Chapter 757

Aisha grinned, her mouth full of sharp teeth, revealing a sweet, innocent smile; in the gaps between those teeth, Siegel could just make out scraps of paper.

Siegel took a deep breath, then exhaled—it turned out that retribution doesn't fail, it's just not due yet.

After Bruce had seen Aisha off, he returned to Siegel's desk, where Siegel held a transcript, his expression grim.

"Mr. Bruce Wayne, I must inform you that your academic standing has fallen to a critically dangerous level: your absences, unsubmitted assignments, and refusal to participate in any school activities have left you without sufficient credits for two of your three university years."

"This year, you will enter your fourth and final year. If your performance remains at this level, I regret to inform you that you will… delay your graduation."

The four words "delay your graduation" struck Bruce like a bolt from the blue.

Yes, Bruce Wayne didn't need a university diploma—he was worth more than nations, his income per minute might exceed a student's annual salary, and he didn't need the degree to find work; no one would look down on him for lacking it.

But others only saw the facade Bruce presented: the idle playboy. Bruce himself knew he wasn't that man. Getting a university degree was trivial for him, so he couldn't possibly accept the idea of delaying graduation.

If he had never enrolled or attended university, that could be seen as his own choice. But he had already reached his third year, just one year from graduation, only to be told he might delay—minor damage, but crushing humiliation.

Bruce absolutely could not accept delaying graduation.

Normally, no university would choose to delay Bruce Wayne's graduation—it made no sense. Everyone knew the playboy was just there for a veneer of prestige; why bother with him?

His academic performance was poor, he skipped class, he didn't write papers—so what? He didn't need the diploma. His mind wasn't on scholarship. Forcing him would only hurt both sides. Why not spend that time focusing on real students?

But Gotham was a strange place. Even the fake playboy Bruce Wayne could be considered moldable material. The only person in the class with better grades than him was Yin Wensi Falco, future Godfather of Gotham.

It wasn't that Siegel wanted to milk only this one sheep—the problem was, Bruce was still a sheep. The rest were dogs Hunruyangqun. Whether they wanted to learn was one thing; whether they could understand was another.

Bruce didn't want to learn, but at least he could understand—he had super memory, no concept or definition could stump him, rich practical experience, and more importantly, high physical capability, making him ideal for becoming a psychologist in Gotham.

As for whether Bruce wanted to study psychology? He himself had said he did. He himself had chosen Siegel's course. Siegel had warned him then—he didn't listen. Whose fault was that?

Bruce stared silently at Siegel, who stared back, then said seriously: "You'd better abandon the idea of bribing the dean for your diploma."

"First, Gotham University doesn't even have a dean right now. Even if it did, if he were willing to sell you a diploma, we'd replace him."

Siegel offered a false smile, looking at Bruce: "The righteous Batman—would you bet a life on whether I have the unwavering resolve to uphold academic justice?"

"No need." Bruce answered immediately. He took a deep breath, fell silent for a moment, then asked: "How can I graduate normally?"

"I don't intend to pursue the issues from the past three years…" Siegel began. At this, Bruce exhaled in relief—if Siegel demanded he make up all past credits and assignments, he'd have nothing else to do this year.

But he soon realized he'd rejoiced too soon.

"First, you must make up all missed credits and assignments from your third year. I can't give you individual make-up classes, but you can attend lower-year courses—essentially, retake them."

"If you can't finish a ten-thousand-word paper in one night, you must submit every single overdue assignment before September's semester begins—not one word missing."

"Also, I know your true ability, so don't try to fool me with the garbage written by illiterate students. I expect you to propose your own research topic. You must also attend the internship in the second half of the semester—no absences—and submit your internship report…"

"Also, you've never attended a single elective. The psychology club has been run entirely by Yin Wensi. You must make up all these credits within a year. If I don't see you complete your required credits this year, you'll be waiting for delay."

As Bruce walked out of the registrar's building, he felt dizzy. He felt threatened—but the nature of the threat struck him as absurd.

He had never imagined his greatest challenge as Batman wouldn't be dangerous criminals or complex cases, but failing to graduate due to insufficient credits.

Yet it was all real. In past days, he'd fully recognized this professor's ruthless commitment to academia—he just never expected to be the target.

At other universities, professors who enforced academic rigor typically demanded more papers, more lectures, more group meetings, always ready to absorb cutting-edge research.

Siegel's version of enforcing rigor meant more night walks, more investigations, more cooperation with police—always ready to engineer an accidental dean's death.

But past events had made Bruce realize Siegel wasn't joking.

Bruce knew that if he truly tried to install a dean who'd hand him a diploma, the next day Gordon would call him: Gotham University had witnessed its first-ever dean murder.

No suspect, no weapon—yet the motive was crystal clear. The next day, Bruce Wayne's name would headline the Gotham Daily: "Bruce Wayne Bribes Dean to Avoid Delayed Graduation."

Only when he reached the library did Bruce regain clarity. He knew now: there was only one choice—study hard, improve daily.

Past events had made Bruce realize he'd been overestimating himself. No one else demanded perfection from him. The Earth would turn just fine without Batman. So he'd better focus on more urgent matters.

For the entire week, Bruce studied day and night, cramming every psychology concept, and also thoroughly studied neuroscience and brain science.

Of course, a week wasn't enough to master these subjects deeply—but at least he grasped the basics and completed most of his overdue papers.

Most painful of all: he had to retake introductory psychology with the lower-year students—even though he already knew it—because his credit hours were insufficient.

So the question arose: among the lower-year students, who did Bruce least want to see?

The answer: Lex Luthor, who had just enrolled at Gotham University.

Upon learning Bruce had to retake courses, Lex let out a cackle he'd never produced before, and immediately shared this joyous news with Clark Kent in Metropolis—surely, it would become a cherished memory among the three.

"Lex, what are you laughing at?" Siegel tapped his ruler against the lectern. "Why aren't you looking at the blackboard? Why stare at Bruce? If you find it funny, I can let you experience it too when you're a junior."

Lex immediately suppressed his expression, nodded solemnly at Siegel: "Yes, Professor. Unlike this detestable playboy, I have a deep interest in academia. I'd be delighted to hear your lectures again…"

Ignoring Bruce's face as black as a soot-covered pot, Lex felt better than ever—even Gotham's rainy weather couldn't dampen his mood—until, on his way home from campus, he was rear-ended.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir! It wasn't intentional! We'll pay full compensation!" A lavishly dressed woman stepped out of the car, apologizing profusely—but Lex frowned the moment he saw her.

A fat man also climbed out of the driver's seat, continually apologizing, then stared at Lex's car: "Terribly sorry, sir. Your vehicle looks… damaged. It probably won't drive. We'll call the best towing service immediately—please allow us to take you home…"

"No need. Your car isn't damaged. No compensation required." Lex said, walked back to his driver's seat, stepped on the gas, and turned away.

The man and woman were left standing in Gotham's cold wind. The lady stomped her foot, gritted her teeth, and returned to the car.

As Fatty Leon returned to the car, Lady Goth said: "What's going on with Bruce Wayne? Why's he been staying at school all these days?"

"It's ridiculous. This playboy hasn't left campus for a whole week—and according to my daughter, he only goes to the library, doesn't even attend parties!"

Leon snorted. "Who knows what rich old men think? Maybe he's lost his mind and suddenly wants to study."

Lady Goth sighed, arms crossed: "Even Luthor isn't falling for it. Will this method even work?"

"Two billionaires are both in Gotham—we must seize this chance and bring both into our fold. The Great King's cause will proceed more smoothly."

"So now—do we wait for Wayne, or shift focus to Luthor?" Lady Goth asked again.

Leon took a deep breath: "Wayne has already shown interest. He's easier to lure. He's just temporarily tied up—figure out what's holding him, help him resolve it, and we might even gain some goodwill…"

Lady Goth nodded: "My daughter has friends at Gotham University. I'll have her find out what's keeping Wayne on campus so long."

One day later, Lady Goth spoke into the phone: "What? Bruce Wayne can't attend parties because he has to retake courses??"

"What the hell? Who failed him?? His psychology professor?" She switched the phone to the other ear. "What's his name? Got it."

Lady Goth hung up and told Leon: "We found why Wayne's so busy. His psychology professor, Shiler Rodriguez, failed him—he has to retake courses, so he's been stuck at school."

Leon snorted. "Study hard? Impossible. Bruce Wayne's a lazy, ignorant bastard. This is just an act. A little temptation, and he'll reveal his true colors."

Lady Goth rolled her eyes. "I heard his romantic history is extensive—half the beauties in Gotham have been with him…"

Leon glanced at her. She smiled. "My daughter's a beauty too. She's about to enter university. I recall Gotham University just launched a preparatory program—let her join early, experience campus life, meet Wayne. Maybe we can distract him…"

Leon smirked—he understood Lady Goth's plan perfectly, but didn't stop her. After all, Lady Goth's daughter was genuinely pretty. With a little maneuvering, success might be possible.

In Gotham University's office, Victor entered with a list. "The preparatory class rooms and teaching equipment are ready. We've divided them into three classes, each teaching a different skill."

Victor gave Siegel a thumbs-up.

"You're brilliant. By attaching a vocational school under Gotham University's name, the Wayne and Luthor families can now invest here legitimately…"

"And this is our territory. No one dares interfere."