Chapter 3487: Research on Cats and Dogs (Part 46)

The house Diana rented was not far from the Metropolis Museum of Art, about two streets away; it was a two-story building. Downstairs was a flower shop, and upstairs was her studio and apartment.

This street was a famous artists' street; many painters, sculptors, and spray-paint art enthusiasts liked to rent houses here, mostly in the model of a storefront on the first floor and a studio and living quarters on the second. Diana's house was no exception.

However, the difference was that she didn't engage in art creation but was an art critic. At the same time, as an Amazon princess, her apartment was also used to receive people from all walks of life, so it was quite spacious, and the decoration was full of Amazonian wildness.

The house was built entirely of raw wood, with wooden floors and walls. The decorative patterns didn't use soft vines but mostly rough tree bark textures, vibrant branches and leaves, and animal fur. The soft furnishings were even more natural and primitive, and the sofa was made from an entire bear skin.

As soon as Bruce entered the door, he threw himself into the large sofa in the reception room, spread his hands, and let out a long sigh.

Clark looked at the newly added artwork on the entryway shelf, while Diana put down the bag in her hand and said, "There are drinks and snacks in the fridge; help yourselves. If you're tired, go to the guest room to sleep for a while, but you are absolutely not allowed to go into my study—if my manuscript goes missing, I'll throw you all into Hephaestus's furnace!"

Clark yawned and said, "I am a little tired. Lex has a large amount of Kryptonite hoarded there; I feel uncomfortable staying at his house. I'll go sleep for a while first."

Hearing this, Bruce sat up from the sofa with a "whoosh" and said, "How long are you going to sleep? I was hoping we could go out for dinner together tonight..."

"Don't worry, I'll just take a short nap," Clark looked at his watch. "It's only two o'clock in the afternoon." So he said, "About two and a half hours, we'll set off at 4:30, and we can avoid the evening rush hour."

"There's no evening rush hour," Diana said. "Didn't you see the news just now? The city government declared a state of emergency, and roads everywhere are under control. Cars can't get into the streets around here."

After saying this, she gathered her hair and sighed, saying, "I still have two manuscripts to finish; I estimate it will be past 5 o'clock before I can finish. Otherwise, you two can watch TV for a while, or go buy some pizza."

"We'll go buy it," Bruce said immediately. "Do you have any alcohol at home? Or should we buy some?"

"I have red wine and ice wine, but I don't think you're used to drinking those. However, when the emergency notice was issued earlier, I hoarded some fruit; you can buy some base liquor, and we can mix it ourselves."

Bruce cheered and went to the kitchen to check the inventory. Clark went back to sleep, and Diana went to work. However, both of them kept an ear and an eye on Bruce to prevent him from causing a big problem here.

Diana's house had a beautiful open kitchen. The cabinets were dark brown lacquered wood, paired with pristine white marble countertops, and Amazonian totem weavings hung on the walls. The place originally used as a wine cabinet was filled with all sorts of root carvings.

Bruce picked up a few root carvings to look at—although the shapes were peculiar, there was actually nothing special about them—and then he began to check the inventory.

Diana had hoarded a lot of lemons; fresh fruits included grapes and melons. In addition, there were raspberry jam and sour plum jam made during the season. Bruce quickly thought of a mixing method.

When he was bored before, Bruce had tried cooking. But unfortunately, he really had no talent in this area: his control over seasonings wasn't precise enough, and he always liked to have flashes of inspiration. The failed products were not only unpalatable but also had astonishing appearances—a high-EQ way of saying it is that even Aisha shook her head when she saw them, and if placed on the ground, they should be able to summon Brand.

However, because Selina liked sweets, Bruce tried baking a few times. He actually had some talent in this area, but it was mainly because the baking system was relatively mature, and the grams of various powders were very precise; one just needed to follow the recipe. Wayne Manor was fully equipped with all kinds of machines, so there was really no room for failure.

Of course, his desserts were barely edible. If one really wanted to talk about kitchen work he was good at, it had to be bartending.

In the United States, this wasn't a niche hobby, and it didn't just refer to mixing cocktails in bars; what was more popular was mixing party drinks. If you could be responsible for the drinks at a party, you were definitely the coolest and most popular person in the whole school.

Mixing party drinks actually didn't require any skills, but precisely because it was simple, it wasn't easy to mix well: it couldn't be too intoxicating, making people vomit after two sips, nor could it have no feeling at all, tasting like fruit juice; one must grasp that sense of subtle tipsiness. Every party boy or party girl definitely knew a bartending master.

As for why Bruce hadn't discovered this talent of his before? It was because he had no reference—which Batman in the entire multiverse would go to mix party drinks?

Even he only tried it once when the Robins were going to attend a school party, and after receiving widespread praise from their classmates, he discovered this advantage of his.

After that, Bruce utilized this advantage and contracted the mixing of party drinks for all his acquaintances. He was best at fruit wine, especially tropical flavors mixed with various plum flavors, which could be said to have received rave reviews.

Bruce thought for a moment and felt that the materials in Diana's house weren't very complete, but it was enough to mix plum wine; it was just that if he used jam, the texture might not be as good as fresh fruit.

However, he still placed the raw materials on the island counter, began to calculate the weight of the ingredients, and prepared the pots and pans he would need.

He was busy clattering in the kitchen, while Diana was pounding on the keyboard in her study. Her work wasn't as easy as it looked on the surface: she had to provide articles to major art magazines and newspapers at fixed times and locations. Because of the Justice League's affairs, she had already delayed a lot of work and had to hurry to finish the manuscript.

Diana's study was elegantly arranged, still with all-wood furniture. The bookshelves were nailed together with oddly shaped wooden boards, and the window frames and sills were also uneven, looking very interesting.

More importantly, a large number of green plants were kept here—whether on the shelves, desktops, window sills, or beside the chairs, green leafy plants were piled up. Many were brought back from the Amazon, and she specifically asked Pamela to help them adapt to the climate here, so they grew lush and green.

Ding-a-ling.

Diana picked up the phone beside her without looking: "Hello, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Your Highness. I just read the manuscript you sent over; there are a few places that need adjustment. Jackson, who does modern art, previously published some... in short, remarks unfavorable to the Democratic Party, and our investors are very dissatisfied, so we need to adjust the evaluation of him..."

Diana on this end of the phone frowned slightly. She switched the phone to the other hand, opened her mouth to say something, but finally said, "I won't maliciously smear him, but I will make my wording a little softer. I'll send it to you after I adjust it."

Hanging up the phone, Diana sighed. The job of an art critic wasn't so easy to do; one always had to adjust one's tone according to the real-time wind direction—to be honest, being truthful here wasn't a virtue, but the rope for hanging oneself. Even though she could already be called an authority in the industry, sometimes she still had to bow to reality.

But adjusting wasn't so easy either. Diana had to praise him not too obviously while maintaining objectivity as much as possible, which was a test of wording level.

She was too focused, so she didn't hear Bruce calling her.

"Diana? Diana? Ms. Diana? Respected Amazon Princess?... Daisy!!!!"

"SHUT UP!!!"

Listening to the roar coming from the study, Bruce helplessly curled his lips and whispered, "The ice maker in your fridge isn't efficient enough at all; we have to go out to buy ice. If you don't make a sound, I'll take it as you agreeing to me going out..."

After saying this, he sneakily looked at the guest room again. Clark was clearly already fast asleep, and in his dream, a regiment of Kryptonite-steel-toothed puppies was chasing him.

Seeing that neither of them moved, Bruce took the shopping bag and went out. Only after he was out of the door did he react: he wasn't in prison, why was he being so sneaky?

So he walked downstairs swaggeringly, looked left and right at the empty street, took out his phone to check the address of the nearest convenience store, and then walked towards it.

Clark slept until five in the afternoon, and when he woke up, it was almost dark. He stretched and walked out of the room, eyes bleary, and didn't see Bruce's figure in the living room.

He came to the door of Diana's study and knocked. Diana responded, and Clark pushed the door open and went in.

Diana had also fallen asleep, sleeping on the computer keyboard, which caused her face to be covered in keyboard imprints. Clark laughed immediately; Diana was still a bit dazed, not knowing what he was laughing at.

Looking in the mirror, Diana laughed too. She rubbed her face but didn't use divine power to recover; she just stood up and stretched. The two walked out of the study together.

Just after walking out of the study, Diana found something was wrong:

"Where's Bruce?"

"I don't know, I thought he was with you," Clark scratched his head and said. "He must have gone downstairs to buy something, right? I guess he'll be back in a while."

"Really?" Diana was skeptical. She took out her phone to check and found no text messages or missed calls, thinking that if something really happened, Bruce would definitely call them.

Clark opened his phone to prepare to order takeout. The two studied the menu for half a day, and the takeout was ordered, but Bruce still hadn't returned.

So they sent Bruce a text message and then called, but the text message didn't show as read, and the call couldn't get through. Only then did the two realize that something might have happened.

Clark thought for a moment and then opened the Battleworld interface. Sure enough, his private messages were full of Bruce's howling:

"I've been kidnapped again, damn it!"

"Come save me, come save me, come save me!"

"He got a black Honda and stuffed me in without a word. He has some kind of equipment that can completely block vision—I can't see anything, and I don't know where he took me, but judging by the time, I shouldn't have left Metropolis too far..."

"Did you receive my message? Hurry up and save me. This guy is very likely your compatriot—I feel like the way he looks at me is not quite right..."

"Good heavens, can't he understand human language?... I said I'm not Batman, not Batman, he insists I'm Batman! And wants me to hand over the Kryptonite I collected!"

"I swear, making the phone already used up all my Kryptonite, Clark, you must believe me..."

"Damn it, this bastard actually laid a hand on me! Very well, he has successfully angered me, I'll make him look good right now!"

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 3488 =====