"Bruce Wayne, you want the U.S. government to play superhero games with you?"
"Absurd! Wayne Enterprises was inherited by you and now you're dragging it into nonsense!"
"By tomorrow morning, because of your words, Wayne Enterprises will collapse."
"Declaring Batman as Gotham's official hero? Impossible. Batman belongs in prison!"
Recognizing Batman as Gotham's official hero, an officially acknowledged hero meant granting him a covert right of law enforcement and judgment.
This would only fuel existing public distrust of the government. It would appear to sanction vigilante justice and could trigger backlash.
If it were The Flash, Green Lantern, Superman, Wonder Woman, or others, it might be acceptable. The public was more open to them—they were radiant, charismatic, heroic, and inspirational.
But Batman? A man whose only "superpower" was money? His image was steeped in shadows and fear. In Gotham, he was viewed more like a demon. An urban legend that terrified common citizens. Such a plan seemed like madness.
Several congressmen wore cold expressions, their faces tight with supposed anger. Of course, given their positions, none were genuinely outraged.
What they really wanted… was leverage.
"This is my plan. It's in your hands. Read it carefully. I won't explain it further."
"Announce Batman as Gotham's official superhero. Through this, you can make meaningful contact with other heroes. The plan contains detailed steps to unite them, potentially forming a global superhero task force, one that can be gradually brought under supervision. A force to confront threats beyond human capability, ensuring that no one rises above the law or morality."
Bardi took a step forward, speaking calmly and with unwavering confidence.
The President's gaze flickered. The head of the counter-terrorism task force and the four Army generals silently examined the plan, lost in thought.
Within it were detailed proposals for citywide superhero integration, the development of official superhero roles, cooperation with independent heroes, and more. Every aspect was listed meticulously, with a feasibility rating reaching nearly 70%.
Even so, it wasn't enough to justify naming Batman as Gotham's official hero.
This decision would impact public trust in the government. If it backfired, it could spark mass protests, plunge Gotham into unrest, and destabilize the country.
Bardi snapped his fingers again, pulling everyone back to the moment.
"Next," he said, "is the cooperation agreement between myself and the military."
Sam Lane's eyes sharpened. He leaned in.
The projector displayed images of exoskeletons, Sky Iron Soldiers, nano-enhanced Iron Soldiers—advanced military combat systems.
These were devices discarded in Bardi's world, once considered commonplace. The nano Iron Soldier had become standard issue for police forces. In his eyes, it was obsolete.
But here, in this era, this level of technology was beyond imagination. Military hardware would propel Earth's forces a century into the future.
If every soldier was equipped with this gear, they could rival most superheroes. It would completely redefine global power structures. To the generals, this was a dream.
The moment the projections appeared, the four Army generals audibly gasped. They rapidly flipped through the supporting documents, eyes wide, visibly thrilled.
"The Department of Defense agrees to cooperate!"
"National Counter-Terrorism units need this kind of combat suit!"
"The army's elite units and reserve forces demand a partnership!"
"Mr. Wayne, when will the actual suit prototypes be available?"
The highest-ranking members of the military staff spoke up, eager and unrestrained.
Just the data alone proved the power of this technology. It had to be secured for the United States.
Bardi raised his hands to calm their growing excitement.
"Gentlemen, please," he said, "calm yourselves."
"You may have noticed… this is the Iron Man suit, from Marvel."
"Yes, you're not mistaken. Your very own Batman has built functioning Iron Man technology, with enhanced firepower and defensive capabilities, making soldiers equipped with this armor capable of confronting any threat."
In this world, Marvel existed in comic books. Iron Man films had already been released. That was why the generals were so enthusiastic.
According to the specs Bardi listed, his suit had all the features of Iron Man's—flight, repulsor cannons, laser systems, stealth functionality—but with more practicality and real-world application.
At once, the President, the military brass, and the Secretary of the Treasury began arguing about how many suits to purchase and how soon deployment could begin.
However, before finalizing those details, they still had one matter to resolve: whether to officially declare Batman as Gotham's recognized hero.
Just as they were about to return to discussion, Bardi snapped his fingers again.
"You may continue your private negotiations later. Right now, I need to announce one final matter. One you absolutely cannot refuse."
The room fell silent. Everyone turned their attention to Bardi.
He smiled slightly, his eyes filled with composure.
"My partnership with the government to establish Batman as Gotham's official hero… it's not a game."
"I simply want to do something for my city, Gotham."
"There is immense darkness there. Twisted thoughts and heinous acts."
"I want my city to be bright, beautiful, full of vitality—not gloomy and violent, where any alley might conceal a thief or a killer."
"I spent over ten years fighting crime… and still found no way to truly eliminate it. So I stepped out from the shadows."
"I have developed a fully realized cold fusion cracking technology—for the benefit of my city."
At those words, every person in the room was visibly shaken.
Cold fusion was a form of renewable clean energy—non-radiative and pollution-free.
Its fuel could be extracted from seawater. Just one liter of seawater-based fuel could yield the same energy as 300 liters of gasoline. If commercialized, it could completely replace fossil fuels like oil, coal, and uranium.
In other words, the future belonged to clean energy. And that future would be in Wayne Enterprises' hands.
"In the near future, Gotham will become the capital of clean energy. Cold fusion-powered industries will flourish—vehicles, cargo ships, power grids, medical tech, automation, manufacturing, transportation... enough to sustain all six million residents."
"Gotham will have the lowest unemployment rate in the world!"
"Gotham will have the lowest crime rate in the world!"
"Gotham will rise as a world-class city, a beacon of clean energy and modern civilization!"
"Only in such a city can light truly exist!"
With a faint smile, Bardi turned to the President.
"Wayne Enterprises is prepared to partner with the government to advance cold fusion technology—together, we can reshape the world with clean energy."
"Now, everyone… tell me. Can Batman be a hero?"
Many congressmen looked around in stunned silence. The future was energy—and this technology was in the hands of Wayne Enterprises.
And all Bardi wanted was to change his city.
He only asked that the government officially recognize him, Batman, as Gotham's hero.
The President's gaze flickered. Then, in a split second, he stood.
He could no longer risk the possibility that Wayne Enterprises might choose another country as a partner. Whether it was the Iron Soldier suits, military tech a century ahead of its time, or the cold fusion technology—it was enough to make any developing nation a superpower and challenge American supremacy.
The implications were catastrophic.
The opportunity, world-changing.
With only a moment of hesitation, the President rose, extended a firm hand, and smiled.
"Batman is Gotham's hero!"