The aliens who were picked up by Superman at the beginning

Seeing the envelope so close to him, the clown couldn't wait to reach out his hand.

But just as he reached out halfway, he seemed to remember something, quickly pulled back, and took off his gentleman's gloves.

Despite having virtually no dirt on his pale skin, he still rubbed it repeatedly on his suit.

Finally, he took the envelope, his lips trembling as he carefully and slowly held it up to his eyes.

Looking at the elegant handwriting on the stamp, I gently stroked it with my fingers.

"My God, it really is Bruce. These are the cursive characters I taught him when he was a child."

Unwrapping the envelope, my trembling hands seemed too weak to even hold a letter properly. It took me two or three tries to finally pull out the letter.

A photograph attached to the back of the letter was pulled out along with it, leaping lightly from the seal, seemingly about to drift into Gotham's sewers.

"No!"

The clown lunged forward, holding the envelope and letter high in one hand and trying to reach for the photo in mid-air with the other.

Seeing that the other person was about to fall into the sewage due to his unsteady posture, Li Zhen stepped forward, supported the clown with one hand, and held the photo with the other. After stabilizing the clown, she handed the photo to him.

"Be careful, madam."

"Oh my god, thank you."

The clown mumbled thanks, then clutched the photo to his chest, sticking it back and forth before finally picking it up to look at it.

Li Zhen also glanced at it.

He hadn't had a chance to peek at the letter yet.

That was a candid photo of Bruce Wayne.

The background is Wayne Manor. A young, handsome, and wealthy young man is standing by the manor's flowerbed, wearing a well-pressed white shirt. One hand is draped over what appears to be his suit jacket, while the other hand is somewhat out of place on a brand-new lawnmower.

The butler, Alfred, strode toward Bruce, carrying a tray with a pot of hot tea and two empty cups. His usually composed face was inexplicably tense.

Because of the angle of the shot, Bruce Wayne wasn't looking at the camera, but most of his profile was visible, and it was clear that the corners of his mouth were at least slightly upturned.

In the Batcave of another world, Batman stopped struggling in a daze. He stared intently at the image transmitted back through Li Zhen's goggles, his gaze fixed on that familiar yet unfamiliar pale face.

Everyone seemed frozen in place, staring blankly at the screen.

Shazam let out a soft "wow."

"He even has photos that capture this kind of everyday life?"

Nightwing, who had gotten up from the ground with half his face swollen up, snorted coldly.

"I filmed this several years ago. At that time, he rarely wanted to take me to the grass to check my combat skills during the day. As a result, he found a lawnmower that Afu had secretly obtained from somewhere in the yard."

"The weeds in the manor hadn't been trimmed for years, and he was probably in a rare good mood at the time, so he took off his clothes and decided to try it himself."

Nightwing covered his swollen face with resentment.

"If I hadn't suddenly come up with this idea, he wouldn't even have a single normal photo to put in an envelope—Bruce was mostly just putting on an act when he was out in public."

Nightwing didn't say anything more.

As a mother, I can certainly tell whether the expressions on my child's face are genuine or just a cold pretense.

As the president of Wayne Enterprises, Bruce Wayne is undoubtedly the subject of numerous paparazzi photos.

There are always plenty of photos of successful people shaking hands with their partners, or playboys embracing young models.

But those photos simply cannot convey a good state of mind to the people who know you best and care about you the most.

In the only photo taken by Nightwing, Bruce seemed to have shed all his constraints and pressures at that moment, showing a most natural and relaxed appearance.

Although there was still no obvious smile on her face.

But it shouldn't cause parents any worry or heartache.

The clown covered his mouth, looked at the photo again and again, touched it carefully, and then tucked it into the lining of his clothes, placing it as close to his heart as possible for safekeeping.

Then I looked at the letter.

This time, Li Zhen took a step back.

He was thoroughly fed up with Thomas Wayne's cheesy letter last time.

Then I wasn't so curious anymore.

As he watched, the clown suddenly knelt down on the ground with a thud.

Tears streamed down her face, and she sobbed uncontrollably, muttering to herself.

"Oh, Bruce... oh, my child..."

Batman inside the Batcave began to tremble violently.

The next second, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

Ribs, completely bewildered, clung to Batman, his eyes wide, and roared.

"We've already said he had a capillary hemorrhage in his brain! Isn't anyone going to help him?"

Upon hearing this, the people in the Batcave seemed to wake from a dream, hurriedly taking Batman from Ridge Chao's hands and then handing him over to Cyborg, who was already standing on the makeshift operating table.

Standing there, Li Zhen looked at the clown—no, that woman could no longer be called a clown.

She should be called Mrs. Martha, or Mrs. Wayne or something like that.

"Madam, if you truly miss your son so much..."

Li Zhen once again pulled out the tracking device that was supposed to be prepared for the Flash, but had already been used on Pai Gu Chao.

"Perhaps you could go and see for yourself."

Mrs. Martha's eyes were red and swollen from crying. She looked up at the locator in Li Zhen's hand, as if she were enveloped in boundless hope.

She struggled.

Because she was holding a priceless treasure that she absolutely did not want to be tainted by sewage or dust in one hand, she could only use her other hand to support herself on the floor, and she staggered as she tried to get up.

But in that brief moment when she lowered her head...

The murky, polluted waters of Gotham City, this time reflected her features so clearly.

Long, green curly hair, a deathly pale face, and a cracked, scarlet mouth.

She paused.

After a five-second silence, Mrs. Martha raised her head, and what remained in her eyes was probably some kind of indescribable despair and pain.

Li Zhen didn't know why.

But it seems that just now, something must have happened to the other party that he couldn't understand.

Beneath those swollen eyelids, joy, pain, hope, despair... so many emotions were constantly mixed together.

Yet there remains an extremely subtle madness, growing slowly but steadily.

"No."

Li Zhen frowned.

The other party's refusal was beyond his judgment.

Seemingly due to some kind of intuition, Li Zhen suddenly raised her hand and took off her mask. With a clench of her five fingers, she casually crushed the mask, which was equipped with monitoring and transmission functions.

Why?

"I...I was poisoned by Luther. Whether or not I can complete my mission to intercept you, I don't have much time left to live."

"I can't be that selfish. If I go there and then die again, it would be too cruel to Bruce in your world."

Li Zhen stared intently at the other person, trying to memorize every subtle change in the clown's expression.

"This is probably not what you truly believe, madam."

"We might be able to solve it over there..."

The clown put a finger to his lips.

She shook her head at Li Zhen.

"Weren't you going to save your world's Flash?"

"Don't waste your time on someone as dead as me."

The clown stood up, his head slightly lowered, seemingly trying to avoid Li Zhen's gaze.

"I'll give you a gift, and then I'll ask you to leave this world as soon as possible."

She turned around and walked toward the iron gate that had been opened earlier.

Li Zhen hesitated briefly.

"Hurry up, there's not much time left."