Chapter 756: Batman: Race Against Time (Part 2)

"Alright, Bruce, I know you've been down lately, but don't push yourself too hard—just relax for one night. Whatever work you have, it can wait until tomorrow."

Selina pulled up a chair and sat beside Bruce, placing her hand on his shoulder and blowing gently against his cheek. "We haven't seen each other in days—do you really have to be working right now?"

"Anxiety disorder symptom analysis… Didn't I already write this topic? I think it was last month's assignment… I miscalculated the word count—I'm looking at a sixty-thousand-word paper."

"What did you say?" Selina hadn't heard Bruce muttering. She sat up straight, her large eyes locking onto him, scanning him from head to toe, then lingering at his midsection.

Selina slowly crossed her arms, squinting. "Maggie told me—if a man suddenly loses interest in you, it means he's found someone new!"

"Bruce Wayne!" Selina slammed her hand on the table. "That's why you've been acting so weird lately—you cheating bastard!"

She let out a sharp exhale through her nose, stood up, and turned to leave—but after taking two steps, Bruce still hadn't moved.

Selina was furious. Normal couples who haven't seen each other for days spend at least two or three hours cuddling. And she'd gone out of her way to comfort him, worried he was under too much stress and his mental state was slipping—only to be ignored like a performance for a blind man.

Though Batman always kept a cold demeanor toward others, he was gentle with Catwoman. They each had their own lives, occasionally parted for stretches, but when they reunited, they were inseparable. Batman even sacrificed time hunting criminals just to date her—proof enough of how special she was to him.

But today, Selina was practically sitting in his lap—and Bruce remained utterly still, completely unmoved by her beauty.

"This is ridiculous!" Selina muttered under her breath. She assumed Bruce was having another one of his episodes and decided not to argue. She flicked her hair and turned to leave—when Bruce finally spoke:

"Selina, don't go. Come help me."

Selina stopped. She crossed her arms, turned her head, blinked at Bruce, her expression clear: "Say one more weird thing, and we're done."

But Bruce pointed to the pile beside him. "Help me find every document with the keyword 'anxiety disorder.' I need them urgently."

Seeing Bruce's serious expression, not at all like he was joking, Selina frowned skeptically. She stepped forward, flipped through the stack, then covered her eyes. "What even is all this??"

She picked up the top document, staring at the words. "What does this word mean? And this… psychology… what psychology? What's this word before it?"

Bruce stood, picked up a document. "You don't need to understand them. Just look for these words… This is 'anxiety disorder.' Find every file containing this word and give them to me."

Selina threw the paper onto the desk. "Bruce! Are you insane? It's late at night—you're not going out for a drive, not hitting a bar, not even dating—instead you're buried in this nonsense??"

"This isn't nonsense," Bruce said, placing his hand over hers. "I have to submit a sixty-thousand-word paper by tomorrow morning—or you won't see me the day after."

Selina's eyes widened. She leaned back. "You're trying to scare me again. What happens if you don't turn it in? Do they really expel you?"

She waved her hand in front of her face with a sneer. "You're just bluffing. The school wants students like you to stay as long as possible—they'd never kick you out early."

"And what do you mean, 'you won't see me'? If you don't hand in homework, do they come to your house and kill you? Even if they did, they couldn't beat you—so why worry?"

Selina stared at Bruce, convinced her logic was flawless. Why waste beautiful night and perfect timing on homework? But then Bruce spoke:

"I'm certain—if I don't submit the paper tomorrow morning, he really will come to my house. And I can't beat him."

Selina was even more stunned. "Your mental state is seriously off—you're talking nonsense! Is there anyone in this city you can't beat? Don't tell me it's that flying guy we saw in Metropolis?"

"No. Worse. My psychology professor…"

"Who?"

"Shiler Rodriguez."

"Enough. Where are the files? I'll find them now. Just write."

Ten minutes later, Selina crawled out from under a mountain of documents that had buried her, brushed her tangled hair aside, and said: "No, Bruce—you can't do this. You can't write a paper this thick in one night!"

Bruce didn't look up. "I'm trying to make the impossible possible. Quickly—find me anything with the keyword 'autism.'"

Selina stared at the chaotic mess in her hands. "Wait—I saw some earlier… Let me find them… Oh no! I scattered them!"

A few minutes later, Selina groaned, clutching a stack of papers. "I'm losing my grasp on English! I've never seen so many words in my life!"

She sighed deeply, then paused. One eye narrowed, her mouth twisted sideways—she'd just thought of something mischievous.

Moments later, Selina gripped Dick's shoulders and pointed to the study door, which glowed faintly. "Bruce needs help, but I can't do it. I think you can."

Dick had just finished telling a story to Elsa. Selina's sudden enthusiasm confused him. He remembered—whenever she was around, she always clung to Bruce. He'd had to be careful not to interrupt their private moments.

He'd planned to go straight to bed after the story, afraid he'd overhear something he shouldn't. Now, Selina was saying Bruce was doing homework??

Even as a middle schooler, he knew one rule: after days apart, the first night with your girlfriend isn't spent writing papers??

Confused, Dick was pushed into the study—and saw a sea of colorful files.

"Dick, you're here?" Bruce didn't look up. "Pick up the papers on the floor. Yellow folders go left. Blue folders go right. All textbooks go here…"

Bruce pointed to a patch of floor beneath him. Dick glanced at his frantic figure, said nothing, and immediately began sorting.

"Don't leave—where's the child psychology book? Match the keywords and mark the pages…" Bruce said again, still not looking up.

Selina, who had been sneaking toward the door, froze like a wilted plant. She slumped, sighed, and plunged back into the sea of documents.

After a while, Dick stretched his stiff neck. Beside him, Bruce wrote furiously—half a bottle of ink already gone—but the pile of completed pages was still less than a tenth of what was needed.

Thinking of sixty thousand words, Dick swallowed hard. He glanced at Selina, still searching, and whispered: "I'll never apply to this university."

"You want to go to university?" Selina asked, surprised. "Aren't you the one who hates homework?"

She glanced at Bruce. "Look at him—even a rich kid like him is being driven mad by assignments. Do you think you could write a sixty-thousand-word paper in one night?"

"Of course not! No one could!" Dick said quickly, then lowered his voice. "If it's impossible anyway, why bother? The consequences of not turning it in are probably the same as not writing it at all."

"Cough… cough…" Bruce cleared his throat. Both fell silent.

The three buried themselves in study—but Elsa, left alone in the room, was unhappy.

Dick had told her the story, but she hadn't fallen asleep. Usually, one of these three stayed with her until she drifted off.

Elsa, who refused to sleep without being soothed, jumped off the bed, dashed to the door, and pushed it open. She stared into the dark manor hallway—unafraid. Her eyes glowed faintly yellow as she sprinted down the corridor.

Most rooms in the vast manor were dark. Only one door stood slightly ajar, light spilling from the crack—Elsa spotted it instantly.

Perhaps inheriting part of Batman's genes, Elsa had already learned counter-surveillance techniques. She tiptoed toward the room, glancing left and right, checking for watchers.

The three inside were too busy: Selina searched files by keyword, Dick sorted documents, Bruce raced against time to finish his paper. None noticed the small figure peering through the door crack.

Elsa didn't understand "work" or "homework." She only knew these three preferred playing with paper over playing with her.

Furious at being ignored, Elsa shoved the door open, planted her hands on her hips, and screamed at the top of her lungs.

But the three were too absorbed. Selina was already worn down by the jargon. Dick felt guilty for having angered Bruce earlier. And Bruce had an irrational fear of Shiler Rodriguez in his "homework mode."

Driven by different emotions, all three had entered a trance. Elsa realized—for the first time—her screaming went unanswered.

She exploded with rage. Squatted, coiled her legs, and launched herself in an arc straight into the center of the paper pile.

Instantly, papers exploded like a blizzard, soaring upward, then drifting slowly down. Between the falling sheets, Bruce's face appeared—lifeless, hollow.

The next morning, Shiler tapped his empty desk with his finger, locking eyes with Bruce. He asked:

"Where's your assignment?"

"Elsa ate it."

"... here's Elsa?"

Bruce paused for a second, then bent down, reached under the desk, and lifted out a little girl.