Chapter 2214: Battle of the Twin Cities! (55)_1

At the end of the corridor, the towering Gothic window overlooked a warm sunset that cast a sharp sword-like reflection onto the floor and colored the walls with a dull yellow. The slender branches from the garden stretched in, their rustling reminiscent of a long-lost summer's day.

The slow, ominous footfall drew closer and Dick, who had been hunched over his desk writing furiously, sat upright and pricked up his ears.

Like a startled hare, he spun around quickly. His face of anticipation and excitement disappeared as soon as the door was pushed open.

"Bruce... uh, Batman, what's up?"

The Bruce standing outside the door was not in his casual attire, not the young Bruce Dick had known, but the true owner of Wayne Manor in Gotham, Batman himself.

"Have you finished your homework?" It wasn't a question, but a statement as if to imply, "Theoretically, you should be done by now".

"Um..." Dick twisted his body back and after stretching the sound a bit replied, "I am a bit short, about half of my sentence paraphrase is left."

But when he turned around, Batman was already silently standing behind him. Dick, slightly puzzled, looked up at him and asked, "When did you return? Finished your work?"

Batman didn't respond, instead he sat on the edge of the bed next to Dick's desk, "If I recall correctly, you have 30 words to learn today, Thomas is going to check later."

"I learned them all!" Dick stood up, bent down to find his vocabulary book on the bookshelf, flapped it for a while, and began to look for it in the drawers below.

Batman slightly furrowed his brow, unable to bear the sight of the heap of textbooks and books inside the drawer. After searching for tens of seconds, Dick finally dug out his wordbook.

He turned the wordbook's pages to the day's lesson, handing it to Batman while flopping back into the chair, his arm around his chest and propped up chin giving a look of indifference. "Ask away."

Prior to this, Dick decided to clear up his doubts first, so he asked, "What's the reason for your visit? I've been on the Sky Island all the time, I didn't even go down, what happened below has nothing to do with me."

Dick apparently assumed that Batman was here to question him again, but Batman just sat there, elbows on his knees, flipping through the wordbook, and asked, "You're about to start high school, right? Which university do you want to go to?"

Dick felt restless, not because of the questions Batman asked, but because he still had no idea what Batman was up to. In the end, he could only give a vague answer. "I don't know, Thomas probably has it all arranged."

The good news was that Batman finally moved his gaze away from the wordbook, but the bad news was that he started to stare at Dick.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?"

Dick rubbed his arms and grinned, "Okay, I know it's impolite to say this, but if you keep staying here, I really won't be able to finish my homework."

"Would the Bruce Wayne you know, help you with your homework?"

Although Batman seemed to be asking casually rather than expecting a real answer, after careful thought, Dick replied.

"He tried, but then he discovered it wasn't good for either of us, so he stopped. I also don't need him to stay with me."

Batman looked down at Dick's wordbook again, understanding why Dick said it wasn't good for either of them, because Dick's way of organizing his vocabulary book was an OCD nightmare.

Words weren't listed in alphabetical order, some words were separated by one line, some by two lines. Even some words would show up on the previous page one second and then be noted again on the next page the very next second.

A vocabulary book with a very innovative arrangement.

That's how Batman commented and closed Dick's book and then handed it back to him.

Dick slowly took the book with his eyes still locked on Batman's face, trying to figure out why he came. He failed.

"How much longer for your sentence paraphrasing?"

Dick glanced at the work notebook on his desk and said, "About five paragraphs left."

Batman leaned forward slightly so he could see Dick's notebook on the table more clearly. The paraphrasing consists of ten sentences, some of which even contained long, complex French sentences, indicating Dick had really improved in his French.

Batman asked in French, "Are there any parts you don't understand?"

"It's okay, the subject isn't too difficult," Dick instinctively replied in French, then, with widened eyes, watched Batman.

"My God, your spoken French is too good," exclaimed Dick in French, "You speak better than my French teacher!"

Batman was used to such compliments, though slightly surprised by the degree of Dick's French fluency, considering Dick had only been learning for just over a year.

He shifted his attention back to Dick's homework. The paraphrasing of the first few sentences didn't have any big problems. But Dick was wriggling and squirming in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with Batman being there.

Batman stood up and started to walk back while patting the back of Dick's chair lightly, saying "Thomas will be back at five, make sure you finish your homework before that, so both of you can have a peaceful night."

Dick quietly nodded at Batman, watching until Batman left the room. He quickly closed his workbook and rummaged for his phone from the bottom drawer. Like a thief, he glanced in the direction of the door while dialling, then covered the mouthpiece and whispered into it.

"You have no idea what just happened, Jason! Batman came to me, can you quickly ask Tim what's going on? ...God! It's only 4:30!"

"New City, Bronx, 4:30pm.

Boom!

A yellow and black figure flew out, crashing heavily into the rubble. Several lasers immediately zoomed over.

A cloud of smoke arose, the figure vanished, but the laser attack continued for several minutes; it only faded gradually when every bit of the rubble had been thoroughly disintegrated.

Behind the remaining ruins of a nearby building, Deathstroke took in a sharp breath as he looked at the empty ground that seemed to have been wiped clean, and then looked up at the sky and said, "Don't tell me aliens are invading?"

"Aliens invade every day," said Deadpool, smacking his lips. "But these guys are really going all out…"

"That means they're not just any aliens."

BOOM!!!!!!

Another missile landed barely ahead of Deathstroke and Deadpool in the street. The duo immediately turned and ran, spotting a heavily armed squad of robots marching towards them equipped with plasma cannons and machine guns.

The robots instantly noticed the fleeing pair. There was a flash of light from their power boots, and the whole team took to the air, chasing after them at high speed.

"Think quick, cousin, or we're really gonna be dead!"

"First, let's find a safe place!" Deathstroke fired two shots back at the airborne robots, bullets hitting the armor without leaving even a scratch.

BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!

Zzzzz----Zzzzz----

Dodging the bombing and attacks, Deadpool turned around and saw more and more robot troops gathering at the skyline. He vaulted over the debris in front of him and yelled,

"We really should find a safe place… then contact Batman!!!"

No sooner had Jason hung up the phone than he heard Batman's footsteps. Like Dick, he quickly shoved the phone into a drawer and gave Batman, who was entering the room, a smile.

"Reading?" Batman asked with a nod.

Jason nodded and held up the open book on his desk for Batman to see. To Batman's surprise, the book was "Fall of Giants".

It was a novel that, while presenting from the perspective of five different youngsters, seemed more like a chronicle of the 20th century. Batman thought Jason might prefer theoretical books.

Just like Dick had warned, Jason began to take a careful look at Batman. It was indeed only 4:30 in the afternoon, some time before dark, which meant Batman would be preparing to go out and fight crime.

Normally, he would enter the Batcave after lunch and not return until the following morning. Sometimes, he would see him at breakfast the next day, sometimes not until noon.

Batman wasn't one to have an idle afternoon. Even when he was 'idle', he had more important things to do, particularly in situations like these, with the city below blazing with cannon fire.

Jason studied Batman closely but failed to detect any sense of urgency on his face. Jason knew why Dick had called him—because he expected Batman to visit him as well. Dick was counting on his expertise in psychology to figure out what Batman was going to do.

But Jason didn't understand.

This made Jason uneasy. He had initially assumed Batman to be a living coffin, as he never saw any emotions on him, which for a human was impossible.

But now, after scrutinizing him closely, he found Batman to be a real coffin, perhaps even a dead one, because he was as cold as a corpse.

With no emotional feedback, Jason was even more anxious than Dick. He generally got advantage out of reading others' subtle emotions. But that tactic was useless now; it felt like suddenly losing sight.

Batman was unguarded in front of him, but he could see nothing. Anyone faced with such a situation would be frantic. Jason couldn't believe he had survived so far in this universe.

"Um… What can I do for you?" Jason could only ask like this.

What else could you do when cornered by a lion, when you're not a spear-wielding hunter but just a half-blind snake?

"You haven't joined a club or anything, have you?" Batman asked, seating himself on the end of Jason's bed.

"I've joined the football and skating clubs. Neither takes place today, though. On Sunday, I am doing voluntary work on the nearby streets. On Wednesday afternoon, I need to return a book to school."

Jason decided to be honest and detailed with Batman. He hoped that the lion would be satisfied with his answers and leave soon. He couldn't bear to face the lion's predatory teeth for much longer.

"You play football?" Batman asked.

Jason sighed deeply and began, "Yes, I play, not professionally, though. I play mostly for fitness. Thomas and Martha had no objections."

"Played a match against a nearby middle school about a week ago. We sadly lost on their ground 2:3. I played as the striker, didn't score, no brilliant performance. After the match, had burgers with the team, got home by 7 and had a good sleep."

"Can you talk to me about this book?"

Jason wailed inwardly.