Chapter 2181: Battle of the Two Cities! (Part 59)

Batman arrived in the kitchen. Although he knew Alfred didn't need him to carry plates, if he kept standing there awkwardly, the Robins would expose the fact that he had been hiding in his room reading Sherlock Holmes.

He stood by the kitchen doorway. Martha had just lifted her foot to step over the threshold, and when she turned, she nearly collided with him.

Batman was extremely tall, even taller than Thomas. When he stood there straight and still, he was like an insurmountable high wall. Martha was given a great fright when she bumped into him.

"Goodness, Bruce." The elegantly poised lady took a few steps back to steady herself. She looked Bruce up and down, then looked into his eyes and asked, "What are you doing here? Dinner is almost ready; I think you could go to the dining table and talk with the children for a while longer."

"I think Thomas needs to ask them about their studies."

"Oh, come on." Martha sighed and said, "Don't let him do that, Bruce. Pre-dinner conversation should be pleasant; you need to shield the children from the pressure."

Batman looked back at the dining room.

At this moment, Jason was flipping over a square tray, using the area outlined by the base as a soccer field to explain to the three Robins opposite him how he had lost that match.

Bruce had already circled around to the side of the three Robins and was arguing with Nightwing about the referee.

"I will definitely take good care of the referee before Friday. I'll let those brats understand what true hospitality is," he said, his tone intense.

"That isn't fair, Bruce. Just because their referee blew a biased whistle, you can't have the referee from Jason's school blow a biased whistle too. It would never end." Nightwing emphasized, "The children want a fair game."

"But they were the ones who abandoned fairness first. Can you imagine how disappointed Jason's team is? They trained hard for three months, and then those people ruined everything with unfair officiating. We must make them taste disappointment so they can understand the importance of fairness."

"Well said!" Damian slammed his hand on the table. "That's exactly what we should do. Why should we let them have their way?!"

Thomas's gaze swept over. Damian covered his mouth with his fist, coughed twice, shrugged, and said, "Besides, it's not like we're going to beat them up. We're just doing what they did, so why is that not allowed?"

"You still want to beat them up?!"

Red Robin rubbed his chin and thought, "I don't think it's that simple. Could it be that parents are instigating it? Like moving business grudges onto the soccer field or something."

"That's completely a conspiracy theory." Dick shook his head and said, "If you're going to play soccer, just play soccer. Why get into all this messy stuff?"

Red Hood leaned over the imaginary soccer field again and pointed, saying, "Listen to me, play it like this. If I were you... wait a second, I am you. I mean, you should play as a winger; that's their weak spot..."

Then they began to study tactics, discussing how to end this performance with a perfect winning goal under the referee's blessing. Although Thomas was still looking at his newspaper, Batman knew he was listening very intently, to the point where he couldn't find an opportunity to interject and ask about Dick's homework.

"Bruce!!!"

Batman heard Thomas's call; it was clearly directed at him. Martha waved her hand at him, telling him to hurry over, and said, "Tie your napkin before the food is served. Go on."

Batman had no choice but to walk back to the dining table.

As soon as he walked back, there was dead silence.

"How is the food coming along?" Thomas asked.

"It's almost ready." Batman walked back to his seat and sat down, tying his napkin with lightning speed.

Not a single person at the entire table could see his movements clearly; in any case, the napkin appeared at his collar as if by magic.

Besides, no one expected to see Batman craning his neck and holding up both hands, struggling to tie a napkin. They all fell silent.

Thomas was still reading the newspaper, but Batman knew he hadn't taken in a single word. When he returned, the children's tactical discussion was at its peak. Damian was just about to reveal his final trump card, and Thomas looked like he really wanted to hear it, but now everything was gone.

The Robins all sat up straight, leaning against their chair backs, silently staring at the plates in front of them. The only difference from being in prison was that in jail, at least you'd know your sentence.

Dead silence.

"Are you not tying your napkins?" Batman asked, turning his head slightly.

The children became visibly tense. Clearly, their brains were racing, wondering if Batman was accusing them of not tying their napkins, reminding them that they shouldn't be tying them, or demanding they tie them in a certain way.

Nightwing tentatively reached for the napkin on the table. Red Robin took the opportunity to carefully observe Batman's expression, found no change, and gave Red Hood a look. Thus, the three of them tied their napkins as quickly as possible and resumed their previous posture.

When Martha came over with a tray, what she saw was a row of older Robins sitting in "prison" in perfect unison, while Bruce stood behind Dick's chair tying his napkin for him.

"How much longer are you going to tie it?" Dick reached out a hand to rub his sore neck and shoulder muscles, looking down but glancing back at Bruce, who was tying the knot behind him. "You look like you're performing a major surgery."

"Talk less, Dick. Tying a knot isn't that hard; I'm trying my best."

"The probability of failure is high." Jason helped Martha straighten the plates and said, "You'd better stop trying. If you tie it into a dead knot, it'll be a disaster."

Tim chuckled, as if he had already imagined Dick sleeping while wearing that thing. Jason turned his head again and said, "Don't you laugh either; you can't even tie your shoelaces."

"Stay polite, Jason." Thomas reminded him, "Offending everyone before eating might lead to more pillow attacks at the pajama party later."

Bruce finally gave up. Martha took over his work, very carefully tying the napkins for each of the children one by one.

"Taking care of the children is your job, not ours." Thomas's tone contained a hint of anger. He looked at Batman and said, "Standing there, standing here, sitting there, sitting here—is this all your work?"

Batman was a bit stunned by the scolding. Yes, this was indeed being scolded. Batman understood Thomas; he had once been the young master of the Wayne family and wouldn't resort to shrewish ranting. This was already his state of scolding someone.

So Batman stood up again. He scanned the room and found that Damian hadn't tied his napkin yet, so he walked toward Damian.

Damian was scared to death.

"Uh, that, I can tie it, I can do it myself, I..."

Batman picked up the napkin and, without a word, put it around his neck, tying a perfect slipknot.

After Damian realized what happened, he reached up and tugged at the napkin, which was neither too loose nor too tight, and made a terrified face at Tim next to him.

In fact, everyone could see his nervousness. The moment Batman strode over, everyone around his destination felt their hearts jump into their throats.

It wasn't that they thought Batman would actually do anything bad to them, but for a long time, Batman had built himself into a source of fear. Even if he wasn't Batman, the presence he exuded made him look like a terrifying lion; no one could ignore such a beast walking toward them.

They would instinctively feel fear and trembling, triggering a survival instinct to want to run away. And when the other party made contact with them, they would go stiff, unable to move, looking like chickens about to be slaughtered or fish on a cutting board.

"I really don't know how you manage to make your own biological son look like a mouse seeing a cat when he sees you." Thomas sighed while picking up his knife and fork. "People always make choices between career and family, and you used your excellent talent to carve out another unique path—each one worse than the last."

Batman was speechless.

When he was busy being Batman, those endless troubles filled his entire life, so he could use that as an excuse to explain the various problems in the Bat-family.

"It's not that I can't handle the relationships between family members; it's just that I'm too busy. When the turtle in the wishing well takes up all my time, it's understandable that various family trifles accumulate into conflicts."

Batman had never expected that he would be forced to return to family life one day. But once he became an idler, he discovered that what he was facing wasn't just simple family conflicts; there was no place for him in this home.

Batman, who had once longed for his parents' return, didn't enjoy any family affection after they truly returned. Apart from the initial joy of recovery, Batman only felt the awkwardness of being at a loss.

When the Bat-family with Robins was a combat team, Batman was their leader. But when they truly became a family, Batman had nowhere to go.

Ultimately, he couldn't be a child anymore, and he couldn't completely become a father.

To enjoy family affection from parents, one must be a child—sometimes fragile, sometimes willful, expressing one's true self, and then waiting for the parents' care and help.

To enjoy family affection from children, one must be like a father. Besides supervising and urging them, one must also take care of them, care for them, and stand behind them with a firm, emotional, and even unreasonable stance to give them a sense of security.

These were things Batman couldn't do.

He couldn't do them before, and it wasn't a big problem because most people couldn't tell, and those who could wouldn't hold it against him. After all, saving the world was indeed a great goal, and personal matters could temporarily give way to it.

But now it wouldn't work, Batman thought. He stared at Bruce sitting opposite him and thought, if all the Batmen in the universe were sick, then he wasn't abnormal either.

But it just so happened that there was a "grind-king" here who had actually cured himself at a young age. Being normally abnormal made him seem too abnormal.

But soon he discovered that things were much more serious than he had imagined, because after dinner, Bruce brought back another Bruce—a similarly young Bruce, but one who was sad, exhausted, and haggard.

"God!!!"

Martha screamed and ran toward that Bruce. She hugged him, and after letting go, she cupped his face, staring at those somewhat unfocused gray-blue eyes and shouting.

"Bruce! Bruce, what's wrong with you?! Alfred, call a doctor, call a doctor quickly!!!" ===== CHAPTER 2182 =====