Chapter 602

"Alright, no more jokes. Tell me, why did you bring him here? I assume, even if you hadn't given him to me, he'd have plenty of better options—Selina would understand him well, and Alfred would adore him too." Alfred lay on the hospital bed, staring into Bruce's eyes.

Bruce gave a subtle glance; Siegel waved at Merkel, who walked over, pulled the curtains shut, stepped out, closed the door behind him, and waited outside to ensure no one passed by.

"Could there be any connection between the owl in the Dream of a Thousand Cats and the owl in the real world?" Bruce posed a crucial question.

Hearing this, Siegel frowned. Owls had vanished from his life for a long time—those fools either got dragged onto the stage to kill each other, or got trapped underground, drowning in their own filth. Nothing worth paying attention to anymore.

At that moment, the Bat-Cat let out a sharp cry. Siegel understood him: "Are there owls in the real world too?"

Bruce briefly explained the Court of Owls to him. The Bat-Cat shook his head. "If what you say is true—that they're just wealthy merchants secretly controlling this city—then they're nothing like the owls in my city…"

"You've seen it yourselves. The owls in Cat-Town Gotham wield terrifying dark energy. Honestly, without you, my stage alone might not have fully eradicated that power."

"If you don't eliminate them completely in one go, they'll return soon." This Bat-Cat displayed far more maturity than Bruce—he had no qualms admitting his own weakness or acknowledging genuine difficulty.

Yet his tone remained calm, free of worry or pessimism. After all, for Batman, nothing could be worse than hiding in the sewers disguised as the Joker.

"Magic owls… wait… Dark Owl Priests." Bruce suddenly remembered something. "Do you recall earlier? I was tracking that ghost mother named Laurentina."

Siegel thought back briefly and recalled what Bruce meant. At the time, several murders had occurred, resembling a serial killing case—each one worse than the last, as if copying the previous one poorly.

Behind this obvious trail lay a hidden one: the Dark Owl Priests had made a pact with Laurentina, the ghost mother, who sacrificed children's souls through candy. Behind it all, the Dark Owl Priests were pulling the strings.

While investigating, Batman had uncovered traces of these dark priests in the Wayne family's history.

Moreover, they had speculated that Siegel's umbrella might have been crafted by the Dark Owl Priests—after all, if they were merely wealthy merchants, they wouldn't possess mystical means to create an umbrella specifically designed to withstand Gotham's rain.

As these details returned to him, Siegel looked at Bruce. "You suspect the Dark Owl Priests from the real world have invaded the dream?"

"Exactly. Something's off. If this were merely a racial conflict between cats and birds, the origin of that dark energy remains unexplainable."

"The cat race, which dominates the entire world, has developed no mystical attributes. Yet the owls, holed up in a corner, command such immense power—it makes no sense."

Siegel pondered aloud: "It seems the entire city is flawed. Even if the cats' dream contains Gotham, it shouldn't correspond so precisely to every single one of you."

"Even the detail of Victor's wife being frozen has been replicated. If this were truly a cat's dream, could they even comprehend what it means to freeze one's spouse?"

As his thoughts deepened, Siegel noticed more inconsistencies.

Cat-Town Gotham appeared like a surreal cartoon city. Under that art style, many would only marvel at the wonder and cuteness of the cats' dream. But once removed from the dream, many things grew strange.

The Dream of a Thousand Cats was a dream made by cats—so everything within it should reflect the feline worldview. Humans struggle to understand how cats think, and vice versa. Two entirely different species cannot share a common worldview.

What humans perceive as a city and its citizens might be utterly alien to cats. A housecat might see a kitchen cabinet as a city; a stray might regard a puddle as a river. How, then, could a dream truly made by cats contain a city so perfectly aligned with the human worldview?

Worse still—in the feline worldview, there's a character like Mr. Freeze, devoted to an unyielding love. That's impossible. Feline mating is purely instinctual; there's no such thing as love, let alone tragic, soul-deep stories.

Even Selina's dream, if it were truly feline, would likely be more wildly imaginative. The idea that cats in Gotham dream of an entire human-style Gotham city? It's riddled with flaws.

This seems more like a human-created cartoon, made by someone living in the human world, projecting human worldview onto cats.

Such plots are common in many animated films—projecting human perspectives onto animals, expressing ideas more gently and cutely. But if animals truly dreamed, they wouldn't dream this way. It's all fantasy rooted in human society.

"Actually, I've been wondering…" Siegel idly picked up the Bat-Cat and scratched its neck. "Was it accidental that the Dream of a Thousand Cats suddenly dragged me into its dream?"

"Dream Lord Morpheus had no reason to lie. If he deliberately attacked me, he'd have laughed loudly. But his reaction suggested even he was surprised by the Dream of a Thousand Cats' sudden action. That's suspicious."

"Dream Lord has strong control over dreams and understands the Dream of a Thousand Cats better than anyone. He dismissed it as a kitten's prank. But we can't afford to think that way."

"Undoubtedly, the Dream of a Thousand Cats is powerful. If something has invaded it, they must intend to use such immense power for something…"

"Do you remember that legend?" Siegel asked himself. "The Earth was once ruled by cats. The Dream of a Thousand Men covered reality, and cats have always sought to rewrite reality through the Dream of a Thousand Cats."

"If someone controls the Dream of a Thousand Cats, they might use its contents to overwrite reality once more."

Bruce's expression turned grave. "So they first created Cat-Town Gotham in the dream, thoroughly reshaped it, planted puppets, hidden agents—and once they seize the Dream of a Thousand Cats, they'll use this dream to overwrite reality, and Gotham will fall into their hands…"

At this, Bruce could no longer sit still. "Professor, I gave you this cat precisely so we can split up. I'll investigate the Dark Owl Priests in the real world; the Bat-Cat can trace their traces within the dream."

"After all, if the Bat-Cat dreams again, he'll return to the Dream of a Thousand Cats—he's a cat now, so he can move freely between real-world Gotham and dream-world Gotham."

"But I don't understand dreams well, so I leave it to you. If he runs into trouble in the dream, you can still sail out and bring him back."

Siegel paused. He didn't care whether those damn owls wanted to destroy the world. The key point was—they had once sold him an umbrella destined to break.

And now, the umbrella he held might break at any moment. If he could obtain their umbrella-making technique, he could repair his own umbrellas in the future.

Siegel stroked his chin, gazing at the Bat-Cat in his arms. "Alright. I've never owned a pet, but I can try."

"How hard can it be to raise a cat?"

As Siegel spoke, Bruce, who had already risen and left, wore a complex expression on his face—clearly thinking of some gem enthusiast.

An hour later, Siegel stood beneath the chandelier in his manor's grand hall, looking up at the black cat on it. "Get down here!"

The black cat ignored him, swaying the chandelier back and forth like a swing. When it reached its peak, he leapt out with a "whoosh," extended his claws, and dug into the oil painting on the opposite wall, producing a piercing "screech."

Siegel covered his ears. After slashing the painting, the Bat-Cat slipped into the narrow space behind the frame and retrieved a key.

He carried the key in his mouth, returned to the chandelier, and now swung side to side. At the peak, he leapt onto the second-floor railing, then to the doorframe, unlocked the door with the key, stood at the threshold, and meowed: "Thirty-five rooms… this one has the best strategic position. I claim it."

"Merkel! Throw him out!" Siegel pointed to the door.

Merkel, just entering with luggage, stared at the chandelier scattered with crystals, the ruined painting, and the deeply clawed door surface. He swallowed hard. "No, Owl, you can't take that room—it's Mr. Wayne's designated guest room. He said it has the best strategic position…"

The Bat-Cat let out another loud cry and began scratching the door. The claws first scraped the paint, producing a grating sound, then the sharp, splintering noise of wood being gouged.

In a flash, Siegel vanished. The Bat-Cat leapt backward, evading Siegel's sudden grab. Then, in three quick bounds, he reached the windowsill, ran along it to the balcony, and leapt from one room's balcony to another's.

Siegel flashed again—this time, he caught the Bat-Cat. But his grip was wrong. The flexible feline twisted its body violently and slipped free.

The Bat-Cat surveyed the room. "Since the other me already claimed that room, this one's strategic position isn't bad either. I like the decor. I'll take this one."

"Heaven Descends"

He turned—and saw Siegel staring coldly at him.

"... This is my room."