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Chapter 27 : Bruce Wayne
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 07:30:09 +0000 UTCChapter 27: Bruce Wayne
The rain hammered against the Gothic windows of Wayne Manor like bullets against armor, each drop carrying the weight of Gotham's perpetual darkness.
Alex Thorne adjusted his tie as he stepped from the taxi with his briefcase in hand, the leather already slick with moisture. The manor loomed before him—a monument to old money and older secrets, its gargoyles leering down through the storm as if they knew exactly what kind of predator had come calling.
How fitting, Alex mused, that Gotham's golden boy would invite the monster to his very doorstep.
The heavy oak doors opened before he could knock, revealing an elderly man whose military bearing was as obvious as a loaded gun.
Alfred Pennyworth—the perfect soldier playing the perfect servant, but Alex's enhanced senses caught the subtle tells: the way his feet were positioned for quick movement, how his eyes swept the perimeter even while greeting a guest, the faint outline of what could only be a concealed weapon beneath his perfectly pressed vest.
"Mr. Thorne, I presume?" Alfred's voice carried the refined cadence of British nobility, but underneath it was steel. "Master Wayne is expecting you in the study."
Alex smiled—the practiced expression of a concerned psychology student, not the apex predator that lurked beneath his human facade. "Thank you. Terrible weather we're having."
"Indeed, sir. Gotham weather has a way of bringing out the worst in people."
Or the truest parts, Alex thought as he followed Alfred through corridors lined with portraits of dead Waynes. Each painting seemed to judge him with painted eyes, as if they somehow knew that their family's legacy was about to be dissected by something that had long ago stopped being human.
The study was exactly what Alex had expected—floor-to-ceiling books that probably hadn't been read in decades, a fireplace that crackled with artificial warmth, and leather furniture that screamed old money. But it was the man rising from behind the mahogany desk that confirmed everything Alex had already suspected.
Bruce Wayne looked like a magazine cover—the kind of manufactured perfection that came from unlimited resources and careful image management. But Alex's instincts saw past the facade immediately. The way Bruce moved spoke of countless hours of combat training even if it was concealed to the max. The subtle scarring on his knuckles that expensive makeup couldn't quite hide. The micro-expressions that suggested a mind constantly calculating, always three steps ahead.
Most telling of all was how Bruce's pupils dilated slightly when their eyes met—the involuntary response of someone recognizing a potential threat.
"Mr. Thorne," Bruce extended a hand, his grip firm but not excessive. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Your commentary on the Vicki Vale show was... enlightening. Particularly your condemnation of vigilante justice."
"Please, call me Alex." The handshake lingered just a moment too long, each man taking the measure of the other. "Though I have to admit, I'm curious why Gotham's most eligible bachelor needs a consultation on criminal psychology."
Bruce gestured to the leather chairs by the fireplace, and Alex noted how he positioned himself with clear sight lines to both entrances, the sophisticated security system discretely embedded in the walls, motion sensors disguised as decorative elements. Every detail screamed professional-grade paranoia.
Wayne Manor isn't just a home—it's a fortress. And fortresses are built by people with dangerous enemies.
"Recent events have made me... cautious," Bruce said, settling into his chair with the fluid grace of someone who had spent years learning to move without sound. "The Architect's emergence has created an atmosphere of fear in the city. My business interests require me to understand the psychology of someone capable of such... theatrical brutality."
Alex leaned back, studying Bruce's face—noting the barely healed minute cut along his jawline, the way he favored his left shoulder slightly, injuries that spoke of recent violent encounters. "I appreciate your concern for public safety, Mr. Wayne. Though I have to say, I find vigilantism in all its forms to be deeply troubling. The Architect, Batman—they're all symptoms of a society that's lost faith in our judiciary."
"Interesting perspective." Bruce's eyes never left Alex's face. "You see no difference between Batman's restraint and the Architect's... methods?"
"Violence is violence," Alex replied with conviction that wasn't entirely feigned. "The moment we decide that some people deserve to die without trial, we've abandoned everything that separates civilization from barbarism. Batman may not kill, but he's still a violent criminal operating outside the law."
Alex reached into his briefcase and withdrew a folder filled with crime scene photos and psychological profiles—all perfectly legitimate academic work that happened to contain insights no student should possess.
"The Architect represents the logical endpoint of vigilantism," Alex continued, spreading the photos across the coffee table. "Once you decide the system is irredeemably broken, once you place yourself above legal authority, there's no limit to the atrocities you can justify."
Bruce leaned forward, studying the images with the intensity of someone who had seen similar scenes firsthand. Alex noticed how Bruce's breathing remained perfectly controlled despite the graphic nature of the photos, how his pupils didn't dilate at the sight of extreme violence.
Definitely seen worse. Probably caused worse.
Testing complete. The expensive tech, the secrecy, the drive — and considering his parents were murdered? It all adds up. Bruce Wayne is Batman.
"You seem to have given this considerable thought," Bruce said slowly.
"It's my field of study," Alex replied with no change in his expression.
"Criminal psychology, specifically the psychology of those who believe they're above the law. The Architect demonstrates sophisticated knowledge of investigative procedures, forensic countermeasures, and criminal psychology itself. This suggests either law enforcement background or extensive academic study."
Alfred appeared silently at Bruce's shoulder—another military tell, the ability to move without sound—and placed a silver tray with coffee and a tablet on the side table.
"The background check you requested, Master Wayne," Alfred said, his eyes briefly meeting Alex's. The look lasted only a second, but it was enough for Alex to see the professional assessment taking place.
They've been busy.
Bruce picked up the tablet, scrolling through what Alex assumed was his own dossier. "Alexander Thorne. Twenty-two years old. Parents are Dr. Michael and Dr. Eva Thorne, currently conducting research in Central City. Bachelors summa cum laude from Gotham University, now pursuing graduate studies in criminal psychology. No criminal record, no known associates with criminal backgrounds."
Alex sipped his coffee, maintaining perfect composure despite knowing he was being dissected. "Thorough."
"I'm a cautious man." Bruce set down the tablet, but Alex caught a glimpse of red flags and assessment notes. "Though I have to say, your insights into criminal methodology are... unusually detailed for someone with purely academic experience."
Here we go.
"I believe in thorough research," Alex said carefully. "You can't understand criminal psychology from textbooks alone. I've spent considerable time studying actual cases, interviewing subjects when possible, even riding along with GCPD to observe crime scenes firsthand."
"Impressive dedication." Bruce's tone suggested he found it perhaps too impressive. "Tell me, what's your professional assessment of the Architect's psychological profile?"
Alex allowed himself a slight smile. "Honestly? I think he's a narcissistic sociopath with a god complex. He's convinced himself that his actions are morally justified, but in reality, he's just another killer who enjoys the power of life and death. The elaborate staging, the symbolic elements—it's all theater designed to feed his ego."
"That's a harsh assessment."
"It's an honest one. The Architect has more in common with serial killers like Zsasz than with any genuine reformer. He's not trying to fix the system—he's trying to replace it with his own twisted version of justice."
The fire crackled between them, casting dancing shadows across their faces. Outside, thunder rolled across Gotham like the sound of some great beast stirring in its lair.
Bruce stood and walked to the window, staring out at the storm-lashed grounds. "And yet his targets have all been individuals who escaped legal consequences for serious crimes. One could argue he's simply correcting systemic failures."
"One could argue that," Alex agreed. "But the moment we accept that argument, we've abandoned the rule of law entirely. Today he kills loan sharks and corrupt cops. Tomorrow? Maybe he decides that tax evaders deserve death. Or jaywalkers. There's no limiting principle once you've decided you're judge, jury, and executioner."
Bruce turned back to face him, and Alex caught a flicker of something—approval?—in those calculating eyes.
"You speak with considerable passion about this."
"I believe in justice, Mr. Wayne. Real justice. Not the perverted version that men like the Architect and Batman peddle." Alex stood, joining Bruce at the window. "The system may be flawed, but it's still better than anarchy."
They stood in silence for a moment, two men with secrets taking each other's measure. Outside, lightning illuminated the Wayne family cemetery, where generations of Gotham's elite lay buried beneath elaborate monuments to their own mortality.
"I think," Bruce said finally, "that you'd make an interesting consultant, Alex. Someone with your... perspective on criminal psychology could be very valuable. Particularly someone who understands the dangers of vigilantism as clearly as you do."
"I'd be honored to work with Wayne Enterprises," Alex replied. "Though I should warn you—my methods of psychological analysis can be quite intensive. I believe in getting inside the criminal mind, understanding how they think and why they act."
Bruce shook his hand, and Alex felt the calluses hidden beneath the soft skin—the kind that came from gripping climbing equipment and fighting barehanded.
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Bruce said. "Alfred will be in touch with the details."
As Alfred escorted Alex back through the rain-soaked grounds, Alex's mind raced with satisfaction. The meeting had gone better than expected—he'd confirmed Bruce Wayne's identity as Batman and established himself as an anti-vigilante ally.
The irony is delicious, Alex thought as the taxi pulled away from Wayne Manor. Batman hiring the Architect to help catch the Architect.
---
Back in the study, Bruce watched the taxi's taillights disappear into the storm. Alfred returned, closing the heavy doors against the wind.
"Your assessment, Master Bruce?"
Bruce turned from the window, his expression thoughtful. "He's not the Architect. Too many contradictions—his public stance against vigilantism, his academic background with lack of motive, the timeline doesn't match our investigation,." He paused, picking up the tablet with Alex's profile. "But there's something else. His knowledge of criminal methodology is unusually sophisticated. The way he analyzed those crime scenes, his understanding of psychological manipulation..."
"You suspect he has criminal potential?"
"More than potential." Bruce's jaw tightened. "I want him monitored on surface level. Routine surveillance—digital, physical, everything. He's temporarily cleared of suspicion regarding the Architect case, but I want him flagged as high-risk."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "High-risk, sir?"
"Someone with his psychological insights and methodical approach could become extremely dangerous under the right circumstances. He has all the tools to become a master manipulator or worse." Bruce set down the tablet. "For now, he's useful as a consultant. But I don't trust him. There's something beneath that academic facade—something cold."
"Shall I prepare the surveillance protocols?"
"Do it. And Alfred?" Bruce's voice carried a warning. "If Alex Thorne ever shows signs of crossing the line, I want to know immediately. Men like him don't stay neutral forever."
Outside, the storm continued to rage, and somewhere in Gotham's darkness, the real monster smiled at how perfectly the evening had gone.
****************************
Note: The MC is not reincarnated. And It's not surprising that someone as intelligent as the MC, with all his powers, would suspect Bruce Wayne of being Batman. Now, he's confirmed it.
As for the MC’s parents — it's not a plot hole. The truth will be revealed in the Origin chapters that I'll post throughout the fiction.
Comments
yanke301
Feels like a fusion of death note and Dexter.
Lord_Meph1sto
Oh my bad, I forgot to post chap 26 . Thank you for telling me. 🤗
Orion
No i mean the chapters go from 22 to 25 to 27 with no chapters in between them
