American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

The door opened.

An elderly man with a straight posture and meticulous attention to detail.

Alfred Pennyworth.

This butler, who was in some ways more mysterious and powerful than Batman, just stood there quietly.

His gaze swept over the group of drenched people.

He was glowing as if he had just run out of a nuclear power plant leak site.

Ivy, barefoot, stepped into the muddy ground.

Joestar, clutching a water pipe, his knees filthy from kneeling on the ruins for so long.

And Jerami.

"Good evening, Miss Pamela. And these are... visitors from this rainy night."

Ivy, who was just gritting her teeth in the garden, wanting Bruce to hang the streetlights, strangely subsided by 90% the moment she saw the old man.

She even subconsciously tucked a stray strand of hair that had been blocking her forehead behind her ear and greeted the housekeeper politely.

Good evening, Afu.

Her voice was so soft that it sent a shiver down Jerami's spine as he stood next to her.

"Sorry to wake you up. I know you're probably still in that basement wiping that giant baby's butt at this hour, but I really have an urgent matter to attend to."

"It's alright, Miss Pamela. Even if you live in darkness all the time, it's good to be exposed to some vitality now and then."

Alfred bowed slightly and stepped aside to make way for the dazzlingly opulent foyer.

"As for Mr. Bruce, he's in the library trying to make his empty brain look a little fuller."

"At least that's what he publicly stated."

When Hugh stepped onto that carpet, which was probably worth more than his entire life, he hesitated for a moment.

"I don't think I need to take my shoes off, right?"

He pointed to his sneakers, which were not only soaked but also covered in some kind of indescribable black mud from the sewer.

"This could ruin your carpet."

"Please go ahead, sir."

Alfred produced a thick, snow-white towel from nowhere and, before Hugh could even react, very gentlemanly handed it to him.

"Here, only the filth on the soul is hard to wash away; as for the dirt, the vacuum cleaner will be happy to do the work."

Joestar gripped the steel pipe warily, his eyes fixed on the crystal chandelier overhead, which probably consisted of two hundred light bulbs. He muttered under his breath, "Sir, this is definitely the devil's sugar-coated bullet. This bright light is a show of force against you."

Xiuen ignored the persecution complex of his own followers.

He could smell the aroma that only top-quality coffee beans, precisely ground and brewed, a hundred times more enticing than the so-called smell of money.

But this elegance and tranquility, even if it lasted only a second, came to an end the moment Ivy rushed into the library.

"Bruce! You pervert!"

Ivy didn't even sit down.

She slammed the remnant of the listening device core that she had been clutching all the way onto the nanmu wood table in front of Bruce.

"Look what you've done!"

She pointed at the gadget, her finger almost poking Bruce Wayne's face.

"This is the third time! The third time!"

Her chest heaved violently with anger.

"First it was drones, then those mechanical insects disguised as bees, and now they're actually stuffing miniature sonar under my water lilies? Did that rubber hood suffocate your head? I'm a plant grower, not a terrorist!"

Bruce Wayne did not move.

Faced with accusations that would frighten an ordinary tycoon into sounding the alarm, he simply raised his eyelids innocently and glanced at the scrap metal that had even dented the expensive wood lacquer on the table.

Pamela.

His voice carried that languid air typical of a playboy, along with a hint of helplessness at being wrongly accused.

"First of all, this looks like a new toy that Lucius's team is developing, which I know nothing about. Secondly... you rushed in so late just to give me this?"

His gaze passed over the furious Ivy, and even though it was just a fleeting glance, the sharp scrutiny that was instantly concealed finally settled on Xiu En, who was standing at the door enjoying the hot towel that Afu had handed him.

A light source that doesn't need to be plugged in at night.

This thing is much more interesting than any surveillance footage.

Xiu En covered his mouth and nose with the hot towel that Afu handed him.

After a simple cough.

When Xiu En removed the towel, besides the water stains from wiping his face, there was a faint, shimmering, pale golden blood vessel clinging to the part of the towel that hadn't yet been absorbed.

Ivy, who had been frantically typing away in the room, suddenly fell silent.

She is very sensitive to the loss of vitality.

But this silence didn't linger on the Gotham rich kid's face for long.

Bruce's fingers didn't leave his glass, but in his azure eyes, which always seemed to be searching for fun, that fleeting change of light and shadow flashed across the mirror.

He was thinking.

Consider whether the frequency of coughing is due to prolonged exposure to a certain chemical reagent.

We need to consider whether that golden blood is due to genetic mutation or some unknown radiation sickness.

Wow.

Hugh smirked, crumpling the towel in his hand to cover the bloodstain, and met Bruce's gaze.

"If you look at Playboy cover girls with that kind of gaze, Mr. Wayne, then I can only say that your taste is frighteningly unique."

He took two steps toward the sofa.

"Your eyes don't look like you want to sign a check for me, but rather like you're considering whether to soak me in formaldehyde."

"That's probably because he has an incurable...desire to study any beauty that is beyond his comprehension."

Alfred interjected quite naturally.

This perfectly drowned out Bruce's potentially more aggressive rebuttal.

"Now that things have come to this, I think you might not mind grabbing a bite before continuing your discussion about that listening device that's now just scrap metal."

Alfred lifted the silver lid off the food cart.

"Given the time constraints, I think some simple Reuben sandwiches with decaffeinated black tea would be a good choice."

The rich aroma of beef blends with the slightly melted flavor of Swiss cheese.

The sound of Jerami swallowing hard, so spineless, was clearly audible.

Xiu En was not polite at all.

He picked up a piece and, without caring whether it was too hot to eat, stuffed it into his mouth.

This meat is not only a perfect creation full of protein and carbohydrates, but it also seems to carry some kind of energy that only top-quality ingredients have?

He felt his stamina bar jump.

This is much more useful than gnawing on that cold, hard bun that just shines.

"This is probably the most expensive late-night snack I've ever had in my life."

Xiu En looked at Ivy and offered a somewhat vague but sincere suggestion.

"No matter how long you originally planned to yell at him tonight, I suggest you continue tomorrow. For the sake of this meal."

Ivy glared at him, then glanced at Afu's ever-present polite smile, and finally snorted coldly before grabbing a piece with extreme rudeness.

"Just this once, Afu. If I see that beast in human form in my orchid pot again tomorrow, I'll bury all his sports cars underground."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, picked up his "liquor," and made a toasting gesture, the dangerous edge in his eyes softening considerably.

"It sounds like a temporary ceasefire agreement has been reached?"

Xiu En swallowed the last bite of beef.

"Could this be considered the beginning of a medical mutual aid agreement?"

He pointed to his throat.

"After all, I think it would be hard to find another good place in Gotham where you can have a late-night snack while dealing with a dispute over illegal surveillance."