American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

Amidst this religious atmosphere, the truck spewed black smoke all the way into the relatively clean and tidy border area between Gotham's West and North Sides.

Before long, they arrived at Martha Wayne Memorial Home.

However, at this very moment, the gate, which was unbelievably spacious, was not empty.

"Forehead……"

Xiu En looked at the rows of cameras with long lenses and short lenses at the main entrance.

Even Bruce Wayne, who maintained a perfect smile even in the rain, as if he were filming a failed election campaign, couldn't help but turn his head to look at Ivy.

"If I don't get out of the car, do you think you can just drive in and block the entrance in time?"

"What do you think?" Ivy sneered and slammed on the brakes.

The beat-up truck left a black tire track on the marble floor and came to a steady stop in front of the red carpet.

Countless flashes lit up the sky instantly, almost blinding Xiu En and the carload of kids with their pay-to-win eyes.

Joestar jumped out of the car, mistaking the flashes for some kind of mental attack, and with a roar summoned his Stand phantom to "protect" him.

As Joestar's arms, thicker than his legs, swelled up like an inflated pufferfish, and the "stand-in" behind him, visible only to Shu En and the charlatan, raised its semi-transparent void club, Shu En felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

If you were to smash it down, it wouldn't matter whether you damaged that expensive-looking camera or knocked out those journalists who kill with their pens.

Tomorrow's headlines will definitely not be about Wayne's charity, but about cult thugs attacking an orphanage.

Xiu En got off the bus immediately.

His palm slammed down on Joestar's bulging shoulder with a loud thud.

"calm."

Xiu En lowered his voice.

"No need to be alarmed. This is... a common form of praise, the hustle and bustle of the world. It is also your first lesson in cultivation: remain as immovable as a mountain."

Joestar's muscles instantly stiffened.

His bloodshot bull-like eyes blinked rapidly twice. Although he didn't quite understand, he caught the core keywords: cultivation, stillness.

"It's...an angel...no, sir."

Joestar forcibly pulled his consciousness back from that semi-void state, lowered his head, and even rubbed his trouser leg with his hand with some shame.

"I thought these infidels with pipes were going to open fire on you."

The wave of flashes hesitated for only a moment because of the commotion inside the truck.

For Gotham's media, a suspicious homeless man or madman sticking his head out of a beat-up truck is not newsworthy at all, not even as newsworthy as the color of Bruce Wayne's tie today, but a naked man still interests the reporters.

"Ladies and gentlemen. While I also miss those wild party entrances of the past, today's star isn't this art-filled retro truck."

Bruce took a step forward, his figure appearing upright and commanding even in the gloomy rain.

He opened his arms, and his smile, which was three parts cynical and seven parts sincere, instantly captured the focus of all the cameras again.

"Today's protagonist is hope, a reason for the future of this city, for its children, to no longer need to be homeless."

He snapped his fingers, and bodyguards immediately stepped forward, politely but firmly blocking several tabloid reporters who were trying to shove microphones into Xiu En's nostrils.

While Bruce was drawing attention like a giant light bulb, Hugh, his trench coat soaked by the rain, slipped out of the car through the "hidden passage" deliberately cleared by the bodyguards.

As he passed by Bruce, he paused for a second quite naturally, and even gave a half-hearted peace sign to a camera in the corner.

"This is not covered by the contract, boss."

Xiu En maintained a stiff smile, his voice barely audible to the two of them, carrying the ruthless, exploitative air of a businessman.

"Compensation for emotional distress, public relations cooperation fees, and... skincare expenses for getting soaked in this awful weather. Remember to send the bill to Afu later."

"Add to that the medical equipment you destroyed last night and the food budget you're about to consume here."

Bruce didn't even change the curve of his lips, still waving to the crowd and speaking very quickly.

"I really regret that you didn't just suddenly die in the isolation room. Take the children in, and don't cause any trouble, Xiu En."

"Look at you, you're saying one thing and meaning another again."

Xiu En shrugged.

"I was so touched I could die."

Amidst the cacophony of camera shutters, Ivy led the group of children, who were still reeling from the earlier spectacle, and quickly slipped inside through a side door.

As soon as you enter the gate, the noise and rain are completely cut off by the thick soundproof glass.

The room was warm and bright, and... Bruce had clearly done his homework.

It's filled with truly vibrant green plants, and there's even a small-scale ecological cycle system that mimics a tropical rainforest.

The children instantly let out a low, suppressed gasp.

Ivy stopped in her tracks.

Her eyes, which hadn't shown much kindness even when facing Batman, were now slowly sweeping over the carefully tended broad-leaved plants, as well as the reading area and soft-mat playground clearly prepared for children.

"snort."

The most troublesome female villain in Gotham let out a cold, ambiguous snort. But her hand gently stroked the leaves beside her.

The plants' feedback doesn't lie; every leaf here speaks of safety.

"It seems that the giant bat isn't entirely beyond saving."

"Thump!"

A loud crash slammed into the window of the courtyard.

Xiu En, who was trying to twist himself into a pretzel on the sofa, was so startled that he almost slipped off the cushion.

The yawn that was about to appear on his lips was abruptly suppressed by the noise.

"What's going on? I think this kind of entrance is a bit lacking in skill, whether it's for an otherworldly assassin or a local Gotham psychopath."

Shu En rubbed his chest to catch his breath, only to see Joestar, who hadn't even sat down yet, already flashing in front of him, grabbing a brass floor lamp base next to the sofa as a weapon.

His muscles were twitching wildly even under his clothes, clearly ready to physically exorcise the creature that dared to disturb the gods' rest.

"Relax. Put that damn lamp down; it's probably more expensive than your organs."

Bruce walked over from the other side carrying two cups of hand-drip coffee, knowing what had happened without even looking in that direction.

"Just another poor soul bewildered by Gotham's terrible weather. These reflective panes are invisible walls to birds, even though I added a bird strike protection layer to the design."

"bird?"

Shuen pushed aside Joestar's wall-like back and moved closer to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside the rain-washed glass, a grayish-brown ball of fur lay upside down in the drain. Even in its unconscious state, it had enormous yellow eyes and a very distinctive face.

An owl.

And they are the kind that are quite large.