Chapter 54 Punishment

9 o'clock in the morning.

A cell phone suddenly rang in the quiet bedroom.

The person on the bed moved slightly, but did not open his eyes. Instead, he covered his head with the quilt, wrapped himself up, and tried to sleep for a while.

After a few seconds, the ringing stopped.

The breathing of the person lying on the bed slowly stabilized.

However, only five minutes later, the shrill ringing sounded again.

Bruce seemed to have really heard it at this time - he threw back the quilt, struggled to sit up, covered his head with his hands, and frowned.

His head hurts so much that he can't open his eyes... What time did he go to bed last night?

In a chaotic thought, he touched the phone on the bedside, and his eyes barely focused on the caller ID -

Lucius Fox.

The name made him more conscious, and he pressed the answer button.

"...hello?"

"...Mr. Wayne," the voice on the other end sounded a little helpless, "I think you still remember the board meeting at 8:45 this morning?"

"..." ...

He remembered.

But he didn't get back to his apartment until 3 a.m. last night, and then he was tortured for over an hour by the clown next door with deafening heavy metal music. By the time he couldn't bear it anymore and climbed through the window next door, impulsively taught the clown a lesson, and returned, the clock had already struck five o'clock.

Bruce had no idea when he'd finally fallen asleep, but he knew his head was dizzy, his eyes were sore, and he felt terrible—and nothing had gone as he'd expected.

He closed his eyes and said in a low voice,

"It'll take me at least 20 minutes to get here."

"We originally planned to discuss the project plan at 9 a.m. sharp," Lucius said calmly. "If you get here quickly, you should be able to make it in time for the budget discussion." "

Or you could make the decision for me—" Bruce thought for a moment, then suddenly changed the subject. "I believe in your abilities, Lucius."

Lucius was silent for a moment, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"My honor, but I think you know this meeting is important—and I won't forge your signature, Mr. Wayne."

"…"

It seemed this meeting was unavoidable.

Bruce hung up the phone in frustration, got out of bed, and headed straight for the bathroom.

He washed up as quickly as he could, not having time to style his hair, so he used a towel to push down his frizzy hair. Then, he quickly changed into a shirt and trousers, and put on his jacket.

While tying his tie, he quickly grabbed a piece of bread from the table and stuffed it into his mouth, then grabbed his briefcase and hurried out.

As he stepped into the hallway, Bruce noticed the elevator door was about to close completely. He ran over in two steps, instinctively shouting, "

Wait!"

The elevator door stopped and then slowly slid open.

Bruce withdrew his hand from pressing the button and looked up

. At that moment, he swallowed back the "thank you" that was on the tip of his tongue.

As the elevator door slowly opened, he could see the figure standing inside.

It was Jack.

He was dressed in a well-tailored gray suit, a dark green tie, and gold-rimmed glasses. His blond hair was neatly combed up, with a slight curl at the ends, making him look remarkably polished.

Bruce stood at the elevator door, hesitant about whether to go in.

"Wow, good morning," Jack said, a subtle expression on his face. He stepped aside. "Would you like to come in?"

Bruce walked in wordlessly and stopped beside him.

The elevator door closed, and silence instantly spread throughout the small space.

The person next to him was staring at him openly.

Their gaze swept over the bread in his mouth, through his messy hair, and finally to the cuffs of his suit—where the buttons were still unbuttoned.

A soft chuckle reached his ear.

Jack asked meaningfully,

"Mr. Wayne, you don't look like you're adapting to civilian life?"

Bruce remained silent. He didn't think now was the right time to engage in conversation.

But Jack wasn't about to let him off so easily. He curled his lips and said,

"Perhaps I should call Alfred? Invite him to come take care of you?"

"None of your business," Bruce said coldly.

"Of course—I don't have time to worry about Master Wayne's well-being..."

Bruce stared at the elevator as it descended, trying to ignore the other man's sarcasm.

But then he suddenly remembered the violent confrontation last night—specifically, the punch he'd landed on the Joker's face.

Logically, there should have been some mark, but there wasn't a single visible one...

Thinking of this, he leaned over to examine Jack's cheek.

Upon closer inspection, he saw that one part of the skin was unnaturally darker than the rest.

"Did you have any facial retouching?" he asked.

"Why?" the other man spread his hands innocently. "You expect me to act like that? Let everyone see the marks you left last night?"

Bruce frowned.

...Even though the Joker had remembered everything, he continued to carry on with his life as usual...

This, too, puzzled him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes and threatened,

"If I find out you're plotting something again, I won't let you off as easily as I did last night."

Hearing this, those green eyes slowly turned, examining him through their lenses.

"Really? So what are you going to do?" Jack grinned. "Honestly, I'm looking forward to it—"

He licked his lips, his eyes glittering with excitement.

"If you dare to carry out those plans again—I'll make you pay," Bruce sneered, his tone serious. "I promise I'll beat you until you can't walk, can't get out of bed, I'll make you feel the pain, every inch of your skin will remember the feeling of last night."

The man in front of him looked at him in surprise, stunned, his expression becoming a little strange.

Bruce ignored Jack's change of expression. He simply leaned in, threatening him word by word, "

If you dare do that again, I won't give you a chance to cover up the damage. No matter how much you beg—"

"Ding—"

As he spoke, the elevator arrived at the first floor.

The doors slowly opened.

Bruce swallowed the rest of his words.

Standing at the door was a slightly older man - I don't know how much he had heard, but at this moment, he was looking back and forth at the two of them with a very strange look in his eyes.

Jack naturally put his arm around Bruce's shoulders and led him out, his mouth curled up, his expression looking very happy -

he let out a low laugh.

"We can talk about this next time when we get home, sweetheart."

"..."