A dust-covered man stepped in from the cold, brushing snowflakes off his shoulders as he pushed open the bar door. There was a relaxed smile on his face at first, the kind of expression a regular wore when walking into a familiar place, but it froze almost instantly as he took in the scene.
Every table was packed with bottles—whiskey, cocktails, anything that could be poured was already being poured. The entire place buzzed with energy, and Emily and Dam were rushing back and forth, barely keeping up.
"What the hell is going on here?" he asked, blinking in confusion.
Emily spun around at the sound of his voice, her face lighting up with a bright smile that hadn't been there for days. "We're celebrating Locke's return today! All drinks are twenty percent off!"
"Seriously?" The man didn't waste a second. He strode straight to a table, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and popped it open himself. Dam rushed over with a glass out of habit, but the man waved it off completely and lifted the bottle straight to his lips, taking a long, heavy swig.
Before long, the door kept swinging open as more regulars poured in. One of them slapped the doorframe as he entered, laughing loudly. "Damn, Locke—you're finally back!"
"I figured you bailed because you couldn't handle Emily anymore!" a large bearded man joked, his grin wide and shameless.
Emily shot him a sharp glare from behind the counter, but the big man only laughed harder, clearly enjoying himself. The tension that had lingered in the bar for weeks melted away as familiar faces gathered, each greeting Locke in their own loud, chaotic way.
Within minutes, every seat in the bar was taken. The crowd kept growing, and some customers were left standing, craning their necks for a spot.
"Seriously, what's with all these people?" one man asked in disbelief when he couldn't find a seat. "Don't you all have jobs?"
Emily leaned over the counter, still smiling. "Uncle Buken, you can head upstairs. We've opened up the second floor next door."
Her eyes drifted unconsciously toward Locke as he moved between tables, greeting customers and pouring drinks. The tight knot in her chest finally loosened, the anxiety that had haunted her for a month fading into something warm and steady.
She hadn't realized just how important he'd become until he was gone.
"Well, look at you, Emily. Business is booming," the middle-aged man chuckled as he headed toward the stairs.
Meanwhile, Locke slipped back into rhythm effortlessly, welcoming new guests and exchanging casual words as if he had never left.
Dam finally paused, twisting his round body as he stretched with a loud groan. Emily was already crouched by the wine crates, lifting bottles one by one and arranging them on the counter with practiced efficiency. Dam grabbed a handful of bottles and hurried toward a group of shouting customers.
"Hey, did you hear?" someone called out from a nearby table. "Catwoman ran into what's left of the Masked Society yesterday!"
A few heads turned immediately. "No way… those lunatics better not come into the East District."
"Wouldn't be surprising," another voice chimed in. "The Blood God and the Judge haven't shown up around here in a while. Feels like they've moved on, and now the criminals are getting bold again."
The bearded man who had teased Emily earlier leaned forward, his tone turning serious. "If that's true, we might be in trouble."
"Uncle, I've got some inside info!" Dam suddenly swooped in like a whirlwind, planting himself at their table with a mischievous grin.
"Oh?" The big man and his companions leaned in immediately, curiosity written all over their faces. "About the Judgment Council?"
Dam cleared his throat theatrically, his eyes flicking toward the drinks on the table. The hint was obvious. Without hesitation, several glasses were pushed toward him.
He picked one up casually and took a deep sip, his face flushing slightly as the alcohol hit.
"I'm telling you," he said, lowering his voice just enough to sound mysterious, "the Judgment Council is coming back to the East District soon. Catwoman won't have to run herself ragged much longer."
"Come on, you serious?" someone asked skeptically.
Dam snorted. "Didn't I call it last time? Who was it that said the Council would send someone big? And what happened? The Blood God showed up and cleaned house. This time? It'll be even bigger. They're going to crush those scumbags like thunder."
A few of them exchanged looks, clearly remembering.
"…He did call it," one of them muttered.
"Alright, alright—drink up!" someone laughed, lifting their glass.
The mood shifted again, turning lively as the group clinked glasses. Dam downed three more in quick succession, already getting pulled into another round of loud chatter.
Eventually, the stream of customers slowed, and for the first time that day, Locke found a moment to breathe. He made his way over to the staff table, poured himself a cocktail, and sat down.
The noise of the bar faded into the background as he let his thoughts settle.
Not long after, a slender woman approached quietly and stopped in front of him. She studied his face for a moment before speaking.
"Locke? It's been a while."
He looked up, confusion flickering in his eyes. The woman seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place her.
She caught the hesitation immediately and smiled faintly, though there was a hint of disappointment beneath it. "I guess you don't remember. You saved me once, back when you were just working here as a waiter."
Locke gave a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry. I've helped a lot of people—I can't keep track of them all."
It wasn't arrogance, just the truth. Back then, his actions had been instinctive, small interventions rather than anything deliberate. His focus had never been on recognition.
"I've been wanting to thank you properly," she continued. "But then you disappeared for a whole month. Now that you're back, I'd like to invite you to a family dinner."
"A family dinner?" Locke raised an eyebrow. "And you are…?"
"Mary Grayson."
He paused.
At first, the name meant nothing—but then something clicked. His original intention had been to decline, but now his interest sharpened.
Mary Grayson might not stand out on her own, but her son did.
Dick Grayson.
"So your family…" Locke leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting. "You're part of a merged lineage? Different branches brought together?"
Mary nodded. "That's right. Our family works in the circus right now, but recently we received a call from my grandfather. There's going to be a gathering, and each branch can invite guests."
She hesitated briefly before adding, "Some members of our family have strong financial influence in the East District. I thought… maybe it could help you. You deserve that much."
Locke held her gaze for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Thank you. I'll think about it."
Mary smiled, satisfied with that answer. She turned and left, her figure disappearing into the crowd while Emily watched quietly from a distance, her expression carefully neutral.
After a moment, Emily wandered over to the table, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "Who was that?"
"Someone I helped before," Locke replied easily. "She invited me to a family dinner. Apparently, there'll be some wealthy people there."
"Oh." Emily nodded, her gaze drifting away almost immediately. She turned back toward the counter, burying herself in work again.
Locke took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes narrowing slightly as his thoughts deepened.
Dick Grayson.
That wasn't just any name. If things played out the way he remembered, the kid would eventually become Batman's partner—Robin. The boy had talent, real talent, both physically and mentally.
Locke leaned back in his chair, letting the noise of the bar wash over him as fragments of memory surfaced. The storyline was hazy, pieces missing here and there, but one detail stood out clearly enough.
If events unfolded along that path… things were about to get very interesting.
....
Join my exclusive P@treon community for 60+ thrilling chapters!
Link: pa*treon.com/MidnightWonder (Remove the *)
If you join now you will get 2 Chapters for free as well.
Don't miss out, join now!