The Dark Knight Of Another World

Bruce moved through the bustling market streets, his steps light and deliberate. The white buttoned shirt and black pants gave him the appearance of a wandering adventurer, but his piercing gaze missed nothing. Vendors hawked goods, children weaved through crowds, and opportunistic pickpockets preyed on distracted merchants.

Bruce's focus remained sharp. He wasn't here to shop—he was here to learn.

His first stop was a small tavern near the market square. It was the kind of place where men spoke too loudly after their third drink and rumors flowed as freely as ale.

Sliding onto a stool, Bruce gestured for a drink he had no intention of finishing. He listened.

"…disappeared three nights ago, near the docks. Guard hasn't found a trace."

"Black Serpents, I bet. Bastards have gotten bold."

Bruce's mind filed away the details. He turned to the bartender.

"Heard anything about shipments moving through the docks lately?" Bruce asked, adopting a casual tone.

The man eyed him warily. "Who's asking?"

Bruce dropped a single gold coin on the counter.

The bartender's expression softened as he palmed the coin. "Word is, crates marked with a black viper symbol have been moving at odd hours. No records, no inspections. Something's not right."

"Any names?"

"A merchant named Valtor's been mentioned. But keep your nose out of it, stranger. People who ask too many questions tend to disappear."

Bruce offered a faint smile. "Thanks for the warning."

Finishing his drink, Bruce left the tavern, his mind already piecing the puzzle together.

Later That Evening.

Dressed in his suit, Bruce stalked the rooftops, his enhanced Perception allowing him to monitor conversations below. Hidden vantage points, narrow alleys, and shifting patterns of guards told him everything he needed to know about the noble district's vulnerabilities.

He spotted two cloaked figures exchanging something near a fountain. Moving silently, he positioned himself overhead, activating Shadow Cloak.

"Shipment leaves tomorrow. Midnight," one of them whispered.

"And the buyer?"

"Waiting near the mines. No interruptions this time."

Bruce waited until they parted, memorizing their faces and routes before fading back into the darkness.

.....

Lyra's POV.

Lyra, unlike Bruce, preferred to gather information by diving directly into the chaos.

She leaned against a stall in the marketplace, flipping a coin through her fingers and giving a lazy smirk to the merchant.

"So, you're saying Lord Drenan's men are poking around the guild again?"

The merchant scowled. "Ever since those bandits were found tied up, the nobles are restless. They think there's some vigilante stirring up trouble."

Lyra's grin widened. "Sounds exciting."

The merchant grumbled but kept talking. She knew how to let people vent until their secrets spilled out. She flirted with traveling mercenaries, teased apprentices at the blacksmith, and even bribed a guard with food and ale—all while appearing to be nothing more than a nosy troublemaker.

Her methods lacked Bruce's precision, but they worked.

Later, in a dimly lit alley, Lyra leaned casually against the wall as a nervous young man stammered out information.

"They pay us to move crates, that's all!" he said, voice shaking.

"And what's inside those crates?" Lyra pressed.

"I-I don't know. But… some of the guys who touch them get sick. Real sick."

Lyra frowned. "And the nobles? Who's protecting them?"

"Lord Valtor. He's the one funding the whole operation."

Lyra flipped the coin in her hand before tossing it to the man.

"Forget we talked."

He nodded quickly and ran.

.....

Back at the Room.

Lyra burst through the door to Bruce's room, smirking as she tossed herself onto the chair across from him.

"Got anything good?"

Bruce didn't look up from the map he was sketching. "Valtor's name keeps coming up."

Lyra leaned back, propping her feet up on the desk. "Same here. And get this—some of the workers moving the crates are getting sick."

Bruce paused, processing the information. "Abyssal exposure."

"Yeah, well, whatever it is, it's spreading. And the nobles are in on it."

Bruce tapped the map with a pencil. "Valtor's estate. That's the center of it."

Lyra whistled. "You planning a break-in already?"

Bruce stood and grabbed one of the throwing knives.

"Not yet. But soon."

Lyra's grin widened. "I like the way you think, mystery man."

He turned to her, his eyes sharp. "Stay focused, Lyra. This isn't a game."

"Maybe not to you," she said, standing. "But where I'm from, you don't survive without taking risks."

Bruce didn't respond. He was already strategizing, piecing together the movements, patterns, and alliances they'd uncovered.

[System Notification]

[Side Quest Completed: Shadow Whispers.]

[Reward: +100 XP, Gold Coins (x15), Skill Unlock - Interrogator's Edge (Level 1).]

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the new skill. It allowed him to enhance persuasion and intimidation during conversations, increasing his ability to extract information efficiently.

He closed the system screen and turned back to the map.

The pieces were starting to fit, but the picture they formed was far more dangerous than he'd expected.

And Bruce Wayne was ready for it.