flashing nonstop.
"Is it true?"
"Mr. Wayne, how do you feel about being revealed as the Batman of the night?"
"Excuse me, Batman, is this another one of your jokes?"
"Why did you become Batman?"
"Has being Batman satisfied your darker impulses?"
"There are images of the Batmobile and Batwing. Can we take a look?"
"Is defying Gotham's law enforcement part of your act, Mr. Batman?"
"How do you plan to deal with Gotham's criminal underworld going forward, Batman?"
"Are you going out on patrol tonight?"
In an instant, countless reporters rushed forward, microphones nearly shoved into Bardi's face.
Even Alfred, standing beside Bruce, was shocked speechless.
Sir, this is not a proper joke.
Just as Bardi was about to speak again, Alfred swiftly stepped in, cutting off the microphones and ordering the security to isolate the reporters and shut down the press conference.
It was nothing short of a world-shaking announcement. Alfred quietly wiped sweat from his brow. His master had not warned him about any of this. Even knowing Bruce's brilliant mind and countless contingency plans, this caught him completely off guard.
Too many things were implicated.
Wayne Enterprises' stock, official channels, even the military, Gotham's municipal government, city council members—all would react. Not to mention retaliation from Gotham's underworld. Batman had beaten them down nine times out of ten. Revenge was practically inevitable.
What worried Alfred most was not Bruce himself, but the safety of the Wayne Enterprises staff.
He already had a headache.
"Dear reporters, today's press conference ends here. We'll release more information later," Alfred announced.
He then led the way, clearing a path with the security team, shielding Bardi as they exited.
Though aged, Alfred's body was still strong. The discipline from his early years as a British agent and years of continued training allowed him to handle any emergency with speed and precision.
As they stepped into the hallway, Alfred spoke into Bardi's ear with a trace of exasperation. "Master, I did not receive any notice that you were going to admit to being Batman. You know… you're not the Joker."
Bardi gave a faint smile and followed Alfred along the marble floor, which reflected his own silhouette.
"Plans change, Alfred. Surprises happen."
Bardi adjusted the lapels of his suit, looking at his reflection in the glass wall of the corridor. The figure was strong, the suit well-fitted. He looked like a man of maturity and trust.
"Then please inform me next time, sir. My old heart can't take this."
"Sorry, Alfred. I'll notify you next time."
"Contact the Elliott family, the Kane family, and the Cobblepot family of Gotham. I want their heads at dinner tomorrow night. We need to discuss Gotham's future."
"Also, give the Wayne Innovative Network Technology Department full independence. I need to build something new."
"I'll issue a plan to the Military and Weapons Division. Put all other projects on hold. Manufacture according to my design."
"I want top contacts in the U.S. military to coordinate with Congress. I have a batch of weapons to discuss with them. They'll be interested."
"Contact the mayor of Gotham. The GCPD too—actually, never mind. Gotham's too corrupt. I'll bypass them through Congress. We'll initiate a city-wide surveillance overhaul and revamp the Crime City Reform Plan."
"The current mayor is a Wayne Group supporter, right? Gordon is still deputy commissioner? We're backing him. He needs to be promoted to commissioner soon."
"And finally, Alfred, I need a mercenary unit. The best. Most elite. Around a thousand people."
"My current personal assets are roughly 7.6 billion dollars. I'll burn it all to fund Gotham's reform."
Bardi stepped into the elevator without emotion. "That's all for now."
Alfred felt dizzy. He tried to remember everything Bardi had just said.
"Master… what are you trying to do?"
He followed Bardi into the elevator, stunned. He sensed something was off.
It felt like his master was preparing for an unprecedented upheaval.
Just investing his personal wealth alone was enough to shake the foundations.
Not to mention, Bruce still held a large stake in Wayne Enterprises. Combined with the corporation's subsidiaries and real estate, his total assets easily exceeded $100 billion. Hard to estimate, really.
And this was around the year 2000. Far from the inflated economy of 2018 where billionaires became common.
It was clear that Bruce's true superpower was wealth. And it wasn't just talk.
But the unsettling part was that Bardi didn't seem to care about that money at all. Because he had even more. A bigger empire. The wealth of Bruce Wayne was like scraps to him.
"Gotham is sick. And it's going to get worse."
Bardi said calmly.
The elevator doors slowly closed. The polished steel reflected Bruce's steady, mature face and calm eyes. Behind him, Alfred frowned, already calculating and planning based on his master's words.
Suddenly—
Just as the elevator was about to close—
A pair of large hands reached in and jammed the doors.
The elevator trembled slightly, jolting as those strong hands forced the doors apart.
The gap widened. The elevator, instead of reopening from motion sensors, was pushed open by brute strength.
A dull-faced man with black-rimmed glasses and messy hair forced his way in. A Metropolitan Daily reporter badge hung from his chest. Behind him, bodyguards rushed forward.
He looked up as he struggled to speak.
(To be continued.)