"When I was a child, after a bad day, falling into a mud puddle or scraping my knees, as the day was ending and I lay in bed, he would pat my head and say to me, 'Bruce, tomorrow is just a dream away.' "
Bruce Wayne recounted the past, a flicker of imperceptible sadness in his eyes.
The warmth of father-son affection from the past now brought only pain and sorrow when recalled.
"That was his favorite saying. At the time, I didn't quite understand it, but I was comforted by his gentle, loving gaze."
"Most of you know that my father passed away when I was still a child, shot alongside me in a crime alley on the other side of the city."
He pointed in a certain direction, a direction he would never forget.
A once narrow, nameless alley became famous because of his parents' shooting. After that shocking crime in Gotham, it gained its own unique name—Crime Alley.
"Mr. Wayne was a good man. He did the most charity work in Gotham during his lifetime, and many public facilities in the city today were donated by him."
"Mrs. Wayne frequently visited orphanages to see the children and cared about the lives of the orphans in Gotham."
Upon hearing this, the guests at the banquet mourned and sighed, lowering their heads slightly, expressions of sadness on their faces, as if grieving the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Wayne.
But whether it was genuine or not, who knew?
"Hypocrisy…"
Catwoman, standing beside Ron, scoffed dismissively.
These so-called upper-class individuals all loved to put on an act; some people's expressions were so fake they were embarrassing, pretending to wipe away tears for a long time without a single tear appearing.
"The power of money…"
She shook her head slightly, as if lamenting the hypocrisy of human hearts, completely controlled by money.
This group of people behaved this way only to curry favor with Bruce Wayne.
"It's hard to imagine such critical words about human nature and materialism coming from the mouth of a master thief who lives by stealing."
Ron glanced at her indifferently, unceremoniously debunking her.
A thief who steals jewels and artifacts, yet denounces others for submitting to money—is there something wrong with that?
"I… I merely take those treasures from the hands of people who only care about money, to appreciate them."
Catwoman choked, then forced a cold snort.
She stole jewels and artifacts purely because she liked them; most of what she stole was kept in her collection.
Only when she discovered something was a fake or not pretty enough would she sell it off.
How could appreciation be called stealing?
"I am rescuing those jewels and artifacts."
Ron wasn't Police, so he wasn't interested in discussing such things with her.
On the stage, Bruce Wayne continued speaking.
"As you might imagine, the time my father and mother passed away was the worst period of my life, filled with anger, fear, and sorrow. During that time, my father's proverb resonated in my mind, comforting me—Tomorrow is just a dream away."
The first half of this statement was true; at that time, his heart was indeed filled with fear, anger, and sorrow, but the latter half was false.
People are far from being able to easily let go of the past and look to the future. That gunshot in the snowy night would be his eternal pain, echoing in his midnight dreams.
"Why am I telling you all this, my friends?
Now, please look around us.
As we survey the buildings and streets, we will find that Gotham is a complex city, where backwardness and advancement coexist, with both squalor and splendor."
He extended his hand in a gesture, finally getting to the main event of the evening.
When he returned to the Wayne Group and discovered that his uncle was indeed engaged in corruption and arms smuggling within the Wayne Group, he was angry and realized that Alfred was right.
"My father and mother were smarter than I am. The power possessed by the Wayne Group is indeed far greater than what I alone could achieve to change Gotham."
A sharp glint appeared in Bruce Wayne's eyes.
His uncle used the Wayne Group to smuggle weapons, with business spanning several countries, leading to a twenty-something percent increase in firearm conflicts among gangs in several countries, primarily Japan.
Several small nations in Africa even experienced major political upheavals as a result.
If just a part of the Wayne Group's power could do so much, the Wayne enterprise was undoubtedly the most precious gift his parents left him.
He intended to use the Wayne Group to change Gotham, a city with extreme wealth disparity and intractable darkness.
"This city condenses the frustrations, pains, and fears of countless people.
Although we may have grown accustomed to the current situation, we have still managed to live on for decades."
"But ladies and gentlemen—Tomorrow is truly just a dream away!"
He suddenly raised his voice, his eyes gleaming with confidence, his impassioned tone echoing through the hall as he invoked his father's favorite saying.
Although his father's words did not soothe his pain in his youth, he now believed in them.
Tomorrow was not far; as long as he acted, the day Gotham would be changed was not far off.
The banquet guests listened in silence, their faces astonished and skeptical, looking at each other. They had a vague premonition that Gotham was about to experience a major earthquake.
"What does he want to do?"
Catwoman was a little surprised.
As a Gothamite, she was deeply curious.
The meaning Bruce Wayne conveyed seemed to be about changing the entire city of Gotham.
After saying so much, he couldn't possibly be all talk and no action.
"Please look, esteemed guests."
On Bruce Wayne's podium, a miniature model of Gotham suddenly had light cast upon it, like a ray of hope illuminating the darkness, projecting a holographic new city area that enveloped the model.
The technologically unsophisticated model and advanced projection technology, the low-lying factories, dilapidated small buildings, and skyscrapers—everything formed a stark contrast.
"That… that's Gotham's old industrial district?"
Someone exclaimed. In fact, it wasn't just him; everyone recognized it.
The area of the holographic projection was too large, almost occupying half of Gotham. What was Bruce Wayne going to do?
Some people in the banquet hall gaped, looking in astonishment at Bruce Wayne, who was giving the speech.
"Next month, the Wayne Group will make a direct and bold investment in Gotham's future.
In cooperation with multiple domestic companies, we will launch a plan to rebuild Gotham's outdated old industrial district!"
Bruce Wayne announced his grand plan, like a stone cast into water, stirring up a tremendous wave.
This would involve tearing down and rebuilding more than a third of Gotham!
What courage! No one expected the first thing Bruce Wayne did after taking control of the Wayne Group to be so monumental!
"Ladies and gentlemen, let us look forward to it together."
He spread his arms, saying in a deep voice.
"A grand gesture, undoubtedly a grand gesture.
Mr. Bruce Wayne, I feel as though I can already see a better future for Gotham."
"Mr. Wayne, you are the hope of this city!"
The guests below, after a few seconds of stunned silence, erupted into thunderous applause, cheering Bruce Wayne's grand plan and the beautiful blueprint he had outlined.
However, a significant portion of people's faces turned ashen, their hands clapping, offering reluctant applause.
"Well, Mr. Wayne certainly managed to shock everyone.
But he's biting off more than he can chew."
Catwoman, maintaining polite applause and a stiff smile, said to Ron beside her.
"Look at those people with grim expressions; every one of them is a significant figure in Gotham."
As someone from Gotham's lower class, she knew best how dark and terrible this city was.
She was very happy to see someone willing to save it.
But Bruce Wayne was too hasty.
"Gotham is going to be very lively…"
Scanning the guests, Ron sighed softly.