Bat-Family

Bruce was busy. No, not just busy—he was incredibly, unbearably, and almost headache-inducingly busy. Wayne Tech's annual report, endless approvals for the engineering board presentation, new drawings from Lucius Fox, staff selection for the upcoming Gala, reports from Commissioner Gordon, a training program for the boys from the orphanage... Bruce was literally drowning in paperwork, emails, and voicemails. He even handed Gotham City over to his team for a night—except, of course, in sudden emergencies. For him, it was almost unthinkable.

And then...

Call.

Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, looking at his vibrating cell phone with obvious irritation. Who else, and at this hour...

The AI ​​system identified the number: Laboratory of the Center for Genetics and Genealogy.

What nonsense?

“I’m listening,” Bruce said dryly into the receiver, not taking his eyes off the laptop screen and mechanically sipping his cold coffee.

• Mr. Wayne, this is Pratchett from the Genetics Center. Uh... A few days ago, someone gave a sample.