Chapter 7: Wingman

"...So how does this concern me?"

"I need a wingman."

"What's that?" Jason asked, looking confused.

"When a fighter jet goes on a mission, there's usually another plane flying alongside for support. If the attack fails, the lead plane retreats while the wingman provides cover," Roland explained. "And if necessary, they go down with the enemy."

"...So you're basically asking me to die with the enemy?"

"Less talk, clear the runway, start the engines, and let's go!"

Jason rolled his eyes but followed Roland.

"Are you sure you want to go here?" Jason looked at the opulent, gilded architecture in front of him and felt he had come to the wrong place. "This is the rich neighborhood. Are you sure you haven't made a mistake?"

"Underestimating me, are you?" Roland glanced at Jason. "I have a premonition that I'll meet a lonely, beautiful girl here."

"I have a premonition that you're going to crash and burn here," Jason muttered, his mouth twitching.

"Shh!" Roland suddenly made a silencing gesture. "Listen carefully."

"To what?" Jason asked with a blank look.

"The piano music." Roland closed his eyes. "Melodious and touching. You can tell just by the sound that it must be a lonely young lady playing it."

"How can you tell that from the music?"

"Haven't you heard the story of the high mountains and flowing water finding a kindred spirit?" Roland walked toward the source of the sound.

"Never heard of it." Jason shrugged. "I think you're fantasizing again. It’ll be hilarious if the person playing turns out to be a man."

"Impossible."

They walked into a luxuriously decorated hotel, where someone was indeed playing the piano in the lobby.

It was a black-haired young woman. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and she was tall and slender, wearing a pure white evening dress. Her delicate, fair fingers danced nimbly across the keys.

"What did I tell you?" Roland looked at Jason triumphantly.

"...I think you're celebrating too early." Jason pointed to the tall, handsome man standing next to her. "She's already taken."

"No!!!"

"The 'no' doesn't help," Jason teased. "Unless you want to fight the number one playboy of Gotham City for a woman."

"Gotham's number one... Bruce Wayne?" Roland rubbed his eyes. "So that's what the guy actually looks like."

"That sounds like... have you seen him before?"

*No kidding, he smashed my church window,* Roland thought silently, then realized something. "Isn't this guy super rich? Hurry and arrange for our people to sell him flowers—at triple... no, five times the price!"

"Right." Jason ran off quickly.

But before Jason had been gone long, a girl wearing a green trench coat and a bright green mask approached. She was carrying a basket of roses, clearly also there to sell flowers.

*Damn, competition?* Roland watched her walk toward him and immediately became alert. He straightened his clothes, stepped in front of her, and said, "Child, have you heard of God?"

The flower girl paused, confused.

"God is love, sister. I’d like to borrow a moment of your time to talk about our Heavenly Father and Savior..." Roland launched into an improvised sermon to stall for time for Jason.

*Don't blame me for being underhanded; that's just business competition!* Roland chuckled inwardly.

"Sorry, Father, I have other things to do and no time for this." A flash of sharp malice crossed the flower girl's eyes. She took Roland's hand and said, "Next time, let's talk about this alone."

*If we're alone, we won't be talking about Jesus, we'll be talking about... wait, is this a honey trap?* Before Roland could react, he felt a sharp sting in his hand, and then a captivating shade of green filled his vision.

Roland felt his head grow dizzy; he stopped thinking and began to walk toward that shade of green.

The flower girl ignored him, walked into the hotel, and cooed at Bruce Wayne, "Big brother, would you like to buy a bouquet of roses for this beautiful lady?"

"Sure." Bruce pulled out a bill and handed it to her. "Keep the change."

"Thank you." The girl nodded, handed the roses to Bruce, and left with the money.

Jason happened to arrive with his lackeys just in time to see this. He cursed under his breath, "How did we get out-competed? What was Roland doing?"

"Boss Roland seems to be over there," a lackey said, pointing toward Roland, who was walking away in a daze.

"What is he doing?" Jason was baffled. "And why are you calling him 'boss'?"

"You're our boss, he's your boss, so naturally, I call him boss too."

"What are you talking about..." Jason rolled his eyes. "You keep selling flowers; I'm going to see what he's up to."

"Got it."

Jason followed Roland, watching as he walked toward a desolate, secluded area until he entered a barren garden.

"What on earth..." Jason felt something was wrong. Instead of walking in, he ran to a nearby high-rise building to look down into the garden.

The garden had been abandoned for a long time; thick vines crawled over the railings, and large trees at the edge blocked the view, making it hard for Jason to see what was happening inside.

"What kind of hellhole is this? Nobody would come here for a secret tryst unless they wanted to be watched..." Jason suddenly realized something. "Is he really here for that?"

But he soon realized he was wrong when he saw Bruce Wayne also walk into the garden.

Although Bruce's reputation as a playboy was legendary in Gotham, no one had ever heard of him having any interest in men.

Roland slowly regained his senses, only to see Bruce Wayne wrapped up like a mummy by vines.

"What's going on?" Roland was bewildered. He tried to move, but discovered he was also bound by vines.

"Hello there," a red-headed beauty walked up to them.

She wore a strapless, high-cut leotard, long gloves, boots, and bright green tights, looking incredibly sexy and stunning.

"What a beautiful girl. What's your name?" Roland asked, struggling.

"Pamela Lillian Isley," Bruce said calmly. "So it's you."

"You two know each other?" Roland felt the name sounded familiar.

"She used to be an intern at Wayne Enterprises," Bruce said.

"That was truly an unforgettable memory," the beauty smiled. "Not only did you fire me, but because of the non-disclosure agreement I signed, you forbade me from continuing my research after leaving Wayne Enterprises."

"Capitalists exploiting employees—so heartless," Roland said, looking at Bruce with disdain, then turned to her. "I didn't offend you, though. Why did you tie me up too?"

"You blocked me for so long just now—have you forgotten already?"

"Can we call it a misunderstanding?" Roland said earnestly. "Untie these vines, and I'll help you bite Bruce!"