Cameras… in the meeting room?!
When the footage appeared on the screen, everyone turned pale with shock and fury, their eyes darting around the chamber, searching desperately for the hidden device.
"Don't bother looking. Micro-drones filmed it. You won't find them even if you pop your eyes out…" Gilbert snapped his fingers again.
The screen went black.
All eyes shifted back to him, expressions twisted as if they had swallowed flies.
But beneath the disgust, an even heavier feeling settled in their chests—fear. Fear of the mysterious organization standing behind Deadshot.
What had surfaced so far was terrifying enough, and they all knew it was only the tip of the iceberg.
First—Deadshot's abilities. The power to create clones, the strange "immortality." Even without knowing what other tricks he had, those two combined already made him nightmarish.
Second—the Asian man who appeared in Greenland Mall like a flash of light. He had wiped out a squad of armed killers in an instant, then vanished without a trace. His speed was so unreal it reminded them of the "lightning" from Central City—the Flash.
Third—this figure before them, able to seize another's body and speak through them. Telepathic possession wasn't unique in the world, but it was still one of the most dangerous abilities to face.
And these three were only the ones who had revealed themselves.
How many more hid in the shadows of that mysterious faction? None of them knew.
But one thing was certain: the group's strength went far beyond just "a few capable supers."
The details gave them away.
For instance—how had they traced the Court of Owls back through Greenland Mall's surveillance feeds?
The Court themselves had only been able to access the footage so quickly because of Owl, their own advanced artificial intelligence.
Owl wasn't a true self-aware AI, but it was highly sophisticated, equipped with all the Court's vast resources and Gotham's cutting-edge tech.
It had torn down every defense in seconds, pulling up feeds from every angle inside the mall.
Yet somehow, these strangers had followed that trail back—meaning their tech was at least equal to Owl's.
And when 'Gilbert' casually snapped his fingers and hijacked their display to play the recording? That meant their defenses had already been breached.
Which in turn meant: technologically, this unknown group was stronger than the Court of Owls themselves.
That wasn't something you achieved by gathering a handful of powered freaks.
That meant foundation. It meant resources, knowledge, backing—the kind that might exceed even their centuries-old empire.
Everyone seated here was a true elite of Gotham, no fool among them.
And smart people could read signs.
From a few glimpses, they could already see the shape of something larger.
And the more they saw, the more their wariness of this mysterious organization grew.
"I admit it—if you expose this, Task Force X will hunt me, maybe even kill me," Amanda said darkly. "But Gotham doesn't need so many saviors. That doesn't serve the Court of Owls' interests…"
"If you think threatening me is the same as threatening the entire Court, then you're gravely mistaken!"
"And don't forget—we're not the only ones who can be threatened. We've ruled Gotham for centuries, and it wasn't by luck!" Amanda's face twisted with defiance.
'Gilbert' gave her a long glance but said nothing.
Amanda's eyes narrowed, voice sharp. "We may not yet know who you or that Asian man are, but don't forget—we do know who Deadshot is. No matter how he's changed, his family and friends still live here in Gotham. If you dare act recklessly, I promise you, none of them will die peacefully!"
Her words left no doubt—she was prepared to burn the bridge, even if it meant being cast out of Task Force X.
She didn't believe for a second that all this—the effort to find them, the push to make Deadshot into Gotham's next symbol—was just for fun.
And she didn't believe Deadshot's mysterious allies would disregard his feelings and act with no restraint.
So she shoved his loved ones onto the table as bargaining chips.
She was gambling they wouldn't dare move.
But instead of anger, the man in Gilbert's skin only looked amused, smiling faintly as he asked:
"Can you speak for the Court of Owls?"
The elder, Moses, who had been silent since Amanda spoke, suddenly cut her off.
"You too? You've been controlled?!" Amanda stared in disbelief.
She hadn't expected that while she was baring her teeth, ready to fight to the end, her own side would stick the knife in her back.
The Court of Owls had no official boss, at least not in name. But in truth? In an organization that had survived for centuries, there were always those above and those below. Otherwise, it would have collapsed long ago.
Moses was one of the highest among them.
Compared to him, Gilbert, his sparring partner, even Amanda herself—all were far beneath.
That was why he could silence arguments with a word, why Amanda had been forced to explain herself without daring to push back.
And now, Moses declared Amanda could not speak for the Court.
That made it final. Everything Amanda had said moments ago—null and void.
No wonder her first instinct was to assume he too had been possessed. Why else would he cut her off at the knees?
"Possessed? You think too much," Moses said coolly. "Mental tricks don't work on me."
"I can confirm that," another man spoke up—a bespectacled figure.
'Gilbert' looked between Moses' glasses and the other man's with mild interest. "Ah. It's those glasses, isn't it?"
"Correct!" the second man said proudly. "My latest design. Not only blocks psychic powers but has several other functions. The cost is high, so for now only I—"
"Shut your mouth!" Moses snapped, glaring daggers at him. "No one asked for your résumé!"
The man flinched, realizing too late he'd already revealed far too much. He clamped his lips shut and shrank back into the shadows.
But even without further explanation, everyone in the room had understood enough.
-- ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⚑𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥
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