April 19, 1989. Around 10 AM.
In Wayne Tower at the very heart of Central Island, another meeting with external partners of Wayne Enterprises was taking place—of which, in the month and a half since Bruce Wayne had become owner of the company, there had been a considerable number, though Bruce himself rarely attended what seemed like such important events.
While inside a decently-sized office on one of the building's upper floors, numerous discussions about the business future of Wayne Enterprises were underway, Bruce simply stood outside the door, waiting for it to end—he didn't particularly feel like going in, knowing the stuffy atmosphere within. People waiting often like to light a cigarette, but Bruce was a non-smoker on principle, so he limited himself to cups of plain water he'd occasionally pour from the cooler.
After about ten minutes of waiting since his arrival—given the meeting had already been going on for about an hour by then—Bruce saw the large double doors beside him open, and a considerable crowd of men in suits filed out.
Bruce just looked at them, casting a brief glance at each one. He didn't know any of them personally, and would never have known their names or the companies they represented if not for the badges on their left breast pockets.
Of course, none of them could miss the opportunity to glance at the richest man in all of Gotham standing behind them, regarding them with an expressionless stare.
Although the glances Bruce caught in return were almost blank, he only needed to look at the condition of the suits and hair of the departing men to understand what they were like. Those whose suits were slightly worn—almost imperceptibly, given how impeccably the suits were pressed—on the sides, Bruce immediately identified as people who often put their hands on their hips, meaning they preferred to oversee work from the sidelines rather than participate. In those whose hair was at least slightly unevenly combed, Bruce could deduce a lack of people in their circle who might look after their appearance, marking them as rather lonely individuals.
Once all the people had left the hall, Bruce finally decided to step inside himself, tossing another plastic cup into the trash.
Bruce Wayne: "You know, to think if father miscalculated anywhere, it was in optimizing processes concerning himself."
Lucius Fox: "That's for you to decide. I just hope that soon you'll start giving me hints on how to properly respond to such provocative questions."
Bruce Wayne: "That's what makes them provocative, Lucius. Besides, don't act like you don't know the answer. You're lucky I'm not too bothered by your opinion on this. I'd advise you to be at least a little grateful that I pulled you out of that basement."
Lucius Fox: "Right, pulled me out of the basement and stuck me in the attic. Though from up here, at least the view is better than underground."
Bruce Wayne: "See? My promise that under my leadership you'd like it in the company is already fulfilled."
Lucius Fox, putting the last batch of papers into a cabinet: "Alright, I'll give you that. It only took a one with a half of a month." With these words, Bruce and Lucius left the hall, and after Lucius closed the door behind them, headed for the elevator.
Bruce Wayne: "Is that a enough short time to restructure a massive corporation like ours?"
Lucius Fox: "Hmm, didn't even notice when I'd climbed the ladder so high that you're now calling your company 'ours'."
Bruce Wayne, pressing the elevator call button: "Technically, you're at the top now, so don't complain. You're in charge of external business relations now."
Lucius Fox: "Amazing that I'm only at the top when you're not here."
Bruce Wayne: "It'll be good for you not to get too full of yourself."
Lucius Fox: "As if I have so many occasions for that." At that moment, they both enter the elevator, and Lucius presses the button for the basement.
Bruce Wayne: "But you'll obviously have more now. Especially considering how you do your work, if you catch my drift."
Lucius Fox: "You mean you want to hear what happened at the meeting. As usual, nothing out of the ordinary. Some iron mining company, operating a mine about twenty miles southwest of Gotham, offered us an investment opportunity. But there's a catch."
Bruce Wayne: "I already figured—that mine only exists on paper."
Lucius Fox: "And even then, only on the map they shoved in my face. And now, I'll be waiting for you to figure out how to catch those crooks. I hear they've already made about six million from this 'mine'."
Bruce Wayne: "Catching such crooks is also my job, Lucius. You'll send a couple of our agents out there to scout the location. Then we'll offer them integration into Wayne Enterprises—that way they can't run off with the money if it becomes our money. Then we'll simply dissolve their company, and if they try to sue, we have the trump card: evidence of fraud."
Lucius Fox: "Remind me later never to doubt that you already have a plan for solving any problem, even one you've never heard of."
Bruce Wayne: "Instead, I'll remind you that buttering me up doesn't work, that's all."
Lucius Fox: "If you want to take it that way, that's your right."
Bruce Wayne: "Moving on. Now, about current business. How's our baby?"
Lucius Fox: "Still in the womb, but the fetus is developing by the hour, not the day."
Bruce Wayne: "That's slow, considering you've had two weeks."
Lucius Fox: "You're the one who moved me from the basement to the top floor."
When they reached the basement, they were greeted by something resembling a mini-tank, only on six wheels with an engine like a race car's, though it was hard to call it a car—it was practically just a frame.
Lucius Fox: "Care to test-drive it?"
Bruce Wayne: "Not in such an enclosed space."
Lucius Fox: "Oh no, your tricks won't work on me."
A minute later, Bruce was tearing around the—admittedly spacious, but still limited—basement, while Lucius sat beside him. Surprisingly, given the vehicle's speed, it was very maneuverable.
Lucius Fox, trying to shout over the engine noise: "Top speed will be about 185 miles an hour when I'm done! It'll hit it in 5.7 seconds, with armor it'll be around eight seconds!"
Bruce Wayne, stopping the vehicle and getting out: "Slow." He says after a short pause.
Lucius Fox, getting out as well: "Too bad, that's the best I can do. With all the armor and gadgets you ordered me to load it with, its redline will be about 175, tops."
Bruce Wayne: "Then let's change the concept. Drop out two wheels, leave four—that'll reduce weight and road friction. Can add another race-spec engine in the back. Same with the bodywork to fix aerodynamics. It'll affect durability, but the front can be buffed, which won't impact weight much."
Lucius Fox: "If your plan from the start was to give me an impossible task, then show me how you'd solve it by completely removing all the conditions, you could have said so earlier."
Bruce Wayne: "I also want to ditch all the guns out of it. Focus on locomation. It's important that the car can not only move fast, but also eliminate any factors that might hinder that."
Lucius Fox: "Then we can add a ramming function to the front, and deployable grapnels for crossing rivers. Considering the car will be made of hardened steel with ceramic fractal armor panels, its top speed could increase to about 210 miles an hour."
Bruce Wayne: "See, you can do it when you want to."
Lucius Fox: "More precisely, when there's motivation. I'll need about another two weeks."
Bruce Wayne: "You don't have resource struggles anymore, so get to work."
Lucius Fox: "I'm not exactly idle here." By that time, Bruce was already turning to leave the basement. "One more thing, Mr. Wayne—you haven't forgotten what day it is today?"
Bruce Wayne: "No, which is why you need to hurry up."
Lucius Fox: "Oh, nothing serious. Just that we now have land rights in the north of Central Island."
Bruce Wayne: "You should have led with that. Find someone to handle it. I'm off." He says, exiting the basement toward the elevator.