Talia’s face remained carefully neutral, but her mind was elsewhere, tangled in the echo of her father’s words: “If it is the position he wants, then he shall have it.”

The position—Damian’s inheritance. Her son had been groomed since birth to inherit the League, molded to surpass every shadow before him. And now, an outsider threatened to upend it all. Her hands clenched into fists, the tension crawling up her arms, but she forced herself to maintain the mask of a dutiful daughter. Protesting now would only make matters worse.

Part of her, simmered at the injustice of it all. But another part calculating and disciplined understood the practicality. If Tobi’s ideals aligned with theirs, even as a leader he could become a powerful asset, a deterrent that might make the likes of Vandal Savage pause.

She cast a glance at Slade, sitting beside her. Even behind his mask, she could sense his barely restrained fury—selfish fury, of course. She briefly entertained the thought of forming an alliance to remove Tobi from the board entirely, but quickly dismissed it. Her father had clearly thought through every angle. Pleading with him without a compelling reason would be useless. And taking out Tobi? A pipe dream without question.

Finally, Ra’s spoke again. “Dismissed.”

Talia straightened her posture, masking every flicker of irritation as she and Slade walked away.

As they walked through the dim corridors of the stronghold, Slade struck up a conversation.

“So,” Slade began casually, his tone deceptively light, “what do you think of your father’s… new interest? You may look calm on the outside, but I can tell you’re fuming inside. After all, this concerns your son’s future—all that training, and for what? To follow orders from an outsider?”

Talia’s gaze remained fixed ahead. “Is that what you’re worried about?” she said, her voice cool and mocking. “That your nonexistent chances of being my father’s successor are slipping away?”

Slade’s jaw tightened for a fraction of a second before he replied, his voice measured. “A little. I mean, he is an unknown variable. What if he accepts… only to kill us all later and fully take over?”

Talia stopped abruptly and turned to him, her expression razor-sharp. “Your obsession with being my father’s successor is becoming… concerning. To the point that I’m starting to question where your loyalty truly lies.”

Slade’s smirk faltered slightly. “Of course my loyalty lies with the League,” he said, “but your father’s decisions now… they’re worrying.”

In one fluid motion, Talia drew a dagger and pressed it against Slade’s throat. He didn’t flinch.

“Questioning my father’s orders is a strong act of insubordination,” she said, her voice low and deadly. “The only reason I haven’t plunged this dagger into your neck is because you are still useful to the League.”

She withdrew the dagger and continued walking, her steps purposeful. “The only thing you should be concerned about is drafting an escape plan should Tobi be hostile and stop wasting energy on inheritances you will never get.”

Slade’s hand twitched toward the sword at his back, but he restrained himself. Inside, he was boiling. That wh*re… how dare she, he seethed. And the arrogance in her words… it makes them almost believable. Just you wait. Soon, the League of Shadows will be mine—and you, your father, and that spoiled spawn of yours will be lying dead at my feet.

He followed her, hiding the storm of rage building within.

Six hours later

The afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky as Max and Thena strolled down the street. In her small hands, Thena clutched a towering bucket of ice cream, her face smeared with streaks of melting vanilla. Her new obsession was in its infancy, and though Max silently regretted ever introducing it to her, the giddy grin plastered across her face made it worth it.

Earlier, during their shopping spree, Thena had surprised him. At first timid, she gradually grew bolder with every store they entered—snatching the lead, pointing at whatever caught her eye, even daring to pick the most absurdly expensive things. If Max hadn’t been loaded, his savings would’ve taken a fatal blow. Gone was the shy, uncertain girl he’d met. In her place stood someone brighter, mischievous, comfortable enough around him to chatter without waiting for him to start.

Maybe, Max thought, this was her true personality—suppressed all this time, only now beginning to surface. For a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of something strange. Maybe this is what it would’ve been like if I’d had a little sister in my past life.

But the thought passed quickly. Right now, he had a bigger role to play. With Thena’s powers, the last thing he could allow was for her to fall prey to the heroic disease plaguing the Justice League. He would steer her clear of that fate.

His musings were cut short by Thena’s voice.

“Umm… da— I mean, Max. Are we going to go shopping again soon?”

Max arched a brow. “I don’t think we’ll need to. Not after what you made me buy.”

“But you said I could choose anything I wanted,” she protested, lips smeared blue from the ice cream.

“And you did,” Max sighed. “You just went a little overboard.”

They passed by a park, children laughing and playing on swings. Thena’s eyes lingered on them for a moment before flicking back to her ice cream.

“Can we at least get more of this?” she asked hopefully, holding up the bucket.

“Absolutely not. You’ve already eaten three of those today. That’s an insane amount of sugar for one kid. You’re not touching ice cream for at least a week.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

Max dropped onto a bench, and she slid down beside him, sulking. A quiet moment stretched between them before Thena spoke again, her tone softer.

“Do you have parents?”

The question caught Max off guard. His gaze flicked skyward, thoughtful.

“I used to,” he said finally. “But that’s a long story for another time. Right now, it’s just me against the world.” He glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Well… me and you.”

Thena tilted her head, frowning slightly.

“You never realize how important something is,” Max continued, “until it’s taken from you. Only then do you understand how much it shaped your life.”

“Umm… I don’t understand,” Thena admitted, eyes wide with confusion.

“Maybe one day you will,” Max said. His tone softened. “But I hope you never have to experience it firsthand.”

She hesitated, then asked quietly, “What were they like?”

Max turned to her. “Warm. Strict. Caring. Everything you’d expect from parents.” His lips curved into a faint smile. “And that’s what I’m willing to give you, for as long as you’re with me.”

The moment hung between them. Then Max clapped his hands together. “Enough about me. It’s time for you to make some friends.” He pointed toward a group of kids gathered under a tree, laughing among themselves.

Thena followed his gesture, then immediately looked away, suddenly fascinated by the ground.

“Oh, come on,” Max urged. “Go introduce yourself. You won’t regret it.”

She didn’t move, lips pressed tight.

“I’ll buy you another bucket of ice cream if you do.”

Her head snapped up. “Promise?”

“Promise. Now go—shoo.”

Thena hesitated, then slowly stood. She glanced back at Max, who flashed her a thumbs-up and a smile. After a beat, she turned and began walking toward the children.

As soon as her back was to him, Max’s smile slipped away. His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice low and sharp.

“Well, if it isn’t the daughter of the Demon’s Head himself Talia al Ghul,” he murmured. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Metropolis

Lois Lane’s heels clacked against the downtown pavement as she hurried toward the restaurant, already ten minutes late for a meeting with an anonymous tipster. Normally, she would have rolled her eyes at the idea—there were countless scammers promising scoops that turned out to be nothing but hoaxes. Still, she hoped this time would be different; after all, an anonymous source had recently given her the video of Tobi ruthlessly taking down Waller.

She sprinted for a few more blocks until she reached the restaurant described in the message left at the Daily Planet. The meeting spot was peculiar—most anonymous tips preferred dark alleys or abandoned warehouses—but she supposed it was safer this way.

Scanning the room, she finally spotted her contact: a green-haired man with a scar over his left eye, sitting alone at a corner table. She approached and slid into the chair opposite him.

“You said you had someone for me. What’s the story?” she asked.

“Straight to the point, without even a greeting, after making me wait exactly thirteen minutes and twenty-two seconds,” the man replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, I was busy with… things. But since I’m here, it doesn’t matter,” Lois replied, tilting her head slightly.

“Before I tell you anything, I need to know something,” the man said, his tone suddenly sharp.

“And what is that?” Lois asked, suspicion creeping in. She had a bad feeling about this whole setup.

“Where did you get the footage from, Bell-Reeve? Who sent it to you?” he demanded.

“Well, I can’t just reveal my sources, can I?” she said cautiously.

“Please. Don’t make this hard,” the man said. His voice carried an edge that made her pause.

“What do you mean?” Lois asked, frowning.

“It means exactly what it means,” he replied. “But I need to know, or I’ll extract the information myself… and I promise, it won’t be pleasant.”

Lois’ eyes widened as his eyes shifted—morphing into the Rinnegan.

“You… you’re… Tobi,” she whispered, stunned.

End of chapter

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep