The two looked at Jester.
The Jester crushed the Red Bat-Ball in front of Red Robin and mumbled, "Whoa! Mine is strawberry flavored, even sweeter than Bruce!"
Mine is chocolate," Red Robin muttered. "If you eat my candy, all your cookies today belong to me.
Red Robin didn't get to eat any cookies.
He had just finished breakfast and was about to savor his four-person serving of cookies when he was taken down by the Orphan's hand-blade.
It was Alfred's signal.
Master, you could choose to sleep for an hour before getting up for work, or you could change clothes now and sleep in the office lounge. Someone from the Wayne family needs to appear at the company today, I don't think that person will be Master Timothy. Perhaps you could ask if anyone else present is willing to go in your stead.
Everyone scrambled away in a rush, Duke even helped Tim back to his bed in his room.
Damian was actually willing to work on behalf of his father, but Bruce didn't dare let him go out alone. He could only stand up with a sense of grievance to change his clothes, while picking up the large plate of Tim's remaining cookies.
A hand swept across the plate, leaving only a single Cookie at the bottom of the pile.
Jason rushed over and then darted away, clutching a large handful of Cookies, even made a face at Damian.
10:00 AM.
Birdie woke Colt up by bouncing around noisily.
Colt lifted his stiff neck, feeling as though his numb, cramped hands no longer belonged to him. He glanced habitually at the Dream Station and suddenly jumped up.
The progress bar lit up!
Timothy is sleeping!
After all, Timothy is only human; he needs to sleep two, three, or four times a day, but most of those are within an hour.
Today is different!
The progress bar was nearly full, proving that Drake had slept for at least three hours. As soon as he woke up, the Dream Messenger would deliver his gift!
Colt prayed: No coffee, no coffee, no coffee..
Throughout the entire afternoon, Colt had been looking forward to it, he breathed a sigh of relief that Drake was finally taking a break.
But as time passed, Colt's anticipation gradually turned into worry.
Drake has had his eyes closed for over eight hours!
Is he asleep?
Or unconscious?
Colt had no heart to continue translating love letters and instead went online to gather intelligence from last night.
Black Mask was fighting Penguin; an entire block in Old Town was trashed. Black Mask was at a pharmacy in the Upper West Side, while Penguin was at a luxury boutique in the Diamond District; it was either explosions or fires.
The Batmen had been busy all night, the emergency room at Gotham was overflowing, with all GCPD officers on leave being recalled for overtime.
Sweetheart Bruce attended a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the library in the morning, had lunch with Stark at noon, visited a water treatment plant in the afternoon, was reportedly attending a charity gala for dolphin conservation in the evening.
Master Wayne was missing in action all day.
Colt took a deep breath and performed ten pages of intense calculations. Once his overheated brain cooled down, he used the Quantum Terminal to contact the Beacon, Duke.
[Ghost: I heard Red Robin is injured.]
[Beacon: Who told you that?!]
So Red Robin is really injured!
Colt typed out a long string of words, only to delete them one by one. With his identity, he didn't seem to have the right to express concern.
[Ghost: Red Robin has no major issues, he was just forced into hibernation. Do you have something to discuss with Red Robin?]
[Ghost: Have the Flying Boots started being modified yet? If not, I've made some minor adjustments to the data, increasing stability by 30%. If used in conjunction with the Kinetic Cape, the speed can be increased by another 20%. You have a professional logistics team now, so modify them yourself based on the blueprints.]
Colt sent over a file package.
[Beacon: Starry-eyed, you are our god! Red Robin happens to have a Kinetic Cape, I'll find a way to ask him to help me try on the shoes!]
[Ghost: Cool nod.]
[Beacon: Last time I was on a rescue mission with Spider-Man, I mentioned the formula for the controllable degradation of Webbing that you spoke of, he said it was very helpful and even gave me the latest version of the Webbing formula parameters.]
Duke sent over a pile of files.
[Beacon: There is also some alien material data from Luthor Lab inside. It was picked up while on a mission in Metropolis; I hope it is useful for your research.]
Colt received the file.
[Beacon: Red Robin wants to meet our equipment designer. Can I forward your contact number to him?]
[Ghost: OK]
The data sent by Duke is very useful, especially the experimental data on Luthor's extraterrestrial materials, which is equivalent to synthetic Vibranium and can enhance the bulletproof capabilities of the uniform. It is a pity that it contains the molecular formula of Kryptonite, so it cannot be synthesized and used indiscriminately.
Colt took a look, saved the file to the backup material library, opened Spider-Man's new webbing formula.
Most of the Teen Titans are ordinary people. Colt has improvised a Webbing Launcher, but it is only used for disarming and binding targets. After all, not everyone is as agile as Spider-Man, able to swing through the air using a few strands of webbing. Batman and the Robins probably could, but Bat-vigilantes generally prefer grappling guns.
Colt was busy until ten o'clock at night; midway through, Birdie pecked the laboratory doorbell three times, nudging him to drink water twice, once for food.
Timothy is finally awake!
At a conservative estimate, he had slept for more than fourteen hours; he was essentially in a coma!
If Duke's emotions hadn't been so stable, Colt would have wanted to call the police and have the GCPD knock on the door at Wayne Manor.
Colt took off his protective suit, cleaned himself up, stepped out of the lab. He caught the pouncing Birdie, gave it a pat, went upstairs to open blind boxes.
He washed his hands with liquid soap, lit some wormwood incense, then held Birdie close, rubbing against him to invite good luck.
Colt finished the rituals before using his mental power to gently touch the treasure chest.
The treasure chest vanished like a waking dream, leaving twelve steaming cups of coffee in its place.
Coffee!
Twelve cups!
Colt's heart didn't even skip a beat; he almost wanted to say, "Just as I thought," Timothy was a walking coffee production line!
On the bright side, at least the coffee cup is cute.
Timothy was somewhat narcissistic; the coffee cup was part of a full set of vigilante merchandise.
A pitch-black Batman saying "You're the best, Red Robin," a Nightwing bunny in a disco outfit doing pole dancing, an extremely fat Red Hood raccoon washing marshmallows on top of a trash can, a bespectacled Red Robin soaring through the sky, a quiet, sleeping blonde/beautiful purple eggplant, an Orphan performing ballet amidst flowers, a Cockroach Robin peeking from the shadows..
Uh, a lifelike Cockroach Robin that looks like it's about to fly out of the cup?
Colt turned the terrifying Cockroach Robin cup around and discovered that the back of the cup also featured a Robin—a group of bean-sized stick figures wielding long blades.
It seems Drake really has an issue with Red Robin.
And, Drake really loves coffee!
Colt raised the white dove cup wearing a tuxedo; the white dove appeared to be the famous Pennyworth, holding a cup of coffee and saying, "Today, the coffee is unlimited."
In addition to those, there is the golden Bat-Beacon cup representing the Beacon, the Detective Red Robin cup, the Coffee Elf cup, which features a little man in a three-piece suit standing on a Brucey-baby, waving documents and shouting, "Work! Get to work!"
The reason they are called coffee elves is because the little figures in three-piece suits have no heads; above their necks is a cup of coffee.
This is evidence that Drake himself is a Coffee Elf.
The last cup was white, without any pattern or design, so normal it was abnormal.
With so many cups of coffee, they couldn't possibly drink them all, so Colt froze the coffee into coffee popsicles.
There weren't enough popsicle molds.
Colt looked at the remaining cup of coffee and drank it with his eyes closed.
He was once again too hyperactive to sleep; he stayed up all night behind Birdie's back, translating every language he could.
A total of 73 languages.
At six in the morning, Colt took photos of all the manuscripts and sent them to his Patron.
The Patron was actually online and replied to the message instantly.
[Patron: I want quality; you don't have to be in such a rush.]
[My pen can write the answers by itself: look at my name.]
[Patron..]
The Patron has received the file package.
Reviewing the translation takes time; if no revision requests are submitted within seven days, the order will be considered completed by default.
Colt slipped back into bed and pretended to sleep, but this time he didn't fall asleep, opening his eyes at the same time as Birdie.
After washing up and returning, Colt discovered that the Patron had actually confirmed the order!
It was too short a time to check; did the Patron confirm it with his eyes closed?
In the next second, Colt received the transfer notification.
A full hundred thousand!
[Patron: Consider the extra as a tip. Mail the handwritten original to this address.]
The address is in the Diamond District of Gotham, in a large penthouse on the sixty-eighth floor, directly across from the Wayne headquarters.
Besides my darling Bruce, are there actually such naive big shots in Gotham?
【My pen can write answers on its own: Darling, it's a rule in Gotham, transfers made via Dream Messenger are non-refundable. 】
[Patron: Darling, so rich and willful. Once I receive the original manuscript, I'll give you a positive review.]
[My pen can write answers on its own: Alright, darling, I'll send it to you today. Wishing you a life full of love, a happy marriage, growing old together, eternal devotion.. may you be sweet and happy for a lifetime.]
Colt received another transfer of ten thousand.
This is wonderful!
This kind of Patron is a true Patron!
This is what a real Client looks like!