An alarm suddenly went off.
The Bat-Signal lit up, Gotham was calling Batman.
The Dynamic Duo left their nest one after another, while Penny stayed behind and Oracle was in charge of information support.
Colt also saw the Bat-Signal.
An explosion occurred in Robinson Park, tremors were also felt at Oak Tree Manor. Robinson Park is right next to the reservoir, so this explosion might affect the water supply.
Colt used bathtubs and buckets to stockpile water for daily use.
Three in the morning.
Colt was pecked awake by a bird.
He reached under his pillow to find the Sound Auxiliary Transceiver, put it on, listened to the sounds around him.
A strange noise from the downstairs window—an intruder?
Colt thought for a moment, then activated the room's virtual projection system, making the projection lie on the bed as if sleeping. He grabbed a slingshot from the nightstand, pulled two empty ink refills from a pen holder, felt around for a few pieces of chalk to shove into his pockets before silently sneaking downstairs.
The dim streetlights shone through the window, illuminating both the window itself and Red Robin as he climbed through it.
The lost Little Red Bird looked like he had just crawled out of a giant Venus flytrap, his wings soaking wet and his head covered in suspicious slime.. A shiny 73 above his head!
Colt poked at the progress bar of Dream Station.
Little Messenger covered his head with his wings and blew a bubble: 【73↑, Hi, good evening. 】
Colt responded silently: Hi, good evening.
Someone's vest fell off!
A glowing ghost head peeked out from the stairwell, waving a greeting to Red Robin as he ducked into the living room.
Red Robin did not respond.
The tip of his left foot had already touched the ground, while his right foot was still stepping on the windowsill; his entire body was frozen in place, as if he had been turned to stone by Medusa.
Colt pulled his head back behind the wall, slowly lowered his slingshot, adjusted the Birdie on his head, a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Hi, good evening, Timothy.. Duck Red Robin!
Birdie tilted its little head, flapped its wings, landed on the railing, its bright yellow beak opening to let out a loud "chirp."
The sound-activated light turned on in response.
Colt of the Bird Gang made his decision.
Forget it.
Colt drifted seriously through the wall and landed in the living room.
He wore a loose, short-sleeved white lab coat as pajamas, with only three buttons fastened. He wore no trousers and no shoes, his medium-length hair draped messily over his shoulders.. Such an outfit might make an ordinary person look disheveled, but he looked as composed as a model on a lingerie runway, his face expressionless as he quietly watched the intruder.
Red Robin thought of little Colt.
Little Colt was a clever, witty, lively child leader. He had once led an entire grade of classmates in a rebellion against their teacher, sending LTP to prison, had also organized his whole class to actively save themselves during a moment of danger, successfully escaping the peril.
Little Colt likes all vigilantes. He once treated the Dynamic Duo to birthday cake and gave apples to Batman and First Robin on Christmas Eve, saying that in the East, it is a tradition to eat apples on Christmas Eve to ensure peace and safety for the coming year.
If it were Little Colt, he would have rushed up upon seeing Red Robin, enthusiastically rummaging through cabinets to find something to serve him.
Colt seemed to have forgotten how to smile now, with only those clear, bright eyes retaining a trace of his childhood self.
Red Robin's feet finally landed on the windowsill as he jumped into the living room, then turned to close the pried-open window, spending half a minute screwing the screws back in.
He was equipped with crossed bandoliers across his chest, his utility belt was covered in small pouches. It would be no surprise if he reached for a screwdriver, or even pulled out shark repellent.
Colt looked up at the living room ceiling, where the hanging 360° panoramic surveillance camera was quietly glowing with a green light, yet it had not issued an alarm for detecting an intruder.
Red Robin finished securing the window and moved past the embarrassment of being caught breaking and entering. Now acting like an elegant gentleman, he spoke in sign language while slowly explaining:
Sorry, I interfered with your home surveillance so as not to draw Mr. Little Reed's attention.
Colt stared at Red Robin.
Colt understood sign language and could also read lips; the Sound Auxiliary Transceiver was the best "hearing aid," allowing him to hear a wider range of frequencies than the human ear.
So, the sound isn't what matters!
What's important is, if a Wayne-made tracker grows on your body during the day, Red Robin will be there to pry open your window at night!
Colt really didn't want to know who was behind the vigilante mask, but Red Robin could see him, knew he couldn't hear outside sounds, was even pushing Timothy's fatigue levels—it was practically like stripping off his disguise right in front of him!
And it's an entire family once they start peeling back the layers!
No wonder Duke became the Beacon, the guardian turned out to be Wayne! Because Timothy is Red Robin! So Batman is Bruce Wayne! Robin is Damian Wayne! And Nightwing is Richard Grayson, the eldest son of Wayne, who works as a police officer in Bl!
Were the two girls from yesterday perhaps Jester and Orphan? No wonder their movements were so decisive and cool!
Such a simple truth has gone unnoticed until now, surely because baby Bruce's persona is worlds apart from Batman's!
Then, could Red Hood be the legendary second son of Wayne, Jason Todd, who is supposedly dead?
Colt mentally connected the dots while picking up Timothy's vest, shaking it out, helping Red Robin put it on.
He said nothing, merely nodding toward Red Robin, then tucked the slingshot into his pajama pocket, led the man into his study, turned to prepare things to entertain his guest.
A normal person wouldn't bring a masked intruder in a bodysuit into their study, let alone leave him in the study all alone.
Red Robin believed he only needed five seconds to ensure this study would hold no more secrets from him.
He looked at the messy yet orderly study, correcting himself: perhaps it would take five minutes.
With a single glance, Red Robin saw books in over ten different languages, most of them old, there were even bamboo slips, turtle shells, bones, knotted strings?
Of course, this was by no means the study of a linguist. High piles of physics journals were stacked in the corners, half-finished mathematical formulas were pasted on the walls, sticky notes covered in various symbols were layered one upon another, forming a unique wallpaper. Exploded view diagrams of drones were scattered on the floor, marked with bird claw prints..
The master of the study liked to record inspiration whenever it struck, ensuring that no matter where they stood, they could reach out and grab a pen and paper.
Maybe it will take five hours.
Red Robin muttered silently, casually scattering a bunch of surveillance cameras.
Birdie perched on the computer monitor, tilting its head as it observed the big red bird. Birdie took off in a wobbly flight, precisely picking up the surveillance devices scattered in every corner and dropping them one by one at Red Robin's feet.
Red Robin looked at the bird before him.
The North American Robin, also known as the American Robin, is about 25 centimeters long, which is considered large among its kind. An adult male is entirely red, with only a black ring around the eyes, a crest on its head, very brilliant plumage.
No matter how you looked at it, this bird seemed perfectly normal, aside from being a bit chubby.
If I'm not mistaken, you are our third-grade nature observation assignment. I get credit for finding the bird egg, I even contributed my pocket money for the incubator," Red Robin whispered to the bird, "Besides, someone once promised me that what is mine is his, what is his is mine, so I have the right to leave my own eyes and ears here.
Birdie tilted its head, its black bead-like eyes looking at Red Robin with disapproval.
Birds are clever Gotham birds; they can fetch parts for their masters and know that external surveillance is never a good thing.
Protecting the home is the bird's responsibility!
Colt walked in carrying a first-aid kit and two new towels, one dry and one wet.
He swept the manuscripts off the chair and invited Red Robin to sit. Then, he stroked Birdie, who was so alert he was practically bristling, gently lifted him, letting his beak touch Red Robin's shoulder.
This person is a friend.
Birdie tilted its head, looking at Colt, then at Red Robin. The bird weighed the situation for two seconds before taking the initiative to jump onto Red Robin's shoulder, nuzzling against his face.
Red Robin couldn't help but laugh.
Colt watched the Big Red Bird and the Little Red Bird nuzzling against each other, a smile appearing in his eyes as well.
Red Robin is known by the people of Gotham as Little Red Bird. As for Birdie, he is already nine years old; by bird years, he is actually the Big Red Bird.
Colt asked Big Red Bird to look after Little Red Bird, then turned around to prepare the tea.
There were no extra cups in the kitchen, it would take too much time to go rummaging through the pantry, so Colt chose to use a coffee cup left behind by Drake to brew a cup of black tea.
How many spoonfuls of sugar in the black tea?
Wait, people in Gotham don't drink things of unknown origin, vigilantes must be even more cautious!
Colt looked at the steaming black tea and the homemade finger biscuits, thought for a moment, then pulled out a bottle of Wayne brand purified water and some Wayne brand chocolate biscuits.
In Gotham, Wayne products can be trusted.
Colt returned to the study carrying a tray, only to find that Red Robin was not treating his injuries, but was instead playing with Birdie in front of the bookshelf.
Birdie pecked at Red Robin's finger, flapped its wings, landed on Colt's shoulder, tilting its head and chirping as if it were making a complaint.
Red Robin turned around, holding a timer shaped like a mechanical Joker hugging a balloon; the small display on the balloon was lit up with the numbers: [220].
A very.. unique toy.
Red Robin commented, then accidentally snapped off the Joker's arm.
A crowbar popped out from the severed arm, smashing the Joker's head into eight pieces, a mechanical bird emerged from the blooming head, its mouth wide open as it let out the Joker's laughter.
Birdie was so startled that its feathers puffed out, it flew over to peck at the mechanical bird that was making noise.
Colt pushed the messy books on the table aside, set down the tray, picked up the Joker, forcefully pressed the laughing little bird back into place.
The Joker's blooming head gradually closed, the crowbar returned to its original position, the arms embraced the green balloon once more as the numbers on the small screen jumped to [219].
It was just a countdown timer.
Red Robin calculated in his heart: 219.. In 219 days, it will be April 16th of next year. Exactly the tenth anniversary of the Oak Tree Manor massacre, that day is also Easter.
This date was far too significant, even the appearance of the countdown timer was signaling something.
With Colt's abilities, he could make the Joker's head explode, or even blow up the whole of Arkham. Dr. Joseph is also a mad scientist; given the research projects he has completed, he would have the full capability to destroy the world if he so desired.
Red Robin didn't dare think too deeply about what would happen when time hit zero. But he asked nothing, his gaze falling upon that cup of black tea.
To be precise, it was the Red Robin cup filled with black tea.
Red Robin couldn't take his eyes off it.
He had seen this cup in his dreams! This was absolutely his dream coffee cup!
Red Robin forgot Batman's teachings, forgot the common sense that people in Gotham shouldn't drink things from strangers.
He took a sip of black tea from his dream cup, then looked at the North American Robin that had jumped onto Colt's head.
The chubby Birdie tilted its head, with a ring of black around its eyes that made it look like it was wearing a Domino Mask, it chirped twice at him, covering its mouth with its wings.