Marvel: The Sole Player

"Getting back to the point, where exactly do your abilities come from?"

Bruce made no attempt to conceal his intent to probe.

Based on his judgment, Darian wasn’t deliberately hiding his thoughts; his attitude was so casual it bordered on lazy.

Beating around the bush with this kind of person was a waste of time. Asking directly was the most efficient way to extract useful information.

"That’s a long story."

Darian’s expression suddenly deepened, his gaze drifting slowly toward the ceiling, as if tracing a distant memory.

"It was back in high school. I was bitten by a radioactive spider at a school science fair, and afterward, my body began to mutate, granting me abilities far beyond those of an ordinary person."

"Later on, my uncle met with an accident. Before he passed, he told me a principle: with great power..."

"...comes great responsibility."

Bruce finished the sentence expressionlessly. "If I recall correctly, that is the story of Peter Parker."

Darian looked surprised. "You, a Batman, have actually read Marvel comics?"

"I know a thing or two."

Bruce said in a flat tone.

In fact, he had Alfred collect every publication about Spider-Man on the market, not even sparing the Marvel comics featuring Spider-Man.

Afterward, he spent several full days reading them from cover to cover without missing a page.

Now, his understanding of Spider-Man was even deeper than that of most hardcore fans.

Darian laughed. "Then you should know that every World has a Spider-Man, and I am the Spider-Man of this World."

Bruce pointed out coldly, "As far as I know, Spider-Man does not kill."

Darian retorted on the spot, "That’s a stereotype. I know a Shadow Spider-Man who not only kills but also fights with guns. Besides, I didn’t kill anyone; I just put them to sleep."

Bruce was not a good straight man; he didn’t make any snarky remarks and just remained silent.

The awkward silence lasted for five or six seconds before he spoke again. "Where did that equipment of yours come from? Don’t tell me there’s also an Iron Man in this World."

Darian was very surprised. "You really do know a lot about Marvel."

In the original Marvel setting, that Iron Man Suit of Spider-Man’s was created by Iron Man.

Bruce could rattle off such details easily; his familiarity almost rivaled that of a reader who hadn’t been in the fandom for long.

Then again, as the dignified father of DC, was it really appropriate to pay so much attention to a rival’s publications?

"That’s a secret. In any case, it’s not like you, obtained by selling hooks."

Darian refused to elaborate on this topic.

Hearing this, the corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched slightly.

This meme was never going to die, was it?

He suddenly regretted sending The Penguin to Arkham Asylum; now he couldn’t even find a chance to drag him out and beat him up.

Bruce wanted to speak again, but Darian raised his hand to interrupt. "Alright, your time is up. Consider that pile of stuff as the consultation fee."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Those things you stole are conservatively estimated to be worth over eight figures."

"What ’stole’? That was ’picked up.’ Don’t go making false accusations."

Darian corrected him seriously, then glared and said, "My consultation fee is exactly that amount. If you think it’s expensive, I think it’s expensive too. Do you want it or not?"

As a result, Bruce waved his hand. "Of course I do. With such an affordable price, how could I not? Let’s continue at this rate for a few more hours, and I’ll pay it all at once."

Darian: "..."

A person with the power of money—truly terrifying!

But who was Darian? How could he be easily swayed by a little money? A mere eight-figure consultation fee...

"Mr. Wayne, wait a moment. Let me brew a pot of tea, and we can chat while we drink."

The speed at which Darian changed his expression left Bruce stunned.

Next, the two had a quite pleasant exchange. The atmosphere was as harmonious as old friends catching up, with none of the initial confrontation.

Bruce lamented his regret. If he had known money could solve it, he should have thrown a check in Darian’s face the moment he walked in.

If a problem can be solved with money, can it even be called a problem?

Of course, Darian didn’t actually chat with Bruce for several hours; it stopped in less than an hour.

Bruce felt he had gathered quite a bit of intelligence, so being interrupted suddenly left him wanting more.

"Why stop? How long has it even been?"

Darian retorted, "Bruce, did you forget that you’re supposed to be the silent and stoic type? We’ve been chatting for nearly an hour. Since you’re such a chatterbox, stop calling yourself Bruce Wayne and change your name to Bruce Wade."

Bruce had only done his homework on Spider-Man and completely missed this reference from Darian.

He said righteously, "That’s Batman’s persona; what does that have to do with me, Bruce Wayne?"

Darian was shocked. "Bruce, when did you become so shameless?"

"Of course, I learned it from you."

Bruce chuckled, seizing the opportunity to counterattack.

Darian widened his eyes. "Then why don’t you learn from my shining qualities? Like honesty, kindness, humility, a sense of responsibility... (omitted five thousand words here), and instead fixate on learning those insignificant little flaws?"

Bruce: "..."

When it comes to shamelessness, you are ultimately one step ahead.

"Alright, I won’t scam you out of your money. I’ll give you this, consider it covering the consultation fee for the next few hours."

Darian took out a bottle of life potion and tossed it to Bruce.

Bruce caught it steadily and examined the bottle in his hand. "What is this?"

"A life potion. Just drink one bottle, and it can heal most injuries without any side effects."

Bruce looked suspicious.

This isn’t scamming me? How is this any different from selling health supplements?

Seeing that Bruce didn’t believe him, Darian said happily, "You happen to have an injury on you. Drink a bottle and you’ll know."

Bruce frowned.

He wasn’t worried about Darian poisoning him. If the other party really wanted to make a move on him, there were plenty of opportunities. The pot of tea alone had been refilled countless times; there was no need to go to such lengths.

After a moment of hesitation, Bruce unscrewed the cap and poured the liquid into his mouth, but didn’t finish it all, leaving a little at the bottom.

The next moment, a long-lost sense of relief emerged from his body.

The injured areas no longer throbbed with pain, and his entire state rapidly recovered, even feeling a bit better than usual.

Bruce’s pupils contracted sharply.

He quickly tore off the bandages on his hands and tried moving his wrists a few times.

The joints that used to sting with every movement were now incredibly flexible; he couldn’t even feel a trace of the injury.

Bruce looked up, the shock in his eyes undisguised.

Wayne Enterprises possessed the World’s most advanced medical technology. Even using the best resources, these injuries of his would take at least ten days to fully recover.

Yet this so-called life potion had taken only a few seconds from ingestion to full recovery.

Bruce quickly regained his composure, his eyes suddenly lighting up.

Although he had always had a principle of never seeking supernatural abilities and relying solely on his own capabilities to fight criminals, he wouldn’t refuse a medicine like the life potion that was purely for healing injuries.

After all, he was just a mortal with no super-healing ability. Every time he returned from night patrol, he would add a few new injuries—minor ones like bruises, major ones like fractures—which greatly reduced his efficiency during the recovery period.

If he possessed the life potion, his efficiency in the future would definitely double.

Bruce asked eagerly, "How many more of these life potions do you have?"

Darian spread his hands. "I haven’t counted."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

This clearly meant there was a large stock. If the quantity were small, how could he not know the exact number?

He said immediately, "Can you sell me some? The price will be double... oh no, five times the standard of the consultation fee just now."

Darian was stunned by Bruce’s behavior of throwing money at problems.

"How many bottles do you want?"

"One hundred bottles."

"None. Get lost."

Ultimately, after some back-and-forth, Bruce bought a few bottles of life potion from Darian at a unit price five times the consultation fee.

Darian felt he had made a killing, and Bruce also felt he had made a killing.

This was a win-win.

Bruce stood up, satisfied, and took his leave. He stopped at the door, turned back, and tossed out a line: "If you do anything dangerous, I will definitely do everything in my power to stop you."

Darian was not to be outdone and sneered, "Then I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice. You’d better wash your ass and get ready to go to Arkham and pick up soap with your fans."

Bruce was choked speechless.

He knew his own situation; at the end of the day, he, as Batman, was an outlaw. Any law student could list a long string of charges against him.

The only reason he could operate in Gotham without obstruction was entirely due to the tacit approval of Director Gordon.

Batman helped the Gotham City Police Department fight criminals, and the Gotham City Police Department turned a blind eye to Batman’s issues. Both sides maintained a certain tacit understanding.

But while he could freely use vigilante justice on those super-criminals, he couldn’t lay a finger on Darian.

Because in the official files, Darian was a genuine, active-duty police officer. If Batman dared to attack an active-duty officer, the nature of the situation would completely change, and even Gordon wouldn’t sit idly by.

Bruce didn’t say anything more and turned to walk out the door.

Darian shook his head. "Still has to drop a tough line before leaving. This Batman’s persona baggage is really heavy."

After discovering Bruce had left, Selina walked out of the room with a shocked expression.

"Batman’s real identity is actually Bruce Wayne!?"

Her hearing was far superior to that of an ordinary person; even through a door, she could hear most of their conversation.

She never expected to stumble upon such a shocking piece of gossip.

Gotham’s Dark Knight was actually the richest man in Gotham, that playboy who spent his days appearing at all sorts of parties.

The impact of this news was as absurd as someone telling you that a certain national heartthrob was Batman.

Darian nodded. "That’s right. By day he plays the playboy, and by night he transforms into Batman to fight criminals. He’s been doing it for over a decade, day in and day out—a true master of time management."

Selina struggled to digest this fact and asked, "If Batman’s opponents knew about this, they would probably be terrified, right?"

Darian glanced at her. "Who told you they didn’t know?"

"Huh?"

Selina widened her eyes. "Could it be they’ve known Batman’s real identity all along?"

"Most probably don’t know, but some definitely have known for a long time."

Darian said calmly, "Just think about it. Who in Gotham has the financial resources to afford a tank or jet that costs hundreds of millions to build, and can even throw them away like fireworks when necessary? It’s not like Batman actually got all these things by selling hooks, right?"

Selina asked in surprise, "Since they know Batman’s real identity, why haven’t they exposed it? They are Batman’s mortal enemies, after all."

"Because they only like playing games with Batman, not Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne would only make them feel bored. The entire criminal circle of Gotham consists of Batman’s fans—that’s not a joke."

Selina: ( all)

This circle is so messed up.

Darian grinned. "Of course, there is one more major reason. Once they expose Bruce Wayne’s identity, he would absolutely, without hesitation, abandon this surface identity and throw himself into the great cause of being a Superhero."

"By then, Batman would have no restrictions at all. What they would be facing is a Batman on standby 24/7, and their fates would be absolutely more miserable than they are now."

Selina swallowed, feeling a chill down her spine just thinking about it.

Darian stood up. "Don’t just stand there. Pack your things; get ready to move."

"Move?"

Selina snapped back and asked quickly, "Are you worried that Batman will retaliate, so you’re running away in advance?"

"No."

Darian sighed. "You don’t understand Batman. That guy has a severe case of persecution complex. If a dog walks by him, it could end up with several pounds of surveillance equipment on it. Since he stayed in the house for so long just now, I’m afraid this place is no longer usable."

Selina: "..."

Is it really that exaggerated?

But fortunately, the consultation fee Bruce gave was more than enough to buy several larger houses.

Darian planned to buy a new house in Gotham and then acquire property in several other cities.

Now that no major crisis had appeared, he needed to make preparations in advance, traveling to various famous cities to open up the map and activate teleportation points in each city.

If a crisis event occurred in any place in the future, he could arrive at the scene immediately.

After making up his mind, Darian set his first target as Metropolis.

The reason for choosing Metropolis was simple.

For one, Metropolis was relatively close to Gotham, and for another, Metropolis was Superman’s territory.

How powerful was Superman?

It’s no exaggeration to say that the entire Justice League was just Superman and his few accessories.

As long as Superman didn’t unleash a flood, the other Justice League members combined probably wouldn’t be enough to fight him alone.

Under such combat power, the super-villains capable of acting as Superman’s opponents naturally wouldn’t be simple; their combat power was basically on par with, or even stronger than, Superman.

Their existence was, in itself, a terrible crisis for the entire Earth.

Unlike Gotham, which was always just the petty squabbles of Batman and his criminal fans.

Not to mention the entire Earth, it was hard for them to even affect other cities; it couldn’t really be called a major crisis.

Unless Joker drove to Metropolis overnight, used Lois to force Superman to say something heart-wrenching, and plunged the whole World into Infinite Tsukuyomi... wait, no, into the rule of Injustice Superman.

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