Chapter 1823: Summer in Fools' Village (35)_1

Although the sweltering summer has long passed, people who were immersed in the terror of the heat wave haven't yet quickly rebuilt the psychological defense line of stepping out to work. Merkel got in touch with the gardeners and gardening companies more than a dozen times, to only receive responses such as, "we are understaffed."

In Gotham City, the costs of hiring workers from other regions at a high price are unimaginable. Seeing that the best planting season was about to pass, Shearer decided not to wait and took it upon himself to fix the garden.

It was a surprisingly bold decision because the Manor's garden is not like a flower bed in the yard of an ordinary small villa. The most distinctive feature of the former Viscount Manor was its huge and exaggerated backyard, which boasted of being the best in the West District. Even the simple shoveling of dead plants would take a tremendous amount of effort.

However, Shearer had the manpower handy. He stood by the door, watching Clark and his dog wearing watertight boots walking into the garden, and then he patted the mud off his gloves satisfactorily.

Pamela stood in front and instructed Clark, "Over here, all the plants in this entire area need to be uprooted. Don't look at me with that expression- they're long dead. I'm not even upset about it. Why should you be?"

Clark hesitated, parted the weeds in front, and after looking inside, he asked, "When you say 'uproot,' do you mean just destroying the visible parts on the ground, or do you mean pulling out the roots?"

"If possible, I hope to bury these plant corpses and then till about two feet deep of soil. That would make the later plants survive better."

Pamela spread her hands out, "Plants withering is inevitable, they grow, bloom, then wither; this is the rule of nature. The sudden death of plants due to climate change is not something anyone wants to see. Still, I hope they can have a good end and participate in the cycle of nature."

Clark nodded, understanding the explanation. He blinked lightly, and a red laser shot out from his eyes. But he carefully controlled it to overturn the soil three to four feet deep. Fallen plants were also turned over to the bottom. In a short while, they would become new nutrients.

Pamela watched in awe as a large nearby area was plowed flat within a few tens of seconds. As the lasers disappeared, Clark broke out into a brilliant smile, "Thanks to the trip to Mexico, I now know the tremendous utility of lasers. I can now till the fields."

Looking at the ridges appearing on the ground, Pamela frowned, and at this time, Shearer came over and asked, "Let's start up a small vegetable garden. Where do you think would be the best place? Pamela?"

"Do you know how to garden? Professor," Pamela couldn't help but sound skeptical, "Pardon me for saying so, but I don't think a gardening company is going to handle a vegetable plot for you. It's an entirely different matter than ornamental gardens."

"Vegetable gardening is a pretty taxing job. Sowing, nurturing, pest controlling, breeding - if it's for pure decoration, that's fine. But if you want both size and flavor, you'll likely have to expend a lot of energy in maintenance."

Pamela looked somewhat troubled, "Gotham's vegetables are peculiar. They have quite a personality, I'd worry that they would bully and dominate the transplanted flowers."

"Then let's keep them further away from the flowers. My garden is expansive enough to do that, right?"

Seeing that Shearer didn't seem to be changing his mind, Pamela pondered and then said, "Okay, no problem. We can grow vegetables on the isolated plot next to the back warehouse. But I can't guarantee that they won't wander out when they grow bigger."

"Let's build some fences then, and if that doesn't work, we'll use electric fences." Shearer walked forward, intending to examine that plot.

Pamela followed and said, "Professor, although I don't know why you're so hung up on vegetable gardening, Gotham truly isn't..."

"Pamela." Shearer paused and looked back at Pamela, somewhat helplessly, "Overly lively plants are precisely what I want. If I didn't give my butler something to fuss over, he'd use his astonishing horticultural skills to tend to the newly planted flowers. Do you think the flowers could survive three months?"

Pamela didn't respond.

They arrived at the plot referred to by Pamela. It was a small piece of land next to the southern warehouse of the garden. It was sandwiched by two neatly paved stone paths, almost utterly different from the plots in front.

Shearer was pleased with the location of this nursery. After Clark flipped the soil, they began to fence the plot.

"Cabbages usually do not jump very high; this could be termed as their weakness," Pamela said, walking around the garden with Shearer to find suitable wood. "The leaves that support their bodies are really fragile, and they can neither resist falls nor jump higher than one meter. I think we could build a 1.5-metre fence."

"It must be wooden, and not a woven fence, because their fists are much more powerful than their feet. Also, I'm not sure if they'll climb up one by one, so it's best to leave some wooden spikes on the top."

Shearer and Pamela led the way, followed by Clark, walking behind them with Little Kryptonite. When they reached a birch tree that had been cut down a while ago, Little Kryptonite suddenly ran towards a flower bed.

"Oh, no, Little Kryptonite, get back here, your paws will get dirty!" Clark yelled, rushing to catch his dog, but Little Kryptonite kept sniffing along the ground before finally stopping at a small puddle next to the flowerbed and began barking incessantly.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" Clark quickly knelt down to pet Little Kryptonite's head in an attempt to soothe his dog.

Shearer and Pamela came over and looked at the puddle. They saw their reflections on the water surface and the subtle ripples in what looked like a miniaturized lake.

In the laboratory of the Batcave, Bruce was focusing on his microscope while Lex was staring at the laboratory instrument without blinking. After a while, Lex spoke first, "Don't you feel something's off with Professor Shearer's attitude?"

"He doesn't seem too keen on taking care of this matter," Bruce commented without taking his eyes off the microscope. "From my experience, if he actually doesn't want to deal with something, but is still involved, it probably means he's looking for a little fun."

"The question lies in which part of the Summer Killer case is considered a game?" Lex held his forehead and said, "I can't help but feel that we've gone off course in our thinking. If we interpret it from Professor Shearer's behavioural logic, it would suggest that there must be something simple that we've overlooked. What could it be?"

Bruce finally looked up. He drifted off in thought and said: "We've investigated every aspect of this case. The autopsy report hasn't been overlooked, there's nothing peculiar about where the victims' paths intersect, the survivors' accounts have no discrepancies, and nothing suspicious has ever been exhibited by any of the innocent parties involved."

With furrowed eyebrows, Bruce was deep in thought. He truly had done his best to investigate all his suspicions. Given Batman's sceptical nature, he had basically scrutinised everything.

Yet, despite this, they still hadn't uncovered any trace of the Summer Killer. Bruce couldn't help but wonder, could it be the work of a Batman from another cosmos?

There was no good news from further research in the laboratory either, but Bruce was forced to leave. Selina had called to tell him that Aisha had returned and was looking for her dad. Bruce had no choice but to put murder and deduction aside to go and play with Aisha.

When Bruce pushed open the doors of Wayne Manor, Alfred was busy using a lint roller to remove dog hair from Aisha. At a glance, Bruce recognised it as the fur of Little Kryptonite. He immediately scooped Aisha up and asked her, "Did you go and play with Clark's dog?"

Aisha nodded her head. She hugged Bruce's neck, making a humming sound, then said, "I went to play in the garden. Dad, they don't let me go, you take me!"

Bruce held Aisha a bit higher, in order to encourage her to speak, he deliberately asked her, "Why won't they let you go to the garden?"

"They are reconstructing the garden. It's dangerous. They just won't let me, no one can go, only playing with building blocks in the living room."

"Who else wasn't allowed to go besides you?"

"Barry and Halley." Aisha lay on Bruce's shoulder and waved to Alfred in the living room, saying: "I want to play in the sandpit, build castles, and dig holes."

Bruce carried Aisha towards the garden. By the time he arrived, Selina was already waiting. She took Aisha from Bruce, lovingly rubbed her forehead with her cheek and said, "I missed you, my little darling. Your Aunt Maggie has made you a beautiful hair tie. Have a look, do you like it?"

Selina took out a shiny hair tie decorated with small diamond-encrusted balls. Bruce was about to object, not wanting Aisha to play with something she might swallow. But seeing the bat insignia on it, he held his tongue.

Aisha, fortunately, was not interested in eating the hair tie. She squealed joyfully and snatched it from Selina's hand to wear it on her wrist, happily waving it around to show it off.

"Do you want to swing or play in the sand?" Selina jiggled Aisha and asked.

"She wants to play in the sandpit." Bruce answered for Aisha. The family of three then headed towards the newly created sandpit in the back garden of Wayne Manor.

Before they could reach the spot, Aisha dashed ahead and jumped into the sandpit. Selina picked up the little shovel and bucket that Aisha had left there earlier and started building castles with her.

Bruce walked in too, only to have Aisha stretch out her short arms and hand him the small plastic bucket, shouting, "Water! Water! Faster with water!"

"She might be wanting to wet the sand. Is there a hose or something nearby?" Selina asked, squatting on the ground and looking back.

Bruce looked around but found no garden hose. He knew Alfred wouldn't water the plants unmethodically and would wait for the professional gardeners to arrange it. The hose must've been kept away in the storage.

The storehouse with a faucet was far from here, and Aisha's patience obviously wouldn't last that long. But as Bruce looked around, he saw a small puddle on the other side of the sandpit.

Alfred had kept the grounds quite clean, so the puddle was not dirty. Aisha was no ordinary child, so there was no worry about the water being contaminated. Without any other options, Bruce picked up the bucket and strided over, intending to scoop some water from the puddle for Aisha to play with.

But Aisha, her curiosity piqued, got there before him. She wanted to touch the water with her hand. Selina cried out in alarm behind them, and Bruce wanted to deter her as well, but Aisha's hand stopped just before touching the surface of the water.

"What's that?" Aisha squatted beside it and leaned forward, pointing at something in the water and asking.

Bruce bent down to take a look, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Those are mosquito larvae."

"What are mosquito larvae?" Aisha and Selina asked in unison.

"They are the larvae of mosquitoes..."

"What's a mosquito?"

Suddenly, a lightbulb seemed to go off in Bruce's head. All the clues came together in his mind, and he blurted out.

"A mosquito is... the Summer Killer!"