"Le Fin Absolue Du Monde, Mr. Nygma." The sharply dressed man in the charcoal suit decants a bottle of bourbon from with a label that reads a date of 1921. He pushes the crystal glass containing the amber fluid towards the green-clad sleuth
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"I have heard the film's name before - and something of the incident at Cannes, but I hadn't given credence to the rumors that there was a supernatural element. I must say, this case intrigues me."
He taps his chin, thoughtfully.
"I will accept the challenge."
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Nygma's no dummy - he's dealt with the mysterious rich types before, and some of them like to assess consequences for failure beyond the reasonable.
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Muerte smiles and bares his teeth. "I have no doubt that you have the wherewithal to locate my film. I will give you $50,000 as a deposit, as a show of confidence. The reason I hire you is because I have no doubt also that you will go to any extreme to obtain this reel. I don't expect you to commit murder, but I expect you to be loose with the law. This film has gone from owner to owner with no legal writ and I am sure many less-than-legal deals. If you have to follow the same course then I expect you'll do so with discretion."
Muerte stands and extends his hand. "At any rate, there will be no penalty for failure. Keep the deposit and go live a happy life, wondering what happened to the rarest most mysterious film in existence. Shake on that?"
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