Chapter 607

In the Wayne Manor library, Bruce once again piled books all over the table, while Dick continued to carry a ladder taller than himself, searching among the shelves.

After the ladder scraped against the bookshelf with a "click," Dick exclaimed, "Oh! There's another book—I never noticed it before!"

He pulled out a very worn book from between two shelves, lifted it, slapped off the dust, blew on the cover, and opened the first page.

Then he ran to Bruce with the book and said, "Mr. Wayne, look at this—this book is strange."

Bruce took the book, opened it, and found it described local nursery rhymes circulating in Gotham.

Every city has its own folk tunes; Gotham may not be ancient, but its history is extremely complex, giving rise to a unique musical atmosphere. Though in modern times Gotham's dominant music market is gangsta rap, there was a period when divine melodies and nursery rhymes were widely known.

This book listed the melodies of various nursery rhymes, their lyrics, and the stories behind those lyrics.

Most nursery rhymes worldwide have simple lyrics—just two or three lines repeated over and over—to help children remember the core content.

But one rhyme in this book was exceptionally unusual: "Owl Court, watching your every move…"

Yes, the name of this rhyme was "Owl Court, Watching Your Every Move"—its title alone was so long that its content was self-evident.

Every line of this rhyme was different, with no repetition at all; singing it from start to finish was harder than reciting poetry.

Yet this book recorded that this rhyme had once been the most widely known nursery rhyme in Gotham, sung by nearly every child.

Bruce stared at the text and seemed to see children in Gotham's rainy alleyways singing, "Owl Court… watching your every move…" while behind them, countless owl eyes glowed in the dark.

Bruce sharply sensed something wrong here, but he still looked at Dick and handed the book back to him. "Can you sing this rhyme?" he asked.

Dick took the book, frowned at the long string of lyrics, and said, "I'll try."

He then stared intently at the book for nearly twenty minutes before reluctantly singing it out—haltingly, with several pauses in between.

Beyond the complex lyrics, the melody was also awkward. Most people know nursery rhymes are pitched higher than regular songs because, before voice change, both boys and girls naturally have higher voices; melodies too high for adults suit children perfectly.

But this song's pitch was extremely low—even though Dick's voice change was nearly complete, singing it still strained him. Even an ordinary adult would struggle to hit such a low tone.

After spending time with him, Bruce felt he understood Dick well—he was a very smart child who learned quickly. Yet after twenty minutes of focused effort, he could barely master this nursery rhyme. What about other children in Gotham?

They had no patience to learn a song; when survival was the issue, no one devoted themselves to art.

Yet this book recorded that for a long time, this rhyme was wildly popular among Gotham's children—an extremely odd thing. How could such a difficult song be passed mouth-to-mouth, as if naturally evolving?

Bruce thought deeper: perhaps Gotham's darkness was not as simple as it appeared.

Some force had been influencing the people here since childhood; darkness had shaped them, and the city built by these darkened individuals became known as Gotham.

Realizing the rhyme might be suspicious, Bruce began searching for more books on Gotham's artistic history—and as he searched, his gaze expanded to all cities along the East Coast.

The most important city on the East Coast was Metropolis, whose historical records far outnumbered Gotham's. Bruce had only intended to glance at Metropolis's history, but he suddenly noticed that a book describing its customs also recorded a nursery rhyme.

This rhyme mentioned no owls or darkness, but both rhymes shared one trait: their melodies were unpleasant and hard to learn, their lyrics complex, yet both had been widely sung in their time.

Bruce suddenly realized the enemy he faced might not be limited to Gotham's darkness—when he was still unaware, still naive, this vast entity's roots had already spread across the entire nation.

Realizing Metropolis might also harbor traces of the Owls, Bruce immediately went to find Shiler.

Because his manor had been blown up, Shiler had returned to reside at Gotham University; repairs would take time, and during this period, he either worked in Victor's lab helping adjust his wife's condition, or wrote papers in the library.