Maroni's move was clearly meant to intimidate Lance and disrupt his plans.
Fortunately, Lance was not the original Lance Prescott. The fear rising from his body only made him despise those who tried to threaten and control him even more.
Whether it was the so-called teacher Adrian Knox or Salvator Maroni sitting in front of him.
"What a pity. I was hoping to catch up with my teacher." Lance shrugged, smoothly steering the conversation back to Waylana Jones.
"You're looking for test subjects, aren't you?" His voice lowered. "You originally intended to create something else, but by accident, you produced a genetic modification serum instead. It gives humans reptilian traits, enhances strength and resilience, but the side effect is… irreversible mutation."
Lance met Maroni's darkening expression, then nodded slightly, drawing his conclusion.
"And judging by your face, the mortality rate among those children is very high~"
Maroni set his glass down and tapped his fingers lightly against the bar. This time, his expression turned cold.
"Mr. Prescott," he said, "I thought we were friends. You should know that some things cannot be taken back once spoken. For the sake of your teacher, I'll give you one more chance."
Lance gasped theatrically and covered his mouth.
"Oh! Good heavens! Lord Maroni truly is the most magnanimous man I've ever met. My teacher always told me to respect those with great power. If I've said anything offensive, I should apologize and correct myself."
Maroni's expression eased. He picked up his glass, ready to finish the whiskey in one go.
The next second, Lance spoke again, and Maroni nearly choked on the drink, coughing violently.
"Unfortunately, I never listen to my teacher."
"Cough, cough, cough!" Maroni's coughing was so fierce it seemed to shake the room. It took him a while to recover. He pulled out a clean handkerchief and wiped the corners of his mouth.
"So, you want to negotiate with me? You?"
Once the mask of politeness was gone, the conversation moved much faster.
So why bring up that cursed Adrian Knox at all?
Lance was in a bad mood, and he had no intention of letting anyone else off easy.
He lifted a finger and pointed at Waylana beside him.
"That's why I brought a bargaining chip." Lance smiled. "If I'm not mistaken, those children are all dead. And the one beside me is the only successful test subject so far."
"Now let me say it once again, in simpler terms.. You originally wanted to create something else, but your research went off track and produced an experimental genetic serum. The mortality rate was high, but she has perfectly integrated it. Study her, and you can build yourself an army of beasts."
Maroni said nothing.
"Of course, that's not all. I know your serum came from Jonathan Crane, who was recently arrested. Since you know who my teacher is, you should also know that I enjoy dealing with cases like this. The only destination for Crane is Blackgate Penitentiary. Even if there were other options, I guarantee he won't walk out alive."
Maroni's smile disappeared completely.
"Ah~ One more thing." Lance leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Do you know Batman?"
Maroni's expression changed instantly, and he burst into laughter.
"Prescott, you've got nerve." When he finished laughing, he stared directly into Lance's eyes. "But you've got one thing wrong. This is my territory. And you…"
He raised a hand.
The two bodyguards behind him drew their guns at the same time. More men rushed in through the private room entrance.
Gun barrels filled the room, all aimed at Lance and Waylana.
"…are not qualified to negotiate."
"Grrr.." Faced with the threat, Waylana let out a low growl, her muscles tightening as she prepared to strike.
But Lance pressed a hand against her arm.
"Is that so?" Lance smiled, pulled out his phone, and pressed play.
Maroni's voice came through the speaker:
"…Have those mutant brats been dealt with? They must be buried tonight. Batman has already noticed the East End…"
A recording.
Maroni's expression changed instantly.
"You see? I told you, I'm a very law-abiding, honest man. Unlike you Gotham locals." Lance shrugged and continued.
"Of course, I know the Maroni Family doesn't accept threats. Even if I hand over this recording, it would only delay my body showing up in the sewers by a few days."
"But that's fine." Lance met Maroni's furious gaze and smiled.
"I've already backed it up to the cloud and set it to auto-send." He switched off his phone.
"If anything happens to me or the child beside me, this recording will be delivered simultaneously to all your rival gangs, to Gordon, to the editorial office of the Gotham Gazette, and…"
Lance's smile deepened.
"…to Batman."
Maroni stared at him, weighing whether this was a bluff.
Then he slowly raised his hand.
The bodyguards lowered their guns.
"What do you want?" Maroni asked, his voice low.
"All your experimental records. And…" Lance tilted his chin toward Waylana, "…all the replicated serums."
"Easily done." Maroni agreed without hesitation.
"Tomorrow night. Warehouse 12 at the docks. Bring your little monster, and I'll give you what you want."
"A wise choice." Lance stood and adjusted his suit jacket. "The whiskey wasn't bad. By the way, if you're still in contact with my teacher, remember to pass along my regards."
He turned. "Let's go, Waylana."
Waylana ignored everyone else and rose at once, following him out.
...
When they stepped outside, rain was still falling.
She opened an umbrella and held it over Lance.
"Sir," she asked quietly, "do you really have a recording?"
Lance smiled.
Of course not.
It was nothing more than No. 1 running a voiceprint analysis and synthesizing an audio clip from the people in front of them.
"Why don't you guess?" Lance said.
He glanced back at the bar's neon sign. In a second-floor window facing the street, a dark figure stood silently, watching them leave.
"…People with guilty consciences can never tell the difference between truth and lies."
The two of them disappeared into Gotham's rainy night.
...
Meanwhile, on the second floor of the bar, Maroni was roaring into the phone.
"Move the lab. Tonight. And get me a headcount. I've got something for them to do tomorrow night. Make sure they're good men."
After issuing all his orders, Maroni sat alone in the empty private room, breathing heavily like a beast.
The next second, he hurled his glass to the floor.
Adrian Knox.
That man had once made him feel a genuine sense of threat. At the time, he had even felt a trace of pity for the Lance Prescott Knox had been hunting.
And now, tonight, that same Prescott had walked straight to his door.
From the very first moment he saw him, Maroni had felt it.
The resemblance to Adrian Knox.
Just as cunning. Just as detestable.
Only this Prescott had seemed younger, softer.
But now…
Maroni's face darkened as he made another call.
"Yes… It's me. Find Adrian Knox for me… The moment you have anything, report it immediately."
___
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