American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

Bruce changed out of his armor and put on a handmade suit again.

He shoved a Gotham infrastructure progress chart, as thick as a brick, that he had just printed from the Batcomputer into the arms of Shuen, who was radiating golden light.

This is a clear indication that the boss is trying to dump all the hard work on me.

Xiu En was about to open his mouth to complain about the issue of specialization.

But Bruce's extremely serious gaze silenced her.

Clearly, Bruce already knew what Hugh was going to say without Hugh even having to speak.

"In Gotham, professionals only use their expertise to take advantage of everything. When I'm here, I can keep Wayne Enterprises in check, but I might not be in Gotham for a while, so I need you to keep an eye on things. Please."

Bruce's tone carried a hint of helplessness and trust that belonged to a friend.

He knew very well that if he left and handed over his billions of dollars in project funds to this group of so-called elites who were already used to taking advantage of the chaos in Gotham, the money would most likely end up in a yacht in the overseas account of some executive before the base was even laid.

Xiu En held the document, whose edges had curled slightly from being heated by his excessive body temperature, and the chaotic arcs of light surging around him stabilized somewhat.

He swallowed back the words he was about to say, mainly because hearing the phrase "eaten up and wiped clean" resonated with him in a strange way.

"Alright, boss."

Hugh grinned, his gleaming teeth making his face even brighter.

"Since you're belittling all those professionals as thieves, then I guess I'll just have to watch your assets. But let's make it clear first, what if I find some tasty scrap metal on the construction site?"

"what ever."

Bruce didn't even turn around; he strode toward the stealth fighter whose engine was already warmed up.

"Just don't eat the workers."

Pamela Ivy retreated back into a specially made flowerpot prepared by Bruce.

Clearly, she would much rather be a quiet green plant that simply absorbs carbon dioxide than face the complexities of business negotiations in human society.

Don't look at me.

The sunflower turned its head to one side, avoiding Xiu En's gaze.

"My job is to make sure no human dares to damage the designated green areas. As for how you want to mess with those idiots in suits, that's your business."

The black-gold carnivorous plant understood the word "overseer" and excitedly waved its spiked tentacles, as if it were already imagining that every steel bar was its chew stick.

Alfred took some chores from Bruce that didn't require the Dark Knight to handle personally, and handed another document to Shuen.

"If you are going to inspect, Shuen, this is a contingency plan in case of any unforeseen circumstances."

Afu adjusted his sunglasses, as he couldn't look directly at Xiu En, whose eyes were too bright.

"Young Master is going to both the metropolis and the seaside city this time, so he might not be able to come back in time to pay for your... glowing little belly. So please, please try to restrain yourself a little."

As the Batplane silently glided into the underground catapult runway in stealth mode, only the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled remained in the entire Batcave.

Xiu En watched as the blue exhaust plumes of the fighter jet disappeared into the darkness, his hand leaving a charred fingerprint on the document he was holding.

"Alright, this is my city now."

He turned around and waved to the carnivorous plant that was drooling.

"Come on, I'll take you to see the night view, and while we're at it, let's check if anyone's been cutting corners on my turf."

……

The searchlight beam shone on the construction site gate, and opposite it was a figure whose entire body was radiating tangible golden light.

Xiu En sat in the bucket of a stopped giant excavator, his legs crossed, the hem of his trench coat billowing in the unnatural heat.

At his feet, a dozen or so thugs formed a circle. In the center of the circle, several Wayne Enterprises engineers, their heads in their hands, trembled, clutching several black plastic bags filled with cash they had just withdrawn.

"So?"

Xiu En's voice seemed to burst forth with tiny sparks with every word.

Lock onto Soul Valley, lock onto, lock onto every update of "American Comics: Praise the Sun Starting from Gotham!"

"You call this a safety and environmental maintenance fee?"

He pointed to the bags of money, the seals of which bore the Wayne Group logo.

"That's the money for buying rebar. In other words, that's my food."

Bill, the leader of the hardware gang, was a fat man with a fierce face, and he didn't understand the situation yet.

In his eyes, this was just some mentally unstable superhuman bodyguard sent by the Wayne family.

"Listen, Light Man!"

Bill brandished a large, sharpened wrench, the fake gold chain around his neck gleaming in the sunlight.

"Whether it's Bruce Wayne or Batman, this is East Side territory. If they don't touch this place, we'll shut down construction here forever! You think I'm joking?"

He was about to smash the wrench against the half-dry cement block next to him as a show of defiance.

"Crunch."

A sharp metallic crack froze everyone in their tracks.

The tip of the steel wrench, the most lethal part, disappeared.

Bill stared blankly at the remaining half of the wrench in his hand, then slowly lowered his head.

A bizarre flower, entirely black with petals edged in dangerous gold, was crouching beside Xiu En's excavator tires.

It stuck out its tongue like a dog, chewing the wrench head in its mouth like it was eating candy.

"I call it Black Gold."

Xiu En spoke slowly, his tone full of indulgent reproach, though it sounded more like he was criticizing the meal for being unhealthy.

"You can't just swallow any scrap metal. If you spit it out, the lead content is too high."

The Black Gold Man-Eating Flower grumbled aggrievedly, then spat out a clump of molten iron, corroded into slag by strong acid, onto Bill's work boots.

Bill: "..."

"Now!"

Xiu En lightly jumped off the excavator, and the ground beneath his feet instantly cracked open, creating a spiderweb-like pattern.

"Give me my money back. I might consider not feeding you to it as a treat; honestly, it's much pickier than I am."

Ten minutes later.

The once arrogant and domineering crowd had neatly piled up all sorts of weapons and firearms.

After being slapped by Shum, Bill knelt before the over-fifty-year-old project manager, holding up the money bags as if he were attending Mass in a church.

"Please check, not a penny less..."

Bill, his voice trembling with fear, kept glancing at the black flower beside him.

Xiu En nodded in satisfaction, his body brightening slightly, indicating he was in a good mood.

"Ah Fu said that what Gotham lacks most right now is young and able-bodied men who are capable of working."

He reached out and patted Bill's trembling, thick shoulder, the pat sending up a puff of burnt white smoke.

"Since you have such a strong attachment to the construction site and are so eager to participate in environmental protection, then stay."

"Huh? Us?"

Bill was stunned.

Xiu En smiled, a mixture of black bat shadows and golden holy light seemingly intertwining behind him: "Starting tonight, you're all to be punished. I'll have someone calculate your probationary wages. If you dare to run away, or even steal a single brick!"

He stomped his foot lightly, and a rebar as thick as a wrist twisted into a pretzel under the influence of his energy field.

"I'll eat your fake gold chain too!"

"Was that sent by Mr. Wayne?"

Several young workers hiding behind the prefabricated houses whispered among themselves.

"Look at that light, isn't that the legendary angel?"

Another devout believer quietly made the sign of the cross.

Old John, the leader here, wiped away a cold sweat. He looked at the thugs who, after being persuaded by physics, tearfully shouldered cement bags and began their voluntary labor. He then looked at the foreman next to him who was pointing fingers and complaining that the steel bars were not strong enough while he himself was tasting the steel bars.

"No matter what it is."

Old John muttered to himself.

"At least the construction schedule can be met this time."