Bruce Wayne.
The name echoed faintly through his mind as awareness returned in fragments, like broken glass slowly piecing itself back together. His eyelids fluttered, heavy and uncooperative, and the first thing he registered was motion—his body jostling with every step of whoever was carrying him. The rhythmic pounding beneath him, the rush of air, and the distant clatter of footsteps blurred into a dull haze until, at last, a sharp chime rang out somewhere nearby, cutting cleanly through the fog.
"Dam?"
Voices overlapped in his ears, some concerned, others confused, all pressing in at once as sensation gradually returned to his limbs. Before he could make sense of anything, the movement stopped, and his body was lowered carefully onto something soft. The tension in his muscles eased slightly as the cushioning beneath him absorbed his weight, and the world around him began to settle into focus.
Emily yawned, though the worry in her eyes didn't fade as she looked down at the young man stretched across the sofa. His clothes were thin, clearly not suited for the chill of the early morning, and his pale face carried an unmistakable refinement that stood out even in unconsciousness. There was something undeniably striking about him, even in such a vulnerable state.
"Dam, why did you bring him here?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. "Shouldn't he be in a hospital?"
Dam scratched the back of his head, looking slightly embarrassed as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Hey, the hospital's too far. I figured this was faster."
As he spoke, Bruce's eyes finally opened, faint confusion lingering in their depths as he took in the unfamiliar ceiling above him. The moment Dam noticed the movement, his entire expression lit up with excitement, and he hurried forward.
"This guy's my classmate," Dam said quickly, his tone almost proud. "Didn't expect to run into him here. He's the famous Bruce—Bruce Wayne!"
Emily blinked, her expression blank with confusion, while Locke remained silent, simply watching.
Dam's enthusiasm faltered under their reactions, and he let out a helpless sigh. "What, you've never heard of him?"
Bruce rubbed his temple, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes as he pushed himself upright. The world still felt slightly off, like everything was a fraction slower than it should be.
"What happened…?" he murmured.
"You passed out on the street," Dam said, stepping closer, his excitement still barely contained. "I carried you here."
"…Thank you," Bruce replied, though his expression remained faintly puzzled.
Dam's face shifted, his brows drawing together as he pointed at himself. "Wait, don't you recognize me?"
Bruce stared at him for a moment, searching his memory, but whatever he was looking for didn't come.
"…?"
Dam sighed dramatically, shaking his head as disappointment settled across his features. "Unbelievable. We're in the same class, you know. Well… I haven't exactly been attending much lately, but still."
Bruce's expression softened with a trace of embarrassment as understanding dawned. "I'm sorry."
He stood slowly, steadying himself before turning toward Emily and Locke, who had been watching quietly from the side. Extending his hand first, he introduced himself with a composed politeness that seemed almost instinctive.
"Bruce Wayne."
One by one, he shook hands with them, his movements smooth despite the lingering weakness in his body.
"Bruce, don't you live in the Central District?" Dam asked, curiosity evident in his tone. "What are you doing all the way out here in the East District?"
"Business," Bruce replied simply. "Meeting some friends."
There was a brief pause, and then Dam let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Man, you're something else."
Locke said nothing, though he handed Bruce a glass of water without a word. His expression remained calm, unreadable, but his gaze lingered just a fraction longer than necessary.
"Thanks," Bruce said, accepting it.
Up close, Locke studied him carefully, noting the subtle details others might overlook. The sharp lines of his face, the natural confidence in his posture, even the faint hint of recklessness hidden beneath that polished exterior—it was all there. This was the man who would one day become Gotham's dark knight, though right now, he still carried the traces of youth, of arrogance not yet tempered by loss.
He hadn't expected their first meeting to happen like this.
Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten, the darkness slowly giving way to dawn.
"Thank you," Bruce said again, sincerity evident in his voice.
Not long after, the sound of a car horn echoed from outside, sharp and deliberate. Through the tavern window, an extended black sedan came into view, its sleek design standing in stark contrast to the modest surroundings of the East District.
Dam practically bounced with enthusiasm as he walked Bruce out, waving him off like they were lifelong friends. Bruce stepped into the limousine without hesitation, the door closing behind him with a quiet finality as the vehicle pulled away and disappeared down the street.
Dam stood there for a moment longer, staring after it with something close to awe.
"You have no idea how rich that guy is," he muttered.
Locke didn't respond. Instead, he turned back toward the tavern, his voice calm but firm. "It's late. Emily, go upstairs and get some rest. Dam, don't head back tonight. Stay here until morning."
"Got it," Dam said immediately, nodding as he flopped down onto the very sofa Bruce had occupied moments ago.
Emily didn't argue. She gave a small nod before heading upstairs, exhaustion evident in her steps.
Locke stepped outside, the cool air brushing against his face as he looked out over the quiet street. The world seemed peaceful for now, but he knew better than to trust that illusion.
…
The calm didn't last.
With a loud bang, the tavern door was thrown open, and a middle-aged man strode in with an excited expression, becoming the first customer of the day. Outside, the streets had already begun to stir, pedestrians moving about as they exchanged stories of the chaos that had unfolded the night before.
Dam was back on his feet, helping Emily carry drinks and plates as he chatted animatedly with a bearded man at the counter.
"What? There was a riot on Wu Neighbor Street last night?" Dam exclaimed, slapping his chest in exaggerated relief. "Good thing I didn't go that way."
The bearded man nodded, taking a swig of his drink. "You didn't hear? Batman showed up in the East District. If it weren't for him, those useless cops would've been run off again."
"Seriously?" Dam's eyes widened.
"Every resident on that street saw it," the man continued. "Those lunatics somehow got their hands on rocket launchers. Blew up an entire house. Poor people inside didn't stand a chance. Never even woke up."
The mood shifted slightly as the weight of those words settled in.
Locke glanced at Emily, noticing the concern flickering in her eyes, and spoke in a steady tone. "We should hire more staff."
Emily blinked, caught off guard before nodding quickly. The tavern had grown busier lately, and with only the three of them managing everything, it was becoming harder to keep up.
The conversation barely had time to settle before the door slammed open again with a violent crash.
A customer near the entrance was knocked flat by the force of it, letting out a startled cry as he hit the ground. Standing in the doorway was a man in a suit, his expression cold and hostile as his gaze swept over the room.
Locke's eyes narrowed slightly.
Behind him, several more men filed in, their presence heavy, oppressive, and unmistakably dangerous. They moved with confidence, pushing through the tavern as if they owned the place, until they reached the bar and fixed their attention squarely on Emily.
"Two cases of whiskey," one of them barked, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.
The sudden intensity of his tone made Emily flinch, fear flashing across her face.
Locke took a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate, but before he could act, a small hand grabbed his arm.
Emily shook her head, her expression pale but resolute.
Understanding her concern, Locke exhaled quietly, forcing the violent impulse rising within him back down.
Dam, sensing the tension, hurried over with a wide, placating smile. "Hey, take a seat, guys. I'll bring your drinks right over."
The response was immediate.
A sharp crack echoed through the tavern as Dam was struck and sent crashing to the floor.
The man who had hit him sneered, his eyes filled with disdain. "Who the hell are you? We were talking to her. What gave you the guts to interrupt?"
Dam winced but forced himself back up with Locke's help, his smile strained but still present. "No need to get rough, man."
A regular customer couldn't hold back anymore. "You guys can't just do whatever you want. The Judge's been active on this street."
The words had barely left his mouth before a gun was drawn.
The metallic click of the pistol echoed in the silence as it was pressed against the man's head.
His face went deathly pale, and whatever courage he had vanished instantly.
The tavern fell completely silent.
....
Join my exclusive P@treon community for 60+ thrilling chapters!
Link: pa*treon.com/MidnightWonder (Remove the *)
If you join now you will get 2 Chapters for free as well.
Don't miss out, join now!