Chapter 2219: Battle of Two Cities! (Sixty-One)
Chapter 2193 Battle of Two Cities! (Sixty-one)
Batman is experiencing the longest day.
Later that day, Batman finished the work of Wayne Group as quickly as possible. His rigorous character made him investigate the business conditions of the past three months and adjust many details. Therefore, although he was very efficient, it was already late at night when he finished.
There was a light left for him in Wayne Manor, but when he stepped into the hall of the manor, he saw a scene he had never seen before.
If Batman had to describe this scene, his artistic cells, which were no less than those of humans, would describe it as "lively remains" and "warm wreckage".
The fire in the fireplace had gradually gone out, the black charcoal faded the residual red, and the ashes rose along the flue. When the faint firelight magnified it into a swaying shadow and reflected on the sofa, it looked like a group of jellyfish floating and rising in the dim light of the deep sea.
There was a noticeable dent on the fabric sofa, which was a detail that Batman's instinctive detective vision had stuffed into his mind. He saw several familiar figures sitting in front of the fireplace. They were his Robins, Damian, and several younger children, as well as Bruce sitting on the sofa opposite the fireplace.
In the trance of the firelight, they leaned forward to look at the pictures on the coffee table. When Batman walked over, he saw several white and slender young hands, or slightly immature children's hands, writing and drawing on a piece of white paper.
Now that everyone has left, only the drawing paper on the coffee table, the densely drawn football formation pattern tells what kind of lively discussion had taken place here about an hour ago.
The bone china cup and saucer were placed separately, and there were still traces of warm water flowing on them. When drinking water, it must have been very urgent, wanting to quickly pour the water into the throat, and then open the mouth to say the next sentence.
The fine biscuit crumbs spread all the way to the ground along the edge of the coffee table. They ate and looked at it. Of course, they also used their hands with the residue to pull the drawing paper and push the people around them.
There were many footprints in front of the coffee table, with the body always leaning forward, listening carefully, discussing fiercely, and two young men squeezing on a sofa twisting and turning, just to be able to see the tactical formation they drew from the best angle.
At this time, it was silent here, but Batman was surrounded by the excitement in his imagination, just like every time he returned to the Bat Cave in the deepest darkness before dawn, he saw the traces left by the birds in the nest all night.
But it was usually more fragmented, like scattered flames, but this time someone gathered them together, so the crackling sound of burning firewood was also deafening in Batman's imagination.
"They are very happy." Alfred's voice appeared behind Batman. He brought Batman a cup of hot tea and said, "No one can convince anyone until eleven o'clock, so we plan to hold a simulated ball game on the lawn in the garden tomorrow."
Batman's fingers paused when he took the teacup. He lowered his eyes and blew the tea, and asked, "Are there enough people?"
"Of course not, but Dick decided to call his classmates. He met a few friends in the summer camp before entering high school, and there are also classmates who took ballet classes together."
"In the garden?"
"Yes, the lawn on the east side. I will get up early tomorrow morning to clean it up. Master Thomas said that they will come back tomorrow morning and we will still have breakfast together."
"That's a good thing, Alfred."
Batman nodded, his expression was a little inexplicable. Even Alfred, who knew him best, couldn't say that he often saw Batman's expression like this.
Or something close to... envy?
Alfred knew best when Batman would take off his serious coat. He had seen the slightly tired Batman returning at dawn more than once, throwing himself on the sofa like a normal human being, drinking hot tea, and observing everything in the Batcave.
Alfred knew that he was not looking at the equipment or furniture, or even the amazing collections in the Batcave, as if the sound waves that bats could not be perceived by humans could allow him to see things that humans could not see.
Perhaps in Batman's eyes, time was not necessarily continuous. His amazing observation allowed him to see every detail of Robin's activities in the Batcave, and his brain, which was completely beyond the scope of humans, allowed him to turn all traces into real scenes and reproduce them around him.
In this way, he seemed to be in this bustle, shuttling among the flocks of birds, squeezing through a group of fluffy feathers, shiny and smooth young beaks, and sleeping until dawn.
But if this fantasy is combined with another younger self, Batman will inevitably be surprised to find that he can actually dig out a little humanity from the cracks in the hard rock wall he created. He feels a strange jealousy.
In the past, this kind of excitement was prepared only for him, because only he could see it, only he could imagine it, and only he could remember it.
Even this group of birds can't do it. They regard every day they spend here as an ordinary day. There is no need to care about it, let alone remember it deeply, because they are the creators, and they already have it at that moment.
But Batman observed and collected it only afterward, so he picked it very carefully, constructed it repeatedly, and finally preserved it with great care.
He couldn't have it, because if he joined it at that moment, the creators of this liveliness and warmth would flee in all directions because of tension and fear.
Batman understood the cause of this situation better than anyone else, because he chose to make himself a symbol of fear. Fear is an extreme emotion, and there is no such thing as being able to control it. Either you can shock everyone, or you can't shock any of them.
So he chose to stay away, observe, collect, and reconstruct, enjoying the lively and warm family atmosphere in the field of more psychiatry than social engineering. He thought it was good for them all.
But now there is such a bat, Batman can't even say that he is a bat, he looks exactly like a bird.
Even if he doesn't hold a disrespectful attitude, Batman can only say that this guy is more like Nightwing when he is not upset with him. He just mixed into the flock of birds and created and enjoyed the liveliness with them.
He didn't even fly past like a thief, or sneak in. He just spread his wings and slammed into the bird's nest, making a louder noise than a robin or even a cuckoo, like a singer leading the birds to sing in a fairy tale.
Batman looked up and saw Bruce standing quietly in front of the patio on the second floor, one hand holding the railing and the other hand hanging at his side - sorry, Batman can only think so. If Bruce didn't laugh, he wouldn't be able to tell Bruce from Nightwing at the first time.
Bruce laughed, but Batman thought he might as well not laugh. Who can tell him from the Joker now?
"We had a pleasant chat." Bruce leaned forward, folded his arms and leaned on the railing, and said to Batman with a smile: "We decided to play a friendly match tomorrow morning, or more precisely, after breakfast. I decided to name it the first Wayne Cup."
"Of course there will be a Wayne as the referee. We only need one. I think it's Thomas. What do you think?"
Batman looked up and looked at him quietly. After a while, he said: "You are me. We all know what kind of people we are. Putting aside the tragedies that have been reversed in your life, do you think you can never show your true colors?"
Bruce restrained his smile a little. The moonlight coming in from the long Gothic windows on both sides of the patio just fell on both sides of his body, like a pair of narrow and long wings spread out.
"Antisocial personality, manipulative tendency, psychopath, we all know that there is no essential difference between us and that madman."
Bruce stretched out the index finger and thumb of one hand, made a gun shape, and then pointed his index finger at his head and said: "We are the madmen we hate. You choose to refine your will and wisdom into the thickest iron chain to lock those crazy parts tightly, as long as the high function brings us advantages."
"And you choose to merge with them." Batman's low voice echoed in the hall: "You accept them and use them freely, just like those madmen, you enjoy the mental manipulation and abuse of others by any means to attract others' attention."
Batman looked directly into Bruce's eyes and said: "You are not really interested in football. In fact, you disdain their crowds and enjoyment of excitement. What really excites you is to oppose me and take something from me. This is the most typical performance of mental sadism."
Bruce's face was completely devoid of smiles, and he looked a little indifferent. He hugged his arms and wore slippers, and walked down from the second floor with a clatter.
As his footsteps passed through the light cast by one window after another, he seemed to be walking down the stairs of heaven, sinking from light into darkness.
Until he stood in front of Batman, Batman saw through those blue eyes a blood-red-eyed man standing in this body.
They were completely integrated, which was the worst news Batman had heard recently.
It was not that the Joker and Batman were integrated, but Batman's own reason and madness, indifference and excitement, darkness and light, imagination and logic, absurdity and reality - all the tragedies and comedies in Batman's life, completely integrated.
He was no longer a knight bound by creed, but a madman who accepted reality, no longer the embodiment of extreme emotions, but an ordinary person who was completely reconciled with himself.
It didn't take him long to complete this change. Batman could see that this was not exactly the same as the Bruce he saw in Schiller's thinking tower. He should have been silent for a while and completed the spiritual integration and transformation.
It was wonderful, Batman could only comment on it.
But Bruce was apparently more exciting than he thought, because the next morning, he got up and made breakfast.