บท 24: Unspoken Tensions
So, he let himself be captured without resistance.
"Are you planning to keep me pinned here forever?" Avery tilted his head slightly, meeting Bruce's gaze with an unflinching look, his tone relaxed as he calmly observed the man before him. Bruce wore a white shirt, its top buttons undone, giving him a slightly disheveled, casual appearance.
Bruce looked down at him, his sharp gaze seeming to dissect Avery, as if he wanted to completely and thoroughly examine him, inside and out.
After a long pause, Bruce finally spoke, slowly: "I always feel like if I don't keep a close eye on you, you'll do something reckless the moment I look away. You've been like this since you were a child, haven't you?"
And even now, Bruce thought.
Back then, Avery's more extreme tendencies hadn't been so apparent, since nothing like this had ever happened. But now, it was clear from this recent event—Avery had no reservations about killing. His actions were self-driven, acting entirely on his own impulses, unrestrained by any laws or moral codes.
A person like this…
Bruce's gaze darkened as he considered it.
Avery, unbothered, smiled lightly. "If you're referring to what happened recently, then I apologize. After all, this is your city, and I shouldn't have gone against your wishes. I promise, this won't happen again."
Avery always kept his promises. Even Bruce couldn't argue with that. What surprised him was how quickly Avery had relented, catching him off guard. The anger Bruce had built up suddenly dissipated, like air escaping from a balloon.
Bruce found himself feeling a bit exasperated all of a sudden.
Avery finished speaking and waited for Bruce's response. However, after a while, Bruce remained silent for reasons unknown, leaving Avery somewhat puzzled. Just as he was about to ask, Bruce suddenly spoke:
"Why did you really come back to Gotham?"
Avery, who had just freed his hands from the iron grip that had held him, placed them on Bruce's warm, well-developed chest muscles, testingly giving them a push. He couldn't move him.
Silently, Avery withdrew his hand, ignoring the now slightly inscrutable look in Bruce's eyes, and casually replied, "What? Do you think I have some hidden agenda for this city? I told you I came back to inherit the family business, didn't I?"
Bruce looked at him intently. "You know those vague explanations don't work on me, Avery. I didn't press you on it before because I trusted that you wouldn't do anything harmful. But now, I want an explanation."
"So, have I done something wrong now?" Avery couldn't help but find it a bit amusing, though Bruce's reaction was understandable. Bruce, who was once a sweet child, had developed an increasingly obsessive personality ever since the death of the Wayne family.
Avery sighed, conceding once again—he'd lost count of how many times now. "Alright, if you insist. I came back to Gotham to take care of some business. Once it's done, I'll leave. So, you don't have to worry anymore."
Bruce pressed further, "What kind of business?"
But this time, Avery didn't answer. Instead, he remained silent for a moment, then smiled as he raised his index finger to his lips.
"It's a secret."
He slowly whispered the word.
It was as if time had rewound to the beginning, back to the ruins of Wayne Manor, when Avery had said something similar. Only this time, it seemed more serious and mysterious.
Bruce stared at him for a long time without saying a word. No one could guess what was going through his mind at that moment.
"No…" After a while, Bruce muttered softly.
"What?" Avery almost thought he'd misheard.
Bruce looked at him. "I said, you don't have to leave."
Avery was a bit confused. "If I don't leave, then where would I go? Aren't you afraid that I might do something to this city?"
"No."
Avery suddenly found this interesting. He stretched out his hand in the confined space between them, gently pinching Bruce's chin and tilting his face toward his own. He gazed at Bruce seriously and said, "With you speaking so sparingly, I can't guess what you're really trying to say."
"..."
"So, what are you thinking about?"
"..."
"Not planning to talk, huh?"
Avery pondered, trying to figure out what was going on in Bruce's head. He knew Bruce well—though he wasn't speaking, his mind was probably racing, thoughts streaming at a mile a minute.
Just then, there was a sudden knock at the door to their right.
*Knock knock knock.*
Alfred's voice followed promptly.
"Gentlemen, are we done with the conversation? Dinner will be ready soon."
The previously charged atmosphere instantly dissipated, though Avery never realized it had existed in the first place.
...
The date for Margaret's trial arrived quickly.
Bruce Wayne had secured two seats in the courtroom gallery, eager to witness the outcome of a case he had helped investigate from the shadows. Avery accompanied him.
In the courtroom, the elderly judge presided from the highest seat, looking down on everyone. Directly below him was the court clerk, responsible for recording the proceedings. To the left of the clerk was the witness stand.
To the right of the judge sat the jury. Twelve jurors, selected by both the defense and prosecution, were seated in two rows, attentively observing the trial. They held the power to determine the existence of guilt.
Below the clerk's desk and the witness stand were the plaintiff and defendant benches. Further down was the gallery, where several representatives from relevant institutions, as well as members of the public and scholars curious about the case, were seated.
At the sound of the judge's words, the plaintiff's representative began presenting an overview of the case, submitted physical evidence, and called witnesses to testify.
Everything was going smoothly—until one of the witnesses suddenly changed his testimony regarding Margaret's involvement in repeatedly conspiring with caretakers to abuse children during her tenure.
The judge raised a formal question, his voice calm but firm: ''By changing your statement now, you admit that your previous testimony was false. Mr. Roger Wood, are you certain you want to amend your statement?''
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