American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

Morning light has always been a luxury in Gotham.

Normally, the mornings here are only shrouded in dark gray fog and light gray rain.

But in the greenhouse of Martha Wayne Home, some artificial morning light is creeping damply up from a huge fermentation vat.

As the liquid level drops.

Xiu En finally finished his twelve-hour marinating process.

He stood in the still-damp black water, his divine skin exuding an impressive and unique fragrance.

"Is this what it means to be reborn?"

Xiu En raised his arm and smelled it. The muscle lines there seemed firmer than yesterday, even giving the illusion of being drawn with metal wire.

He tried to take a deep breath. Hmm, it doesn't hurt so much anymore. It's working well!

"I'm not sure if I'm cured now, or if I've turned into a perfectly preserved Egyptian pharaoh who was just unearthed."

He shook off the water, and his brightness was indeed much more stable than yesterday when he looked half-dead.

"If you don't put on your clothes and get out of here, I don't mind turning you into fertilizer. The Venus flytraps in the greenhouse are a bit malnourished lately."

Pamela Ivy was slowly sipping a strange, green liquid made from some unknown plant.

She waved her hand, and a thick vine, as if throwing away trash, slammed his trench coat, which had been ripped off and tossed aside yesterday but was now clean, into his face.

"Your lungs won't die anytime soon."

Ivy added indifferently.

"Don't ask about the principles, and don't ask if it's science or magic."

"Thank you, miracle doctor."

Xiu En put on his trench coat with a grin.

Although Ivy's attitude hadn't been good since yesterday, he keenly sensed that the sense of rejection in the air had lessened considerably.

"So I'm being discharged from the hospital then?"

As soon as the glass door of the greenhouse was pushed open, Xiu En was slightly taken aback by the scene before him.

Solomon Grandi sat on the steps, his huge head slumped on his knees, carefully clutching a shriveled Coke cup in his hand.

On his shoulders, on his head, and even in the tattered pocket of his suit, several children were hanging haphazardly in all sorts of strange sleeping positions.

Hearing the door open, the giant's ears twitched, and then his cloudy eyes snapped open.

"It's lit up?"

Solomon, seemingly afraid of waking the little people on his body, slowly cracked a very simple, even a little silly, smile on his face.

"The light...it's on."

"Yes, that's it. What's wrong with the caregivers at this orphanage? Do they just let the children sleep in the yard?"

Xiu En walked over and patted the belly of this huge guy, who was even taller than him.

The touch felt like touching a stone, but Xiu En sensed a pulsating dependence within it.

"Let's go, big guy."

Shuen bent down and took the half-eaten bag of cookies from Jerami, whose face was covered in drool from sleeping. Shuen was a little hungry after lying down all night.

Jerami shouldn't mind, right?

"Come on, I'll take you to have a real breakfast."

Just as Xiu En was about to leave, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

When Xiu En took it out, he saw an unread message from Bruce, who should be busy to death on the other side of the world.

From: B

[Text: I saw the plant index. Ivy has turned the entire outer wall of the orphanage into a plant fortress. I think we can talk about the next work arrangements later. Also, if you don't mind, could you take a look around the gate and see if there are any unfamiliar faces?]

Before Xiu En could even complain, he raised an eyebrow and heard a knock at the gate of the orphanage.

The presence of the black gold man-eating flower deterred people from entering the orphanage.

Through the iron fence, Shuen saw a nasty guy standing there with a smile.

Behind him, there was even a bulletproof car with the "Mayor March Campaign Team" logo.

The man outside the iron fence maintained his impeccable smile, showing no disgust even when Xiu En deliberately crunched the biscuit.

He wore a gray suit and looked so neat he didn't seem like a Gothamite.

Expensive cufflinks, gleaming with the unique luster of expensive metal.

"I am also pleased to see you in such good spirits, Mr. Shuen."

Lincoln March's voice was full of just the right amount of concern.

"I heard this morning that the air quality near the welfare home was a bit abnormal, and I was particularly worried about it."

He glanced almost imperceptibly at the huge gray monster behind him who was still sitting on the steps, sucking on a finger.

"After all, as a strong candidate for Gotham, it's very gratifying to see the work going so smoothly here."

Xiu En did not open the door.

He simply leaned lazily against the iron railing, his pupils reflecting March's seemingly sincere face.

"I am truly gratified."

Xiu En swallowed the last bite of the biscuit, patted the crumbs off his hands, and thought, "Normal food still tastes the best."

Xiu En grinned.

"Hey Mr. March, did you wander onto the wrong set? I remember you didn't intend to write me a thank-you note the last time we met."

March's smile finally twitched slightly at the corner of his eye.

Although it was only for a brief moment, he clearly did not expect that this seemingly carefree, bald man would not bother with playing word games at all.

Misunderstandings often stem from information asymmetry.

March composed himself in just half a second. He even took a step forward, his eyes, which bore a resemblance to Bruce's but were even colder, fixed intently on Hugh.

"Gotham has always had a lot of radical wild animals, Mr. Shuen. But that doesn't stop civilized people like us from sitting down and talking about how to make this city more orderly."

He pulled an exquisitely crafted invitation with gold trim from the inside pocket of his suit and slipped it through the crack in the iron gate.

"Those useless old toys are broken and that's it; they exist to be consumed. I believe that someone with your special talent should be able to understand the most basic natural law of survival of the fittest."

March changed the subject.

"We are looking for new, more valuable friends, not cowards who only know how to hide in the gutter in bat costumes."

Xiu En stared at the letter, then glanced at the luxury sedan behind him, whose window frames were made of high-strength bulletproof alloy.

Xiu En snapped his fingers.

The air in the front yard distorted slightly, and a golden aura shot out from his fingertips, striking a corner of the invitation that was still in March's hand.

In an instant, the gold edge was forcibly pulled out, turning into a gold bead no bigger than a grain of rice that flew back into Xiu En's hand.

The piece of paper, having lost its supporting structure, slumped limply and tore in two.

"You seem to have misunderstood something."

Xiu En put the golden bead into his mouth and chewed it like popcorn.

He leaned forward, his glowing face almost pressed against the iron bars, casting a warm, golden shadow into March's pupils at close range.

"In my repertoire, you, and your crippled so-called court, taste worse than the gangster's pig iron."

"Don't think that just because you've changed your attitude I've forgotten who you are."

Shum looked Lincoln up and down, his smile fading.

"Should I dig out that super-sturdy power armor you had before and have it for breakfast?"