I train Batman in a horror world

one way or another.

Grandpa Fu finally got to drink a glass of water personally brought to him by his butler, Afu.

Bats are actually not very big; they are so short that they can't even reach a water glass.

At that moment, Fu Er plopped down on the sofa, with a glass of water between his legs.

He was watching Bruce and Alfred's conversation through his water glass.

......

Bruce thought Fowler made sense. Rather than asking a mysterious figure for answers, they should ask Alfred, the butler who had lived there all along.

Do you think Gotham is alive?

"..."

Quiet.

Bruce could sense that after he finished speaking, Alfred, who was sitting next to him, paused noticeably, and the silence was so profound that he could hear Alfred breathing.

After a moment of silence, Alfred spoke.

"Young Master Bruce, where did you hear that claim?"

Bruce didn't answer immediately, but instead looked up at the man opposite him, Bat-like Foll, who had taken over the entire sofa.

Immediately afterwards, a straw, which appeared out of nowhere, slowly floated into the water glass that Fu'er was holding.

Ful took a big gulp of water and asked in confusion, "Why are you all looking at me?"

"..."

Bruce shrugged, the meaning of which was self-evident.

That's what this guy said.

And of course, there was that floating straw from earlier.

Alfred nodded, as if confirming something, and then said:

"Mr. Thomas... he also mentioned this issue when he was still alive."

"?!"

Alfred noticed that the young master's body stiffened involuntarily.

Bruce pressed on, "What did Father say? And what was your answer?!"

Compared to Bruce's impatient tone, Alfred's tone was remarkably calm.

"Mr. Thomas asked this after a dinner party. He had drunk a lot and was leaning back on the sofa in his study when he said, 'Don't you feel that this city... has its own will?'"

"And then? What did you say?!" Bruce asked.

I did not answer.

"What?"

"Because he wasn't asking me," Alfred said. "He was asking himself."

Bruce opened his mouth, but no words came out.

After a moment of silence, he pressed on, "And what about you? Do you think Gotham is alive?"

Alfred reached out and straightened Bruce's collar, his movements gentle and careful.

He said, "I've lived in this city for decades, young master."

"Gotham isn't like the hotel you brought back; it doesn't talk, and it doesn't chop people with an axe."

"It just creates a misconception in your mind."

"A kind of illusion that makes you feel like nothing you do is worthwhile."

"..."

Bruce was stunned.

He also remembered how much his father did for Gotham when his parents were alive, and how he designed and built the subway for convenient living.

The mother established an orphanage specifically to take in homeless children in need of help.

But the result?

Bruce doesn't even dare to recall their fate.

It seems like living in Gotham City, good people just don't get rewarded!

"So Gotham isn't just about living that simple," Bruce whispered.

Alfred glanced at his young master.

"Young master, it's not complicated."

"What do you mean?"

"It can be alive or dead. If you think it eats people, then it is; but if you think it's just an ordinary city, then it is a city with good people and bad people."

At this point, Alfred paused for a moment.

He suddenly felt a pang of regret.

I should have just ended the conversation there.

It's better not to say what you want to say.

But the moment the action was made, Bruce caught it instantly.

"What are you going to say?" Bruce asked.

Alfred paused for a moment, then said, "Mr. Thomas and Mrs. Martha saw the latter; they saw the rot in Gotham, but they also saw the parts of Gotham that weren't completely rotten yet."

......

In the time that followed.

Bruce seemed preoccupied with the question of whether Gotham was still alive, and he became unusually silent.

As Bruce's closest person now.

Alfred was also suffering.

Although Bruce's state was not the same as before, he was empty and soulless.

But what exactly is their young master thinking?

Alfred still had some suspicions in his mind.

As for Fore?

Bruce has already approached Foul.

They are now in the art collection room at Wayne Manor.

The collection room contains many valuable and ancient items.

Bruce didn't know what had gotten into Fowler, but he liked to stay here like a miserly mouse.

When Bruce found Fall, he was still clutching a gold coin in his bat claw.

"I have a question for you."

"Do you think I, as a hamster, can take these supplies with me?"

"Answer my questions honestly, and all of this is yours," Bruce said expressionlessly.

"Really?"

Bruce didn't know what conditions were required to get Fowler back into training.

But if conditions permit.

He had nothing left but these gold and silver treasures.

"Can I start the new training?" Bruce asked.

"Sure." Foul's eyes darted around. "You thought about it for so long, and this is the result?"

"No."

Bruce released his grip, and Fowler slid into a golden cup, resting his head on the rim as if taking a bath, his face full of enjoyment.

"You and the hotel both said that Gotham is alive."

"Alfred is right. Gotham creates a false sense of security, making people feel that nothing they do matters."

"Hmm?" Foul blinked, as if he knew what Bruce was thinking.

Bruce said, "My parents...it's not that they didn't know what Gotham was like, they did, but they still did it."

Fowle raised an eyebrow: "So your plan is..."

"I will face Gotham head-on, just as I faced the hotel back then."

Bruce's eyes were serious: "I'm going to start a new round of training. I'm going to a world where I can learn new skills."

Fowler naturally wouldn't refuse, and asked curiously, "Aren't you going to tell your butler, Alfred?"

"We'll talk about it when we get back."

"I'm afraid that won't work."

"no?"

Bruce's eyebrows immediately furrowed together.

Fowle pointed to the door of the collection room.

"Because he's on his way to you right now, and he has something important to tell you."

"Something important?"

Bruce J frowned even more; he didn't think anything was more important than the upcoming training trip to other worlds.

Not long after.

Alfred pushed open the door to the collection room.

"Young Master Bruce, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?"

"Gotham police have found the killer of the grandfather and wife."