Ghost was nowhere to be seen in the frame, but a pen appeared out of thin air, piercing Huss's right hand that was holding a gun, releasing an electric current.
Two seconds later, the pen vanished, leaving a charred hole in Huss's palm.
If Ghost wanted to, he could have easily shifted the position of his release, causing the hole to appear in Huss's heart or another fatal part of his body.
From this perspective, Ghost does not disregard life; in fact, he is quite gentle.
An Iron Man-style hoverboard, suspected to be powered by an Arc Reactor.
Stark sells green energy, but they never sell miniature Arc Reactors, especially the new models that utilize new elements.
Whether they are imitations or the real thing, they are all important clues.
Author's Note:
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Chapter 4
Timothy rubbed his chin, recalling another clue.
He saved the inspection report to the Ghost Files, hid the files in Red Robin's workspace with several extra locks, then stood up to head to the grand study.
In the large study, besides the books that reached the ceiling, several rows of custom-made company notebooks were also arranged on the bookshelves near the door.
Softcover, hardcover, cowhide, goatskin, felt..
Timothy's fingers slid across the spines of books of various colors before he pulled out a B5-sized brown goatskin notebook.
182mm × 257mm, the size was correct.
Slightly yellowed blank inner pages, the paper color was correct.
The date in the upper right corner and the header pattern matched the Wayne logo.
The pendant on the ribbon bookmark..
Timothy touched the rose imprint on the leather pendant; Ghost's bookmark pendant pattern wasn't a flower, but seemed to be the clock tower?
The rose is exclusive to the Chairman, while the bell tower belongs to the research department.
Timothy thought as he reached for one of Bruce's signature pens from the desk, filling in the contents of the Ghost notebook according to his memory.
As for the half-page of calculation formulas, Timothy wasn't sure if his memory was entirely accurate, because he could only tell that they were physics calculations related to energy containment.
As for the other half-page of the observation report, Timothy remembered it clearly, including that final string of inexplicable numbers.
185，205，246？
Hi, Tim.
Stephanie walked upstairs arm in arm with Cassandra, greeting them loudly, while Cassandra also raised the shopping bag in her hand and gave it a shake.
The university started later than high school, but it was almost time for them to return from shopping for supplies for the new semester.
Timothy bit his pen and slowly raised his hand to wave, his feet continuing to move toward his own room as if he were floating.
He wanted to take advantage of his clear memory to create a profile for Ghost.
The Batman portrait software was definitely the best profiling software. Timothy created a new file, yet he felt at a loss as to where to begin.
Tim's memory had always been excellent; although he didn't possess hyperthymesia equivalent to a camera, it was still quite remarkable.
However, the Ghost in Timothy's mind was covered by a layer of frosted glass, becoming blurred and indistinct; he could only vaguely remember that the person was very beautiful, with dazzling silver hair and violet eyes.
A gentle, melancholy violet.
Timothy moved the color picker back and forth across the palette, but he still couldn't find the violet from his memory. Seeing the RGB value box, his heart skipped a beat, he entered a string of numbers.
Red 185, Green 205, Blue 246.
The color froze at ice blue.
Timothy used his phone's front camera to observe himself.
His eyes were exactly ice blue.
..
Knock, knock
The door clicked open, Stephanie's head popped in, shaking a can of iced coffee in her hand.
Hey, Tim, five minutes of heart-to-heart in exchange for coffee, you in?
Timothy rubbed his throbbing head. "I do, thank you. At your service anytime, your majesty."
Stephanie bounced into the room, pressing an iced coffee against Timothy's forehead, sighed with pity, using an exaggerated expression and tone: "Oh, poor little duckling, finally driven mad by Bruce and that demon brat."
Timothy smiled kindly. "If you still want the enrollment form that Cassandra already signed, please rephrase that."
"The world's greatest detective, please accept this coffee, blessed by the god of coffee itself." Stephanie's expression shifted as she opened the coffee tin and presented it to him with both hands in a fawning gesture.
It's the second one." Timothy downed half a can of coffee in one gulp, pulled a folder from the cabinet, glanced through it, handed it to Stephanie. "The information has already been filled out for you. Page 1, page 7, page 13—there are three places in total that require your signature. Contact the liaison in Hong Kong before you fax it; he will be responsible for receiving and entering it into the university's records. The university's detailed information was sent to your email a week ago—the one ending in 05. I'm guessing you haven't opened it once during the entire summer vacation.
"Oh, Timmy, why do you always know what I want?" Stephanie picked Timothy up and spun him around in a circle.
Timothy didn't struggle at all, answering lazily, "Cassandra is studying in Hong Kong. She enjoys Chinese food and has adapted well to the life there; perhaps she'll stay in Hong Kong just like Dick stayed in Hong Kong, you are learning Chinese, searching through the University of Hong Kong's admissions brochures, checking how much sponsorship is needed for direct admission.. You two are inseparable, aren't you?"
Stephanie let go of Timothy and rolled her eyes. "Little control freak, you're a bit scary. But I really love you."
Timothy curled up on the sofa, sipping his coffee contentedly.
I love you too, Cassandra too. Just a reminder, although they will welcome you whenever you decide to enroll because of the new laboratory, Cassandra will definitely be leaving before the start of the semester, so you had better fax your enrollment materials over within this week.
"Aren't you afraid that I'll just do this on a whim and won't be able to stick with it?" Stephanie hadn't decided yet whether she wanted to go to Hong Kong.
“So what? You're just going to school, not joining the League of Assassins. If you can't stick with it, just consider it a trip.” Timothy tossed the empty can into the trash, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt as he spoke. “There's a set of keys to a villa in Mid-Levels, Hong Kong, in the file. The house has been slightly modified to facilitate your nighttime operations.”
"I should say thank you," Stephanie muttered.
Thank you, you're welcome." Timothy clasped his hands together in a steeple, leaning his upper body forward as he looked at Stephanie earnestly: "Red Robin has grown up; he will always have to fly solo, so don't be too reluctant to leave Gotham. Gotham is our home. Bruce is here, no matter where we go, home will always welcome us back. The basement of the new safehouse is equipped with a quantum teleportation channel, an unreleased upgraded version that has been personally tested by Batman. You can attend your classes in Hong Kong as usual and return to Gotham for night patrols on the weekends.
Stephanie clutched her chest. "Tim, dear Tim, I would water a demon brat's observation plant with boiling water and burn his literature homework for you."
Timothy's lips twitched. "That's not necessary."
"It is necessary, very necessary." Because Damian had insulted her intelligence! She had wanted to take action long ago! Cassandra would protect her from being assassinated by Damian, she was going to Hong Kong in a few days!
Stephanie's eyes darted around, realizing there was one more person in the house who needed punishment.
And Bruce—I'm going to mix carrot juice into his bedtime red wine. You're so busy, yet you even remember to help me look for schools, while Bruce won't even write a recommendation letter for me.
It seems you were the one who told him, 'If you mention school again, I'm going to volunteer at Arkham,' and besides," Timothy, the member of the family who was the most supportive of Bruce outside of Alfred, Damian, Cassandra, Alfred the cat, Bat-dog, Bat-cow, added, "the money spent this time all came from Bruce's account.
Fine, I'll hold myself back from mocking him for three days.
Not mocking Bruce for three days was quite a challenge for a troublemaker.
Timothy shrugged, noticing Stephanie's gaze fixed on the desktop; he instinctively wanted to raise his hand, but forcibly suppressed the urge.
Stephanie picked up the papers on the table and shook them out, then looked at the faceless portrait on the computer screen, asking curiously, "Are you profiling your new friend?"
Timothy asked nonchalantly, 'Why friends?'
Stephanie laughed. "You didn't draw his face, but you marked him as [Beautiful], with eyes of [gentle, melancholic violet], lips the color of [pink rose petals], long [shimmering silver] hair, a [fashionable] style.. Uh, Tim, your portrait is far too warm. I thought a detective's first glance at someone would be to observe bone structure, face shape, eyebrow shape, lip shape, nose shape, mouth shape, so on, to focus on the personal items that represent one's status, rather than calling ill-fitting clothes 'fashionable.' Truly fashionable people wouldn't pair a loose top with stacked trousers; that's a very shortening outfit."
Timothy looked thoughtful. 'You have a point. This is clearly a form of mental interference. A bio-silver.. perhaps he carries the bloodline of a magical succubus.'
Stephanie added mischievously, "Maybe you should question your own orientation."
It's not just a matter of sexual orientation; it's a Ghost that only I can see. No surveillance footage can capture him. I can see him, yet I can't remember his appearance." Timothy tapped the paper in Stephanie's hand. "At today's opening ceremony, while I was giving my speech on stage, he was sitting in the audience writing an observation report about me.
I think he's your admirer." Stephanie became a bit more serious and said solemnly, "Just like Bruce, you have a knack for attracting strange creatures.
"Impossible, I'm the most normal one among all the Robins," Timothy said with a look of disapproval.
"I'm the most normal Robin because I've been a Robin for the shortest amount of time," Stephanie said proudly.
Timothy could not argue.
Stephanie declared that she had won the title of the most normal Robin, then continued her critique: "Ghost's evaluation of you was very gentle."
Timothy didn't think the description of being well-groomed was gentle, besides, the other party had underestimated him by a centimeter.
Stephanie looked Timothy over; he had removed his jacket and tie but was still wearing his waistcoat.
“If it were me, I would use powder the face and anoint the head, or be dressy or poffish, but he went for a more neutral sleek-haired and creamy-faced look. By the way, isn't your concealer a bit thick?”
Timothy leaned back warily.
To hide the bruises left by that demon brat, because any injury to Young Master Wayne's face would affect the stock price.
No, it seems that since Bruce came back, you've been wearing makeup at home too.
Stephanie leaned in, pulling out makeup remover pads from somewhere and swiping them across Timothy's face with lightning speed.
Hey, Steph, stop! Men have the right to wear makeup too!
Timothy tried to dodge.
He failed to jump up.
Cassandra appeared behind him suddenly, as if using a ninja technique, firmly pressing down on his shoulders and pinning him into the chair.
"Don't move, I'll keep it a secret for you," Cassandra said.
Timothy met Cassandra's worried gaze and closed his eyes, muttering, "Fine, so that's the real purpose of that coffee can."
"Tim, we have to know what you're hiding, otherwise we won't be able to leave the house in peace," Stephanie said.
The exquisite and elegant Wayne, who had been hiding under Stephanie, revealed his true self: Timothy, pale-faced and with colorless lips, sporting heavy dark circles under his eyes.
"Tim, how long has it been since you last slept!" Stephanie exclaimed.
Thanks." Timothy took the wet towel from Cassandra and buried his face in it, muttering, "I just slept two days ago.
Author's Note:
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