Chapter 85 – Gotham Journey, Successfully Concluded

Leo confirmed a half-hour departure time with Alfred and hurried back to his room.

He slicked back his hair with styling wax, added a pair of sunglasses, and looked at himself in the mirror. The transformation was decent—enough that he no longer looked like the same person.

He swapped the casual suit for a sporty school-style tracksuit. The handsome young man in the mirror looked no different from a typical student.

"This level of disguise should be good enough."

Admiring his youthful looks, Leo turned and walked out of the bathroom.

He checked his phone for large supermarkets nearby, mapped out his shopping route, and headed to the parking lot to meet Alfred.

The old butler had also changed into a more casual outfit, looking like a friendly, well-off gentleman.

"Let's go!"

Leo hit the gas, driving the understated black luxury car out into the streets.

Midday: The Wine Tasting

By noon, Leo returned to Wayne Tower loaded with shopping bags, ready for a "wine tasting session."

"Please, Alfred. You know your wines better than anyone. Help me pick the best-tasting bottles."

Alfred glanced at the twenty-some bottles of wine lined up neatly on the dining table, struggling to maintain his usual calm smile.

He had personally watched Leo comb through shelves at the supermarket, carefully selecting each bottle. Back then, he wasn't sure what Leo was planning—now it all made sense.

"Ahem, if I may be frank, Mr. Leo… All the wines you bought are mass-market brands. The average price of these table wines is under $10. Even the mid-range ones—at least by supermarket standards—go for under $20. In my opinion… there's not much difference among them."

Certainly, none of them were fit for Master Bruce's dinner table.

Leo was fully aware that the rich would never drink such cheap stuff, but these were his carefully selected seed products, and quality control mattered!

Under his insistence, Alfred reluctantly brought out a few glasses and did a proper tasting.

Ten minutes later, only six bottles were left standing in the center of the table.

With Alfred's help, Leo finalized his wine product line, which would cover the high-, mid-, and low-end tiers:

High-End (100% Grape Juice)

Dry red and white wines—definitely not for the average consumer.
Target: company execs, wealthy elites, high-end bars.

Mid-Range (60–40% Grape Juice)

Semi-dry wines, rosés.
Target: affluent folks, trendy bars, lounges.

Low-End (30–15% Grape Juice)

Blended wines, sparkling wines.
Target: casual bars, street-level mercs, middle-class civilians.

Based on Leo's market research, pricing was roughly:

High-end: €500–1000

Mid-range: €200–500

Low-end: €100–200

He was confident these would sell well—real wine made from actual grapes, even if not organic, counted as luxury in the year 2077.

Especially in places like Heywood, home to many Catholic Mexican-Americans, and in Night City, which still sat on the ruins of the former USA—wine was a solid bet.

Leo looked at the six remaining bottles like they were glowing treasure chests.

Ignoring exchange rates, the profit margins ranged from 20x to 50x. A great foundation for his first fortune in Night City.

"Alfred, see these six wines? They all come from just three Gotham wineries. So… can you perform the move again?"

He held up six fingers to his ear and wiggled them meaningfully.

Alfred chuckled.

"Buying wine doesn't usually require a phone call. Do you have special requests?"

"Exactly." Leo nodded. "I want to buy in bulk, by the crate. The boxes need to be unbranded, plain cardboard. Bottles and caps must have no labels, no markings, not even production dates."

It was a necessary precaution. Night City clients weren't exactly known for their principles—profit breeds betrayal.

Alfred quietly listened and seemed to understand what Leo wasn't saying.

He didn't try to hide the truth—he simply pointed to the hidden earpiece in his right ear.

The message was clear: It depends on Master Bruce.

Leo had expected that. He knew Batman was watching the whole time—there was no hiding from him.

The best way to deal with Batman is honesty. The more you try to hide, the more he suspects you're up to something shady.

Half a minute passed before Alfred relayed the question:

"Master Bruce would like to know—how much are you planning to buy?"

[Shironeko, have you finalized space allocation?]

[Yes. Standard 750ml bottles, 12 per crate. We can store 3,750 crates—45,000 bottles—in 90 cubic meters. That's plenty for the first batch. The remaining space is for food and emergency needs.]

Sounds good.

Leo gave his answer.

Alfred nodded after a brief pause.

"Very well. Your specifications are unusual, but the quantity is no issue for these wineries. Provide me the list—by this time tomorrow, the crates will be delivered to the underground storage at Wayne Tower."

Leo nodded in satisfaction.

He knew things would go smoothly—this is Gotham, after all. Batman's Gotham.

Low-end: 2,000 crates
Mid-range: 1,250 crates
High-end: 500 crates (split between red and white)

At minimum resale prices, the projected gross profit was close to 10 million.

The only unknown was how much his "partner" might claim.

Once the wine was sorted, the rest was easy.

That afternoon, Leo made another trip to the supermarket—this time ordering everything for home delivery.

He bought a massive supply of drinks, organic veggies, meats, grains, dairy, and seasonings. He planned to cook for himself once he got back—he was done eating synthetic crap.

Shironeko confirmed that the Singularity Space's "Inactivation" property halted all biological and chemical processes.

That meant food wouldn't spoil inside. Perfect for long-term storage.

With enough supplies to feed ten people for a month, Leo could now travel anywhere without worrying about hunger.

And with the extra souvenirs he'd picked out for his friends… this Gotham trip was just about complete.

If only Batman hadn't hovered around with scanners and instruments, monitoring his every move during packing—it would've been perfect.

Once everything was stashed, Batman—suited up in full armor—hurried off.

Leo returned to his room and pretended to work.

The 7th Day in Gotham.

Leo woke to good news.

[Leo, I've successfully parsed part of the Singularity's system. I can now slightly modify your departure time.]

Leo sat up, alert.

[Explain.]

[Previously, the countdown forced immediate recall. Now you can leave up to an hour early or an hour late. You control when—more flexibility.]

[Only one hour?]

[Technically, a two-hour window. Just no fixed time anymore.]

[Got it. For now—at least in the DC world—I'll try to leave exactly on time. Give Batman the wrong idea about how the system works.]

[Excellent. You're learning. Now get up and eat.]