The strength behind it was clearly meant to kill her outright!
Margaret grasped her neck, struggling against the force, trying to gain even a breath of fresh air. As she stared at the man in disbelief, she gasped out, "You! You... you didn't keep your promise..."
The man dismissed her protests lightly: "I only promised not to harm you; I never said I wouldn't kill you."
Margaret felt a surge of desperation. He clearly hadn't intended to spare her from the beginning. As she was on the verge of being strangled to death, she thought quickly and shouted in a halting voice, "I... I didn't delete all the information. If you kill me... the information will still... be spread!"
In reality, she had deleted everything, and even she found it puzzling afterward, wondering why she had been so obedient. But now, faced with life and death, she could only try to bluff him, hoping it would have some effect.
To her surprise, the man seemed amused by her words.
He replied, "Did you think your obedience was because you were wise to the situation?"
Indeed! Why had she been so compliant in deleting all her backup plans?
Suddenly, the man sitting motionless on the sofa before her dissipated like smoke, only to reappear by the window a short distance away. He gazed silently out into the night, as if he had been standing there for a long time.
In a moment of daze, she suddenly gained clarity.
It turned out that from the very beginning, her every move had been under his control, and she had been completely unaware of it.
Thus, she died in despair.
...
Meanwhile, in the basement of the Wayne household.
"Mr. Nobody, report the situation."
The voice of Batman came through the communicator, accompanied by the sound of the Batmobile speeding through the night as he pursued a group of Black Fang members.
"There are four gunmen in their vehicle, including the driver. They also have backup waiting in a warehouse not far ahead."
The man known as Mr. Nobody responded concisely based on satellite monitoring.
As Batman shot a newly developed Batarang from Lucius that would release hypnotic smoke, he was focused on the situation with his newly acquired son, yet he couldn't help but notice the butler's unusual silence tonight.
"Why are you so quiet tonight?"
Normally, the butler would be teasing him at this point, telling him to know his limits, that it was not shameful to surrender if he couldn't win, and that even Batman had the right to do so.
"Why are you so quiet tonight?"
The voice traveled through the communicator into the dimly lit basement. The person sitting at the computer desk sat stiffly like a sculpture, his eyes fixed almost motionlessly ahead, with no emotion visible on his face.
"He" opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a long, powerful hand reached out of nowhere and snatched away his communicator.
The newcomer's lips curled into a smile as he spoke into the communicator with a somewhat ambiguous expression, shamelessly saying, "Isn't it nice to be quiet? Do you want me to keep chatting like I did that night to keep you entertained?"
Batman nearly slipped as he drove, involuntarily recalling that night when the wizard, unlike ordinary people, had managed to talk non-stop for an entire night without losing his voice.
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he replied sternly, "Irrelevant topics are not allowed in the communicator."
On the other end, seeing his master return, the automaton vacated the seat. Avert took his place, putting the communicator back on as he gestured for the automaton to make him a cup of coffee, while also complaining to Batman:
"You're the one who said I was too quiet, yet you're the one who doesn't let me speak. Do you want me to talk or not? Huh?"
It did sound a bit excessive, and Batman was momentarily at a loss for words. However, as someone who wielded power, he didn't mind taking advantage of his butler a little more; after all, this wasn't the first time he had done such a thing—he was quite used to it.
"Be quiet for now; you can talk at other times."
He cleared his throat and continued the chase after the criminals.
This time it was Avery's turn to be dumbfounded and chuckle. He accepted the cup of coffee handed to him by the automaton, took a sip, shook his head, and chose not to speak further...
The next day.
Someone was once again turning day into night.
When Avery got up early to sort through the newspapers delivered by the press, he took a moment to glance at them and discovered that the news about his master adopting Dick Grayson had indeed caught the attention of the sharp-eyed media.
Almost every newspaper mentioned the event, as if Bruce Wayne adopting a child was some monumental news. It felt like not publishing a solemn article about it would mean falling behind the times; there were all kinds of speculations swirling around.
Heh, in this regard, Bruce Wayne had certainly made an outstanding contribution to the livelihoods of a large portion of Gotham's media.
The butler shook his head, neatly stacking one ironed newspaper with the others he had prepared before moving on to the next one.
At that moment, a headline caught his attention with a distinct twist.
<<Cannibalistic Maniac Hannibal Successfully Escapes from Prison Again—How Many More Will Suffer Misfortune?>>
A cannibal?
Avery felt a subtle shift in his heart. He remembered that in his previous world, there had been a specific group of people like that. However, those people were evil wizards seeking to gain power or fulfilling some ritualistic requirement. As a legitimate wizard, he generally dealt with them by killing them on sight.
Since this man had been locked up in prison, he must be an ordinary person. Avery pondered how such an existence could occur—was it a result of some psychological disorder, or merely a simple obsession?