Chapter 1210 The Cry of the Lamb (Twenty-Two)

Dick seemed to be stunned. He felt that the person opposite was lying, because the black shadow in front of him was completely different from the Batman he knew.

But he couldn't refute it, because apart from Batman, no one would be so compatible with the darkness of Gotham.

Or, the weirdo who called himself Batman in front of him was more suitable for the darkness of this city than the Batman Dick knew.

When he stood in the slightly humid air of Gotham at night, every trace of moisture from the ends of his hair to the ends of his skin was like a black wave blowing in his face.

Dick had never seen such a Batman.

He knew that Batman was the dark knight of Gotham, and knew that Batman was not the bright and great hero written in fairy tales, but it was this dark charm that deeply attracted Dick, and at this moment, he seemed even more fascinated.

"Who are you?" Dick took a step forward slightly in confusion and asked the figure.

"I am Batman." The other party answered again, but looking at Dick's young face, he seemed to have extra patience, so he added: "Batman from another world."

"Another world?" Dick muttered to himself and repeated these words. He felt that he should not accept such a bizarre explanation. Do other worlds really exist? There is also Gotham there? There is also Batman?

"Do you know the Batman of this world." The shadow on the opposite side said a sentence. This should have been a question, but he said it in an affirmative tone, and it was natural.

Dick was a little more sober, he took another step back, bared his teeth like a cat, and said vigilantly: "What do you want to do? You fake, I will not tell you any information about Batman!"

"He should not be Batman." The shadow on the opposite side said in an extremely slow tone, and every word echoed clearly in Dick's ears, with an inexplicable attraction.

"What did you say?" Dick asked in surprise.

"Batman is Bruce Wayne." The deep voice sounded again, but before Dick could be surprised why he knew so much, he heard the person on the other side say.

"He should be Bruce, not Batman."

Dick opened his mouth wide, he suddenly felt a little guilty, instinctively glanced left and right, he stared at the person in front of him, wondering if he had the ability to read minds.

Just now, when he was standing upstairs, the scene of Batman taking him for a ride on the roof of Gotham and the scene of Bruce sitting in front of the bed to comfort him appeared alternately, making his spirit, which had not yet completely stabilized, even more confused.

And when a stranger suddenly appeared and exposed his thoughts, Dick felt fear, but couldn't help thinking, as expected, everyone thought so, and it was normal for me to think so.

Just when Dick was stunned, the black shadow in front of him disappeared. Dick didn't notice how and when he disappeared, but this made him believe that the other party was indeed Batman, because only Batman would come and go without a trace like this.

Children's thoughts are always clearly written on their faces. When Dick returned to Wayne Manor, Alfred brought a towel to help him dry the moisture on his hair. Bruce just walked out of his bedroom. …

Dick saw Bruce's action, but suddenly felt a little angry. He turned his head aside and didn't look at Bruce. Bruce walked to the sofa with some doubts and asked him: "What's wrong? Dick? Where did you go just now?"

"Why did you go into my room?!" Dick stared at Bruce's face. When he saw Bruce's slightly puzzled expression, he became even more angry. He raised his voice and said: "There are no secrets in my room! Great detective!"

"No, Dick, I don't want to pry into your secrets. It was Elsa who went to your room and asked you to tell her a story. When she found that you were not there, she started screaming and messed up your quilt. Alfred and I just carried her out." Bruce explained very patiently.

Dick was speechless, but the anger and irritability did not disappear at all. He gritted his teeth and said, "Okay, I was ignorant. Batman is always right." After that, he threw the towel away, and Alfred's hand holding the other end of the towel was also thrown away. Bruce frowned immediately. He blocked Dick's way back to his room and said, "Dick, don't do this. You almost hit Alfred. You have to apologize to him."

Dick turned around and glanced at the old butler's old face. He lowered his head and said in a muffled voice, "I'm sorry, Alfred, I'm going back to sleep."

After that, Dick rushed into his bedroom and closed the door without looking back. Bruce looked at his back and shook his head helplessly and said, "Sometimes, I really don't understand what he is thinking."

Bruce showed a hint of hesitation on his face. After a while, he nodded and said, "Maybe I've been too concerned about Jason and Tim recently. Dick is a sensitive child. My adoption of Tim may indeed make him feel unhappy. If I show that I like Jason and the other two too much, he will definitely be hurt."

"Have you ever asked about his academic performance?" Alfred reminded him while folding a towel: "Master, you just transferred Jason to another school, and you've been keeping an eye on their homework recently. Maybe you should pay more attention to the young master's academic performance."

Bruce touched his chin and nodded, thinking that what Alfred said made sense. He thought for a while and said: "Before, I frequently changed his school, which led to him being bullied. I think I should go to school to see him, but I can't rush in wearing Batman's uniform, that's too scary."

"How about you pick him up from school tomorrow?" Alfred suggested: "You can go early, meet his teacher, observe his classmates, and learn about his life in school."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, nodded and said: "I have to say, Alfred, you can always provide me with valuable inspiration. I really should talk to his teacher about him, including his academic performance, future development direction, and the arrangement of talent courses, etc."

Bruce returned to the bedroom and fell asleep while thinking about the content of the conversation with the teacher tomorrow. It was a night with everyone's own thoughts, and Bruce didn't sleep well. For some reason, he felt nervous. …

He knew that almost no one in this city could blame him, but when he thought about facing Dick's teacher and understanding his school life, Bruce still felt a little overwhelmed.

The next morning, Bruce got up early like every student facing an important exam, and went to the cafeteria of Gotham University to find Victor who was having breakfast.

Victor was a little surprised that he came to find him. While putting down his knife and fork, he said to Bruce: "Did you remember the wrong time for the group meeting? I said it was next Tuesday, not today."

"No." Bruce sat opposite Victor, but for some reason, he seemed a little restrained, with his hands on both sides of his windbreaker, and shook his head at the waiter who was about to come over, indicating that he would not order food.

"Today I'm going to Dick's school to ask... about his study situation." Bruce's words were a little dry, and his swaying eyes also showed that he was a little nervous now.

Before Victor could speak, Bruce put his hands on the table and said quickly: "I made a mistake before. I let Dick change schools frequently, which caused him to always be in an unfamiliar environment and was bullied. If Tim hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't have known about it."

"I'm a little worried..." Bruce said, pinching his fingers. "What are you worried about?" Victor asked.

"What if Dick doesn't have a good time in school? Can I continue to transfer him to another school? When will I stop? He doesn't live well in one environment and wants to change to another one, but what if he is not familiar with the unfamiliar environment?"

Victor smiled and said: "Don't worry, Bruce, Dick is a big boy. He has his own ideas and will choose a way to live that he feels comfortable."

Victor lowered his head and cut the food on the plate and said: I don't have children, but I have taught children of junior high school age. Children of this age have a lot of ideas. Although adults may not believe it, they can actually handle much more than you think. "

"Children of this age are not as fragile as you think, and Dick is exceptionally smart and strong, so don't worry too much. "

Although Bruce nodded, although his reason told him that Victor had done his best to comfort him, he could feel in his heart that Victor's comfort was not the answer he wanted.

Bruce didn't eat breakfast at all, but he didn't feel hungry. He just felt that his stomach was empty and his heart was sinking. After taking the bus to Dick's school, this feeling became more obvious.

The principal of the school warmly received Bruce. Dick's counselor was an older woman who looked very experienced. She sat with Bruce in the reception area of ​​the principal's office and talked about Dick's school life.

But there was actually nothing to talk about. In front of the principal, the counselor couldn't say that Dick was bullied or injured, let alone that Dick was not a good student.

When talking about the real results, the counselor tactfully said that Dick might have better development in ballet and rhythmic gymnastics. Bruce immediately heard her implication. ...

"Dick's grades are not very good? "Bruce asked.

The female counselor hesitated for a moment, but still said: "We do not encourage putting too much pressure on children at this age. There are many parents in the class who want their children to succeed, and they put too much pressure on their children to achieve success. "

Bruce understood her hint again. The counselor could not say directly that "Dick is not good at studying because his parents don't care about him."

Bruce actually does not have such a high emotional intelligence to understand the counselor's euphemistic words. He can only use his superb IQ to decipher the secrets behind these social hints, but this is actually very tiring.

"What do you think I should do? I mean, let him improve his grades without putting too much pressure on him." Bruce said after thinking for a while, but then he added: "I'm not asking him to go to a famous university, but I think such grades waste his talent. If he becomes lazy because I don't ask him, I think there should be some changes." The female counselor took out a few notebooks from the bag next to her, put them on the table and pushed them to Bruce, and then said: "These are the exercises left by the math teacher yesterday. The questions are a little difficult. With his academic level, it's normal for him to have some questions." Bruce opened the notebook while listening to her, and the counselor added: "We also allow children to write their calculation process next to the questions, so that teachers can better understand their problem-solving ideas and help them correct their mistakes." "But what worries me is that Dick's calculation process seems a bit sloppy. He wrote well in the first half, but in the second half, he always gets entangled in a number for some reason. After calculating over and over again many times, he even got a little irritable. Cross out all the previous processes. "

The counselor shook his head gently and said: "We will emphasize to the children that if there is a problem that cannot be solved, just put it aside first, or even hand it in blank, and then come to us to ask how to do this problem, every teacher will answer it for him. "

"But there is no answer in the homework he handed in today, the calculation process is sloppy, and he also scribbled in the notebook, and he did not find the teacher today to ask about the real problem-solving process. "

"Mr. Wayne, if you hope that he can achieve better results, I think we can start with study habits and patience. Dick is not only in math. If your company can help him reduce the number of times he is impatient, I think it will greatly improve his grades. "Bruce looked down at Dick's notes in the notebook, and his brows furrowed deeply. He could feel that he was angry, because Dick's exercises were really sloppy. It was obvious that he didn't write them on the table properly. Some of the strokes had fine ink marks at the end, like many small insects crawling on the paper. Obviously, this is not a problem of ability, but a problem of attitude. Last night, Dick didn't do his homework well. He made a few mistakes and found that he couldn't calculate it. He also covered up the previous calculation process, as if he was afraid that others would find out that he calculated a lot, but calculated it wrong. This is sending a bad signal. Bruce thought that Dick's teacher was a little too euphemistic. This kind of impatient behavior and the attempt to cover up the mistakes would make the blood pressure of any teacher who saw this homework soar. So, when picking Dick up from school in the evening, Bruce seemed a little silent. --Go to view

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