Chapter 81: Out of Control

The last lot at the bottom of the box is a piece of kryptonite, which can explain why so many people with great influence all over the world have gathered in Gotham and came to this illegal auction. All the distinguished guests at the meeting threw the disguise of gentlemen and ladies aside, and countless pairs of hot gazes, like hunters looking at their prey, directed straight at the little green stone, and it seemed that everyone was bound to win.

It's no wonder that the fake Superman's move to cross the line these days is a heavy wake-up call for everyone in the upper class of the world. Every business tycoon who has more or less participated in illegal acts and touched moral boundaries, and any national politician who has hidden ulterior secrets, they all feel the huge threat from the name Superman, and this almost encompasses the relevant industry Everyone.

Today, perhaps he is interfering in the regime by force in a certain country in the Middle East. Who knows if he will appear in your desk or bedroom tomorrow and force you to agree to some impossible requests?

Kryptonite is the best insurance to ensure that this omnipotent Kryptonian stays away from him. In this particular situation, it is more effective than any high-tech aircraft, artillery, or even nuclear weapons. So as the auctioneer said, the value of this small stone is indeed higher than all the previous lots, but it is difficult for you to set a suitable starting price for it.

"I understand now what you are going to do there, sir." Alfred said through wireless earplugs. "I assume, where did you go to take this kryptonite?"

"No, Alfred." Bruce said lightly. "That kryptonite is the lot I hung up."

In the next second, he seemed to hear the sound of the old housekeeper choking on drinking water, and a severe cough that followed.

"Hug...sorry, sir," he calmed down after a while, "I may not have heard clearly, what did you just say?"

"I said that I hung up the kryptonite for auction. Of course, it was anonymous." Bruce said calmly, "We know that there are kryptonite reserves in our hands around the world, except for myself. Only Lex Luthor. And I went to Luthor and he assured him that he had nothing to do with this fake Superman. I don't think he lied this time."

"You still haven't explained why you want to sell the kryptonite in our hands." Alfred mumbled, "If you feel that the money is not enough, there are still many rare antiques in Wayne House to sell, not to mention your garage. A super sports car that most of you never use."

"It's bait." Bruce explained. "We assume that someone created this fake Superman for a special purpose. They certainly can't let this Superman turn around and deal with themselves. They need a situation where Superman is out of control. A weapon that can hold him."

"Kryptonite," Alfred said, "So you think they will come to this venue to participate in the auction?"

"hundred percent."

"Do you need me to remind you, sir? You may be the only rich man on earth who are not afraid of Superman. All capable people will be attracted by this bait. How do you find out from so many people? ..."

"That's why I want to come here in person." Bruce said, "At present, most of the guests in this venue have been ruled out by me. Let's just say the man in the private room opposite us. Did you see him?"

As he spoke, he cast his gaze to the opposite side, and Alfred used the monitor on his retina to simultaneously see the situation in the compartment. A gentle-looking man was leaning against the railing, wearing a white suit, holding a goblet in his hand, holding a half glass of wine red. Behind him stood two bodyguards in black suits. The physique under the suits was very strong and looked well-trained.

"I saw it, sir, but I don't see any difference from the guests in other rooms." Alfred said frankly, "I can only see what they have in common-wearing expensive formal attire and carrying a few Little brother in sunglasses."

"That person is a secretly sent by the government of a certain country. From some of his personal habits, he speculates that it may be a certain country in Eastern Europe. I won't mention the specifics." Bruce said, his sharp gaze then moved to To the next private room, "Now what you see in this private room is a representative sent by the British. The next woman is from an Asian country and also represents the government... And what you see now Man, he is one of the richest arms dealers in the Middle East. Considering his business, I guess he also has enough reasons to want to photograph that stone..."

"In my opinion, they are all the same." Alfred said.

"Details, Alfred. They can wrap themselves in suits, but some personal habits can't hide them. Everyone always hides a lot of details, just like their business cards tell you each of their stories. , You just need to observe carefully."

When Bruce's eyes flashed from a private room, Alfred was suddenly surprised: "Wait a minute, am I dim-eyed, or is it Mr. Luther sitting there?"

Bruce moved his gaze back, and indeed Lex Luther was sitting in that private room. The golden light illuminates his bald head, making it hard to admit it.

"It's him, I noticed him when I walked in."

"But you said he has nothing to do with this."

"He is indeed not on my suspect list for the time being." Bruce said, "If I were Luther, I would also care who took this kryptonite away."

He paused, then moved his gaze to a private room on the inside of the second floor. At that table sat a sturdy man with the same bald head. His sturdy body bulged his suit jacket with a pinch on his chin. Mustache.

Bruce frowned, his eyes stopped there for a while. Alfred asked, "Is there any problem there, sir?"

"I can't see anything from that person, Alfred," Bruce said. "He didn't leave any clues or traces on his body, so I can't infer his origin and background."

"You can't even figure it out, sir?"

"Yes. And if someone keeps me out of sight, they are often difficult opponents," Bruce said. "On this alone, they have become the number one suspect in the venue."

While they were talking, the auction of kryptonite in the venue was also in full swing.

Unlike the tepid attitude towards the previous lot, almost the entire venue has joined the auction of this green stone, and the price has become more and more exaggerated in this short period of effort. The auction price rose steadily, and it took only a while to catch up with the highest price in the previous lot.

When the price was raised to the 20 million mark, the man in the private room that Bruce had been watching finally made a bid.

"Fifty million."

Without any hesitation, the price increase directly more than doubled, and such a majestic way undoubtedly attracted everyone's attention. All eyes were drawn to the bald man with a moustache, and almost everyone secretly asked questions like "Where is this guy sacred?"

But the man was expressionless, sitting on the side of the railing rigidly, as if it was not him who had just reported the amazing price, quietly waiting for the next person to bid.

"Fifty-one million!" There was only a little silence, and soon someone continued to follow up. The man's method of raising prices quickly is amazing, but it doesn't mean that other customers can't afford higher prices. In fact, most of the people who come here expect a higher price, and they all have such a small piece of kryptonite.

"Fifty-five million!"

"58 million!"

"80 million." The man still bidding, his voice didn't fluctuate at all, it sounded like a machine. Bruce couldn't help frowning, and his doubts about these unknown customers grew even more.

"82 million!" Someone continued to bid. Bruce noticed that it was the representative of Eastern Europe he had mentioned before, but his expression was already ugly, and it seemed that the current price was close to the limit they expected.

"One hundred million." The man continued to bid, his expression unchanged.

Prices continue to soar, but more and more people are beginning to withdraw from the battle. Some smaller countries and relatively weak forces have gradually withdrawn. This is no longer a game they can afford. No matter how much you want that piece of kryptonite, you can only sigh. The air in the venue seemed to be heating up rapidly, and the blushing auctioneer had to take out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Although he had been mentally prepared for a while, he seemed to have somewhat underestimated the allure of this small stone to the top leaders in the world under the current situation. For the first time in his career as an auctioneer, he encountered such a crazy situation.

But no matter how you compete, the absolute dominance in the field is still in the hands of the bald man. If others add 100,000, he will add 1 million, and if others add 1 million, he will return 10 million. It seems that among the countless wealthy bosses in this entire stadium, this guy is the only one who truly deserves the title "seeing money as dung". When he quoted the sky-high price of 200 million, he didn't even move his brows, as if it was just a hollow Meaningless numbers.

By this time, most of the participants have already withdrawn. It seems that by this step, they have finally exceeded the psychological price of most forces. They have to figure out whether the price is worth it. Maybe they might as well save the money and make more. Nuclear warheads.

"Two hundred million dollars at a time." Seeing that no one increased the price, the auctioneer had already raised his gavel.

However, at this moment, a silent voice sounded, and the sound fell in the venue like thunder: "Three hundred million."

The people took a breath, and even Bruce couldn't help but temporarily moved his attention away from the bald man who reported the sky-high price of 300 million yuan, and followed the crowd to find the crazier offerer.

They found another bald head.

Lex Luther sat leisurely at the side of the stand in his private room, completely ignoring the strange eyes cast by the crowd, and looked at the competitor he provoked with a half-playful look.