After Rex explained the situation in detail, Bruce finally felt relieved, realizing that Gordon wasn’t in any real danger.
“Once the danger is over, I want to go exploring and fishing with you,” Bruce said with excitement.
It wasn’t that Rex couldn’t go out normally, but being unable to show his face publicly was always a bit inconvenient.
“I can also bring you waffles,” Rex whispered into Bruce’s ear.
“The delicious kind.”
“Awesome!”
The three of them arrived at the venue together, but Rex didn’t stay with Bruce.
He slipped quietly into the kitchen alone and stood guard on the inevitable path to the elevators.
After a long while, Rex spotted a man in a hotel staff uniform pushing a small cart toward him.
On the cart sat a large metal cylinder that looked quite heavy.
Rex immediately stepped forward to help.
The man quickly waved his hands to signal that it wasn’t necessary, but when he tried to push the cart forward, he found it firmly gripped in Rex’s hands.
“Stan Potolsky, right?”
Although phrased as a question, Rex’s tone was entirely certain.
“You have the wrong person.”
The man pushed hard to get the cart away, but he was no match for Rex’s strength.
“Don’t move.
I’m not always this amicable.” Rex’s tone turned cold as he rested a hand on the pistol concealed inside his jacket.
Seeing the gun, the man quickly nodded to confirm his identity, sporting an expression that seemed to say, If you had done that earlier, I would have admitted it right away.
“Let’s talk.”
Rex led Stan to a deserted corner.
Stan offered no resistance; his personality was actually quite introverted.
Stan Potolsky was a biochemist who had previously worked for WellZyn, researching pharmaceutical weapons to supply to the military.
This chemical weapon, inhaled into the body, massively boosted a person’s physical attributes—even allowing them to tear someone apart with their bare hands.
Named “Viper,” it was essentially a nerfed version of the Super Soldier Serum.
Stan felt the drug was far too inhumane, highly likely because he knew WellZyn was using it for shady, under-the-table activities.
Consequently, Stan decided to terminate his research.
He reported his concerns up the chain multiple times until the Waynes found out and shut the project down.
After the Waynes were murdered, Wayne Enterprises immediately restarted the “Viper” project.
Feeling that humanitarian principles had been trampled, Stan began distributing the Viper serum—despite its lethal side effects—throughout Gotham’s underclass, hoping the ensuing chaos would attract societal attention.
However, the deaths of Gotham’s lower-class citizens didn’t make any waves; they only added to Gordon’s workload.
Thus, Stan shifted his crosshairs to Gotham’s upper crust.
He planned to release a massive dose of Viper at today’s charity banquet, using an extremely inhumane terrorist attack to force all sectors of society to care about humanitarianism.
Hmm…
Rex was at a loss for words regarding Stan’s logic, but he was highly interested in the Viper serum the man had developed.
Although Viper had a fatal side effect—users would gain a brief, explosive burst of physical power, only to die as their bones completely dissolved—Rex didn’t plan on using it himself anyway.
Such a “good” thing was perfect for setting traps for others.
It would definitely come in handy in other worlds later.
“Carrying out this kind of terrorist attack won’t achieve anything other than making you a criminal,” Rex said, tapping his fingers against the metal cylinder filled with the Viper gas. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping.com.
“I have to do this!
Only when the high-and-mighty elites die will people start paying attention to the criminal activities of WellZyn and Wayne Enterprises!” Stan said, incredibly agitated.
“But you’re a criminal.
How many people believe the words of a criminal?” Rex shot back.
“Besides, there are only some middle managers from Wayne Enterprises in there.
Not a single board member showed up.
Even if everyone inside dies today, those true elites have a hundred ways to sweep this under the rug.”
Rex’s blunt remarks instantly shattered Stan’s idealistic plan.
Stan’s face twisted in clear conflict.
He was just a guy who sat in a lab; what did he know about these convoluted political maneuvers?
But his obsession had taken root too deeply to be pulled out now.
After a short moment, Stan gritted his teeth and replied, “I don’t care about all that.
It will definitely cause a sensation.”
“Yes, exactly.” Perhaps from spending too much time with Alfred, Rex’s sharp tongue had leveled up.
“And then more people will know about Viper’s existence, more elites will become interested in it, and Wayne Enterprises will get more funding to continue their research.”
Rex’s consecutive use of “more” effectively shoved all of Stan’s righteous anger right back down his throat.
“What do you want?” Stan asked.
“Come work for me.
I can help you achieve what you can’t do alone,” Rex offered.
“Heh, you’re just after the Viper serum.
You’re no different from the rest.”
“There are plenty of differences.
For instance, my enemies are also those big shots.”
Stan shook his head in refusal.
“I choose not to join.”
“Oh, alright.” Rex had only been floating the idea casually.
Now, he revealed his true objective.
“Then give me the formula for making Viper.”
“Impossible!” Stan flatly rejected.
But this time, Rex wasn’t as accommodating.
He pulled out his pistol and pointed it straight at Stan’s forehead.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.
Do you want to answer that again?”
Staring down the dark barrel of the gun, Stan gulped, suddenly lacking the courage to utter another refusal.
“Making the serum requires a precise, state-of-the-art laboratory.
You can’t make it,” Stan argued weakly.
“You just need to tell me how,” Rex replied, unmoved.
“Warehouse 39.
Everything you want is in there,” Stan sighed.
But Rex curled his lip, not buying it.
It was cleaned out ages ago.”
Rex had secretly checked Warehouse 39, which Stan mentioned in the original plot, a long time ago.
He didn’t know how long it had been since Stan himself had visited, but the equipment and data inside had been relocated for quite a while.
Seeing that Stan wasn’t going to say more, Rex had to apply a bit more pressure.
“Actually, your operation today is doomed to fail.
But if you give the Viper data to me, it will eventually get its time to shine.
When that happens, someone will inevitably look into the story behind it.”
Stan was frequently checking his watch; he was running out of time.
Hearing Rex’s reasoning, he felt somewhat persuaded.
“Hornas Apartments, Room 503A.
There’s data on Viper there too.”
That was the backup plan Stan had left for himself, but unable to withstand Rex’s relentless pressure, he had no choice but to spill it.
“Keys?” Rex gestured with his chin.
Helpless, Stan fished the room keys out of his pocket and handed them over.
“Can I go now?” Stan asked.
“Of course.” Rex holstered his gun.
He was a man of his word, after all.
Stan was finally able to transport the metal gas cylinder to the rooftop without further hitch.
Rushing against the clock, he used a hose to connect the cylinder to the hotel’s ventilation system, then pulled out his phone to broadcast his pre-recorded video on the hotel’s screens.
In the video, he denounced Wayne Enterprises’ criminal activities and announced his intention to attack the hotel.
While the crowd inside the hotel was in a state of panic and confusion, he turned the valve on the cylinder, intending to release the Viper gas.
“Huh?”
Suddenly, Stan realized something was wrong.
Why wasn’t the gas coming out?
He carefully inspected the hose and finally found a wad of tissue paper shoved deep inside, tightly blocking the flow of the gas.
“Damn it!”
Stan tried to yank the hose out to reset it, but Gordon arrived just in time to stop him.
Thud!
Just as Rex walked out of the hotel, he heard the heavy sound of something hitting the ground.
It was Stan; seeing that his attack was hopeless, he had committed suicide by jumping off the roof.
Rex remained entirely indifferent.
He met up with Bruce and Alfred as they exited and immediately turned to leave.
That wad of tissue paper, naturally, was his handiwork.
Bruce was still inside the hotel.
How could he possibly let Stan go through with the poisoning?
He was just a terrorist.
If he dies, he dies.
Besides, Rex had already achieved his goal.