DC: Becoming Supreme With Technology ( I Beat Superman)

The next day, At Metropolis City Airport.

The private jet, its dark, polished exterior gleaming under the mid-morning sun, descended smoothly onto the runway of Metropolis International Airport. As the plane taxied to a halt, the press had already gathered in anticipation, their cameras ready to capture Gotham's most eligible billionaire. Bruce Wayne emerged moments later, his silhouette framed by the gleaming cabin door. Dressed in a meticulously tailored navy-blue suit with subtle pinstripes, he carried himself with the practiced charm of someone well-accustomed to the spotlight. A pair of black leather gloves in hand added a touch of sophistication to his already flawless ensemble.

Reporters clamored for his attention as Bruce descended the short staircase to the tarmac, flanked by two bodyguards in black suits. Questions were hurled in rapid succession, overlapping one another in the noise:

"Mr. Wayne! Any comments on the Wayne-Harper Foundation?"

"Is this an effort to combat Gotham's rising crime rate?"

"Will this partnership extend to other cities beyond Metropolis?"

Bruce offered his signature polite smile, neither confirming nor denying anything. He nodded once, his sharp blue eyes betraying none of his thoughts, and climbed into the awaiting vehicle—a custom-made Rolls-Royce Phantom Extended Wheelbase, a masterpiece of engineering and design.

The car's deep obsidian black paint absorbed the light, while its chrome accents gleamed under the sun. Inside, the interior was just as breathtaking. Plush, cream-colored leather seats were paired with dark mahogany trim, and the starlight ceiling above sparkled faintly, a soothing feature for long rides. Hidden within the vehicle were state-of-the-art security systems, advanced communications technology, and even a small emergency armory—a necessity for Bruce Wayne, who lived a life constantly at risk of exposure.

As the car glided out of the airport, Bruce tapped his smartwatch, which synced to the vehicle's internal communication systems. A holographic interface flickered to life, glowing softly.

"Ethan," Bruce began, his voice steady and professional, "I've landed. The inauguration of the Wayne-Harper Foundation is set for noon at City Hall, correct?"

Ethan Harper's voice came through the speakers, clear and calm. "That's right, Bruce. Everything's in place. I'll see you there shortly."

Bruce leaned back, gazing out the tinted windows as the car navigated the bustling streets of Metropolis. He had no idea that danger was already brewing in the shadows.

Meanwhile, in the towering Aether Corp headquarters, Ethan Harper was wrapping up some last-minute preparations. His penthouse office, a blend of modern minimalism and futuristic technology, overlooked the sprawling city below. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting off the polished chrome and glass surfaces of the room.

At 10:30 a.m., Ethan received Bruce's call confirming his arrival. After the brief exchange, Ethan turned to his personal AI, Helios.

"Helios," he said, "any updates I should know about?"

Helios's smooth, artificial voice replied, "No immediate updates, sir. However, your secretary, Claire Evans, has been trying to reach you regarding a meeting later this afternoon."

Ethan sighed. "Patch me through to Claire."

Moments later, Claire's brisk, professional voice came through. "Mr. Harper, you've been avoiding the office again," she said, half-teasing. "I take it this means you're attending the inauguration?"

"You'd be right," Ethan replied. "Clear my schedule for the day and ensure the team knows I'm unavailable. You're in charge while I'm out."

"Understood," Claire said. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Call Michael and have the car brought around. I'll be heading to Maison Corvo first—I need something appropriate for the event."

"Of course, sir," Claire replied before disconnecting.

Maison Corvo, located in the heart of Metropolis's upscale shopping district, was the epitome of luxury. The store was renowned for its bespoke tailoring, with every suit crafted from the finest fabrics sourced from across the globe—and beyond. Its marble floors, ambient lighting, and carefully curated displays created an atmosphere of understated opulence.

When Ethan arrived, he was greeted immediately by the store's manager, a sharply dressed man with an air of refined professionalism. "Mr. Harper," the manager said with a warm smile, "it's an honor to have you with us again. How can we assist you today?"

"I need a suit," Ethan said, glancing at the display racks. "Something that stands out but isn't too flashy. It's an important event."

"Say no more," the manager replied, gesturing for one of the tailors to approach.

As the tailors began their work, Ethan wandered through the store, casually examining some of the finer pieces on display. That's when he noticed her.

Selina Kyle stood near a display of cufflinks, her slender fingers idly tracing the edges of an ornate pair. She wore a sleek black dress that clung to her form elegantly, paired with a matching leather jacket and ankle boots. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes—sharp and calculating—betrayed her keen awareness of her surroundings.

Ethan recognized her immediately. Catwoman.

He decided to approach, curious about her presence here. "Cufflinks?" he said casually, standing a respectful distance away. "Not the first thing I'd expect to see someone like you browsing."

Selina looked up, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed him. "And what exactly do you expect?"

Ethan smirked. "Something less traditional. Though I suppose even the unexpected has its surprises."

Selina arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet," Ethan replied, his tone light but confident. "But I know quality when I see it."

Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Flattery? How original."

"Just an observation," Ethan said. "And a compliment."

They continued to chat, their conversation a subtle game of wit and intrigue. Selina was guarded but curious, and Ethan's charm made it difficult for her to walk away. When his suit was ready—a sleek, charcoal-gray masterpiece with sharp lapels and an impeccable fit—he regretted having to cut their conversation short.

"It's been a pleasure, Selina," he said, extending his hand. "I hope we'll meet again."

Selina hesitated briefly before shaking his hand. "You're an interesting man, Ethan Harper. Maybe we will."

Before she left, she handed him a small slip of paper with her number written in elegant cursive. "Call me sometime. If you're lucky, I might even answer."

Ethan pocketed the number and watched as she walked away, her every step a blend of confidence and grace.

Back in the car, Ethan examined the slip of paper, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Selina Kyle was an enigma, and he had a feeling their paths would cross again. For now, though, his focus shifted back to the task at hand.

"Michael," he said to the driver, "City Hall."

"Yes, sir," Michael replied, and the car smoothly pulled away from the curb.

As the Maybach glided through Metropolis's bustling streets, Ethan's thoughts flickered between the day's event and the unexpected encounter at Maison Corvo.

Ethan's car glided to a stop at the grand entrance of Metropolis City Hall, its sleek, charcoal-gray exterior a testament to the kind of understated luxury that turned heads without trying too hard. The moment his driver opened the door, the world outside erupted in chaos. A wave of camera flashes lit up the steps, and a cacophony of voices spilled over each other, all clamoring for his attention.

"Mr. Harper, do you have a comment on the Wayne-Harper Foundation?"

"Ethan! Over here—what are your plans for Aether Corp next?"

"Are you and Bruce Wayne planning further collaborations?"

Ethan stepped out with his characteristic poise, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit as he scanned the crowd. The fabric of his attire shimmered faintly under the sunlight, a sign of its high-end craftsmanship. The intricate threading—a blend of charcoal and silver—hinted at both elegance and innovation, much like the man himself.

One particularly bold reporter managed to weave through the security detail, shoving a microphone toward Ethan. Before the man could utter another word, Michael, Ethan's ever-reliable driver, smoothly intercepted, blocking the reporter with a disarming yet firm hand.

"Excuse me, sir," Michael said, his voice calm but commanding.

Ethan offered the reporter a polite nod before ascending the steps, his gaze unwavering. The commotion behind him seemed to fade as he crossed the threshold into City Hall, a sanctuary of order and decorum compared to the media frenzy outside.

The interior of Metropolis City Hall was nothing short of breathtaking. Towering marble columns flanked the expansive space, their surfaces veined with gold. A massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the assembly. Every detail of the hall spoke of opulence and power, a fitting venue for an event that promised to shape the future.