I uploaded the wrong chapter yesterday.

I'm really sorry for that. It was supposed to be this chapter that was going to be uploaded but by mistake I uploaded the 160th chapter.

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Lady Shiva—whose true name is Sandra Wu-San—is universally recognized as the greatest martial artist alive, perhaps eclipsing even Batman himself, though such a distinction is better left unspoken among legends. Presently, she serves directly under the Demon's Head, her position as the strongest member of the League of Shadows uncontested. To say that she surpasses Ra's al Ghul in combat, notwithstanding his centuries of existence, only magnifies the scope of her talent. From time to time, I've allowed myself to imagine what it would mean to be trained by someone like her. Alas, such dreams are out of reach; the disappointment tastes bitter, lingering far longer than I would admit.

The atmosphere was thick with tension as I broke it. "To what do I owe this late-night visit?" My voice was deliberately measured—a blend of feigned patience and underlying exasperation. "It's already half past twelve. I'm aware the League of Shadows is partial to darkness, but surely, even you must know I have responsibilities in the morning. Let's do away with the formalities. Why are you here?"

Shiva's demeanor was unyielding, her reply crisp and unwavering: "No matter how long I study you, I cannot decipher you, Alex." The faintest edge of frustration lingered beneath her assassin's composure, though it never revealed itself fully.

"You're not the only one, Sandra Wu-San," I countered, intentionally addressing her by her given name—a subtle act of defiance, a quiet reminder of who she is beneath the legend. "Besides, your surveillance hasn't even lasted a month yet. You can't expect to know a person after such a short time. People are puzzles, and you're working with only a handful of scattered pieces."

"You were aware I was following you?" If there was surprise in her voice, it was skillfully masked, buried beneath layers of discipline. "I suspected as much, but I couldn't be certain."

"Of course I was," I responded, a small, knowing smile flickering across my lips. "Ever since Midvale—after your ambush. You stayed in the shadows the whole time, kept your face hidden. As soon as Power Girl arrived, you slipped away as quietly as you entered."

Her eyes narrowed, unreadable as ever. "Your sensor skills are impressive. That intuition combined with your peculiar spatial storage ability would make you an invaluable asset to the League."

I let her words settle, then shifted gears, veering deliberately off-topic. "So this is the angle, then. Ra's al Ghul wants to recruit me, and you're here as his envoy?"

She inclined her head in acknowledgment. "You know a lot. The Demon's Head, my own name—did the Dark Knight mentor you on such matters?" Her scrutiny was sharp, searching.

I shrugged, playing it cool. "Maybe. Knowing things has its benefits."

Recognizing her determination to stick to her script, I decided to prod her with awkward questions. "I wonder, do you people even eat properly? What's the League's nutrition program like? Are the showers at least adequate, or is everyone forced to take mystical baths in the Lazarus Pit, like Ra's? And, crucially, is there Wi-Fi?" I watched, reveling in the challenge I presented her stoic persona.

She remained silent, her dark eyes unflinching, revealing nothing. But I caught it—the barely perceptible twitch in her jaw, irritation simmering just beneath that icy exterior.

Awaiting her reply, I pressed on, adjusting my mock concern for dramatic effect. "No Wi-Fi? How do you function in the modern age? Even the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj have managed to connect. I'm genuinely concerned for your collective wellbeing, Sandra." I feigned sympathy, tipping the scales toward absurdity, allowing myself a suppressed laugh.

"In your downtime, do you at least kill boredom with mobile games?" My barrage of questions was relentless. "Subway Surfers, maybe Angry Birds? What do you think of these digital diversions? Your perspective could revolutionize League morale."

Shiva ignored my rambling, prioritizing her mission. "I am here to deliver Ra's al Ghul's message, nothing more. He orders you to join our ranks. To do so, you must lower your head and pledge allegiance—"

"That's enough," I cut her off, lifting my hand to interrupt, every movement deliberate. "Let's clarify. I'm expected to bow and swear fealty?"

"Yes," she replied simply, unmoved by my derision.

I shook my head, the resolve in my voice implacable. "No need to elaborate further. You've watched me for weeks and still missed a fundamental truth: I will never bow my head before anyone. Not for power, not for safety, not for tradition. Your assumptions are laced with arrogance. And seriously, the absence of Wi-Fi is unforgivable. What's the point of further conversation?" My sarcastic salute was the final note before turning away.

"If I were you, I would stay," Shiva warned, her tone like steel.

"You are not me," I replied, cool and dismissive, refusing to look back. "Or what—do you intend to take me by force?"

"If I must," she answered coldly, her intent clear.

From the darkness behind her, two shadowed figures stepped forward, draped in the League's trademark black robes. The red ribbons on their sleeves signaled their elite status—a visual cue that they were not merely enforcers, but champions among assassins. The pressure emanating from them was palpable; they were far above the average operatives I'd encountered in Midvale.

"They've arrived," I murmured, eyes flicking over the intimidating duo. "Personal guard detail, Sandra? I'd wager you handpicked and trained them yourself." My mock shiver did little to conceal my readiness.

But I was never one to walk alone. As the wind picked up, casting long shadows over the pine trees, two women advanced—each bearing a weapon summoned with silent efficiency. The familiar click of a twenty-shot Five-seveN pistol was echoing in one palm, while the Soul Thief katana glinted menacingly in the other's grasp.

"My protectors," I declared proudly. "It's all about the grand entrance, isn't it? Did you really think I would wander without backup?"

Even on a simple outing with Renee, I was under the watchful eyes of Sasha Bordeaux and Tatsu Yamashiro. They generally rotate shifts, but tonight both have decided to watch my back. Maybe they just wanted a night out together on Rickman Street, seizing the chance for fun before the chaos.

Who could have predicted this? Four women, each formidable in her own right, had kept a close—and sometimes relentless—eye on me. It's almost farcical, the way fate arranges such encounters.

Let's count the players: Alexandra Bordeaux, my stalwart guardian; Tatsu Yamashiro, bodyguard and secret confidante to the elusive Jack of Shadows; Lady Shiva, agent of the League and close to the Demon's Head; and Natasha Romanova—the Black Widow, legendary agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. With such company, anyone else might have felt important, or simply overwhelmed. I refused either sentiment, sinking instead into bemused defiance.

"Tatsu," Shiva's voice dropped to a menacing register at the sight of the katana, "You dare brandish the Soul Thief against me? Don't forget—this artifact belongs to the League of Shadows. You wield power that is not yours to hold."

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