Chapter 22: Candy

7:36

Bruce stood in a bathroom stall, removing his outer trousers and turning his suit jacket inside out, revealing the gray, worn-down maintenance uniform underneath. He then removed the leather from his shoes.

He then pulled some skin wax from his work jacket pocket, rubbed it into his mouth, and gently pinched it against his cheeks, reshaping them. He then glued a fake mustache to his chin.

Finally, he tousled his hair.

Now he was no longer "Charlie Brown," but a slightly haggard, hired maintenance worker.

Bruce adjusted his work hat to shield his eyes.

He walked through several corridors, avoiding the cameras, and stood outside the core testing area, observing.

There were more than ten experimental groups here, each with a unique number. Signs prohibiting unauthorized personnel were posted outside the entrances, and two security guards were stationed in the testing area.

He took a quick look from a distance and quickly located the location. He had found the YT-4 testing area — it was at the very back of the testing area. 

… 

He carried his toolbox and slowly walked towards the core testing area. 

The two security guards glanced over. 

Bruce walked steadily, his face radiating the tiredness of a laborer waking up early for work. 

As he approached, he leaned slightly to the side and pointed to an electrical box not far away. 

"Someone reported a problem with the wiring yesterday, and the supervisor asked me to check it out." 

His tone was languid and relaxed. 

The security guards exchanged glances. 

Bruce stepped between the two men, stooping to set down his toolbox. 

That was the moment. 

He raised his hand, his right fist striking one of them in the temple like lightning, then twisted his backhand and shoved him to the ground. 

Simultaneously, he swept his leg across, forcing the second man to lean forward, then struck him in the back of the neck with a knife. 

Both men instantly fell unconscious. 

A moment later, one was helped to a slouched position in a corner; the other was shown sprawled in a chair, seemingly asleep. 

Bruce picked up the toolbox and used the magnetic card he'd found on the security guard to enter the lab. 

It was only a little after seven, and the lab was deserted. 

A faint, slightly bitter aroma hung in the air. 

He stood there and observed— the sample cabinet was empty, the numbered columns blank. The entire lab contained only the most common chemical reagents… but there were a number of folders on the desk. 

He glanced at them, quickly catching a few key phrases: 

"The effects of fear on experimental subjects," 

"Inhibition of nerve cell activity," 

"Fluctuations in the brain's nervous system." 

This must be the project Scarecrow mentioned. 

He flipped through a few pages and found that most of the pharmaceutical concepts were still in the planning stage, with no further experiments. The few experimental records that existed were mostly "paused" or "failed." 

He took a picture of the files, then went to the computer and inserted the decoder. 

After a few seconds, the screen lit up. 

Most of the content on the device related to drug concepts, theoretical documents on brain nerves and emotional intervention. 

Bruce quietly browsed through them, exported copies of the electronic documents, and copied them into the computer. 

Perhaps due to Jonathan Klein's defection and the lack of key technical support, this new project had failed to move forward smoothly. 

He closed the computer, roughly cleaned up the traces left, and quietly left. 

Bruce sent the information he had obtained to Barbara. 

He briefly explained the medication situation on the call, and Barbara said the police would continue to follow up on the case. 

Then he received a text from Superman: 

"All patients have been reassigned to Arkham. I've sent Robin back." 

Bruce stared at the message for a few seconds, then turned off the screen and let out a long breath. 

It was finally over. 

He drove back to the manor, took off his suit, and took a short, hot shower. 

At 9 a.m., he lay in his room and fell into a deep sleep. 

When he woke up, it was already dinnertime. Bruce washed up and slowly walked downstairs. 

He glanced at the long table and saw Alfred and Jason enjoying dinner— one person missing. 

"Where's Jack?" he asked. 

Alfred calmly replied, "He left this morning. He said he had some things to deal with over the next few days." 

Well, that's normal, he thought. 

Bruce sat down at his seat and picked up his knife and fork. On 

the table was a sumptuous dinner—grilled steak, baked lobster, seared salmon... and many other side dishes. 

He looked at the empty seat across from him. 

———————— 

After dinner, he went upstairs alone, ready to return to his bedroom. 

But his feet seemed to have their own ideas, and when he realized what was happening, he was already standing at the door of the room that originally belonged to Jack. 

He pushed the door open and walked in. 

The quilt on the bed was neatly folded, the wardrobe was empty and open, the script on the desk had disappeared, leaving only an empty water cup. 

He stood there, without any special plans. 

Maybe he just wanted to come in and take a look. 

When he was about to leave, there was a light sound under his feet. 

He lowered his head. 

The sole of his shoe pressed down a piece of fruit candy, which was the same color as the floor and difficult to find without careful observation. 

He bent down to pick it up, ready to throw it away, but stopped in an instant. 

He smelled a scent. 

He remembered this smell - faint, almost imperceptible, with a slightly bitter aroma. 

He had smelled exactly the same smell in the laboratory of Kamala Pharmaceuticals.