“Ownership?” Timothy said thoughtfully. “What is bought is the food, not the plate. It is the same with the study room; legally, I only retain the right of use.”
Colt nodded.
Timothy understood. "So, you only need to buy Gotham, then you can live a normal life."
Colt gave him a look as if he were a patient.
Timothy raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to?"
Colt shook his head, then nodded, wrote on the paper.
Thanks, no need, I'm used to it.
Timothy frowned.
He thought Colt was calling out to him for help; it seemed he had misunderstood.
Colt lowered his head and ate his meal seriously.
It wasn't that he was ungrateful, but rather that Timothy's friendliness made him feel uneasy.
Inviting someone to do group projects, exchanging food and treating them to meals—that could be called being friends. Is it going too far to buy out Gotham just so Ghost can live a normal life? Even if Timothy has a sense of curiosity and is interested in a Ghost that only he can see, it shouldn't make him lose his mind like someone under a curse.
Does the dream bond really not come with a curse? Could it be that the curse is too weak and he failed to detect it? Tony knows the Sorcerer Supreme; should he ask him to help find the Sorcerer Supreme to give Timothy a proper examination?
The best way would be to解除 the binding; after all, Timothy only produces coffee. He doesn't even like drinking coffee, so he wouldn't feel a single bit of heartache over losing a coffee production line.
But..
Colt glanced at Timothy.
After the binding was released, Timothy could no longer see him, just like the other 7 billion people on Earth.
Maybe, just observe a little longer..
Colt ate his meal in a distracted state when his Hearing Aid suddenly issued a warning.
Low-level warning: a dispute and potential casualties may occur nearby.
This is a new feature added after the Friday shooting incident: the hearing aid links to the Quantum Terminal, synchronizing its audio with the Gotham big data model. When the probability of a crisis occurring exceeds 50%, the AI, Watchin, will issue a warning.
Colt quickly finished his last bite of food and moved to the window to look down at the hall below.
The International Canteen is quite popular at school, the hall is almost filled with people.
Amidst the noisy chatter, people were passionately discussing the tragic incident involving the football team on Friday.
The quality of Gothamites has always been concerning; not many people were grieving or praying for the fallen students; at most, they were worrying about the upcoming high school football tournament.
People were all complaining about why the killer chose to act on a Friday; if it had been a Monday, they could have at least secured two days off for everyone.
They were also talking about the killer's gun.
My God! That's a military-grade automatic assault rifle, the kind only special forces are equipped with. An ordinary street Black Gang wouldn't be able to get their hands on such high-quality gear!
With the three deaths and eight injuries caused by this gun, Gotham High can claim the throne in the school section of the underground forums this year!
Of course, that's only counting middle and primary schools.
Gotham University, that breeding ground for Arkham's elite, wouldn't dare compare to Gotham High. They were afraid of provoking some psycho big shot into blowing up their school building during class.
They argued over which was more serious: the homemade grenade launcher for Coventry Middle School, the library explosion at Skarlan Middle School, the mass poisoning at Burnley Primary School, or the tragedy involving the Gotham High football team.
The fight broke out immediately.
Plates and forks suddenly went flying throughout the canteen as more and more hot-tempered teenagers were drawn into the fray, it quickly escalated into a massive brawl.
Gotham's big data warning was quite accurate; if there was no intervention, there would truly be casualties below.
Colt aimed his slingshot at the smoke detector!
Timothy threw a smoke bomb!
Amidst the billowing thick smoke, the fire sprinklers hissed and sprayed water, drenching the heated heads below, as the huddled crowd screamed and cursed while scattering.
Timothy grabbed his backpack and jumped onto Colt's skateboard: "Let's go."
A skateboard isn't meant for carrying passengers.
Colt did not refuse Timothy's request for a lift on the skateboard; instead, he leaned forward, brushing past the school security guard who had rushed into the canteen.
It felt good to do something bad together.. or rather, something good, even if the exit looked a lot like fleeing in panic.
Colt came to a stop and turned around, just in time to meet Timothy's nostalgic gaze, he tentatively raised his hand.
Clap!
A crisp clapping sound rang out.
Colt felt his palms go numb and curled his fingers.
So high-fives require this much force? It's completely different from clapping!
"Pleasure working with you," Timothy laughed.
Colt's eyes also curved into a smile.
Timothy sat under the tree, using a laptop to process surveillance footage.
Colt tapped his feet to slide in front of the vending machine, pulled out a coin, calculated the angle in his mind, aimed it at the coin slot, then pulled back his slingshot to tap out a code with a piece of chalk.
The Ghost field can't touch anything, but as long as one doesn't lose heart, there are always more solutions than difficulties.
Two cans of soda rolled down.
The pull-tab was violently pried open, saving Colt a lot of trouble.
Colt returned to the tree with two cans of cold drinks.
Tim stopped typing on the computer and was taking a phone call.
Colt clinked the drink against the back of his hand.
Timothy was startled for a moment, but he took the drink and nodded to him.
Colt tapped his phone to check the time; the time he had agreed to meet Mr. CK was approaching. He held the phone to his ear to signal to Timothy that he would be in touch by phone, waved his hand, then sped toward the school's back gate on his skateboard.
The skateboard suddenly felt heavy.
Colt looked back.
Timothy's feet were as if welded to the skateboard; he held a laptop under his arm and a phone in his mouth, stuffing a drink into the side pocket of his backpack, freeing one hand to grab his phone, finally freeing his mouth to speak.
I'm going to the back door too, it's on the way.
Colt wanted to ask: How did you know I was going to the back door?
But using pen and paper was too much trouble, so he decided against it.
Superman Clark Kent swore that the stereotypes outsiders held about Gotham were becoming increasingly severe, that every Gothamite should bear some responsibility for it.
He was just trading a second-hand professional camera with someone, not some dangerous product from Luthor Tech, yet the buyer insisted on placing the camera "at the back door of Gotham High, behind the seventeenth tree from the left, in a hole in the wall concealed by imitation brick panels."
Clark sighed, then saw the Bat Family's injured bird emerging from behind the wall.
Good afternoon, Clark.
Timothy greeted Clark with a smile, looking as elegant as if he were at a banquet rather than crouching on a wall.
“Hi, Tim.”
Clark instinctively struck a pose to catch the kitten, only to meet the young Bat's disapproving gaze.
Oh, he really is just like Batman.
Clark awkwardly lowered his hands.
He was familiar with every little bird in the Bat Family, but this one, who looked quiet and well-behaved, was the most difficult to deal with, he already owed him twenty-seven favors. The terrifying part was that he had accepted every single one of those favors with complete conviction.
Timothy acted nothing like someone with fractured ribs, vaulting down from the wall with lightness.
Thank you for bringing the medicine specifically for me. Things haven't been peaceful in Gotham lately; I'm truly glad to see you standing here safely.
Don't mention it, I was just passing by..
Clark handed the Kryptonian vial to Timothy, then looked toward where the camera was hidden, his voice trailing off.
The camera in the hole in the wall had disappeared!
He had clearly been focusing over there, yet he had somehow failed to notice the movement just now; the camera had simply vanished like that.
Clark raised his hand to grab his glasses.
“Clark, this is Gotham. Anything can happen in Gotham.” Timothy stepped in front of Clark and held up a number.
Twenty-seven.
Clark thought of how he still owed Timothy twenty-seven favors, silently pushed his glasses back into place.
Alright, alright, this is Gotham, so anything can happen here, but does your Batman dad know you've made some invisible new friends?
Timothy gave Clark a twenty-six sign.
Clark smiled: "You're welcome. I'll keep your secret. If Batman doesn't ask, I won't say anything."
Clark Kent lived up to being a Metropolis native; a camera described as being in eighty percent condition was indeed in eighty percent condition. Aside from some scratches on the casing, the lens was well-maintained, even the camera bag was original. He even hand-wrote a manual using a comic strip style to introduce tips and tricks for capturing action shots, randomly included a roll of new film.
Colt raised the camera, aiming it at Timothy, who was talking to Clark Kent.
Tim's windsurfing board didn't quite hit the mark; he had been acting all formal ever since he first met Kent.
Not in a derogatory sense, but rather the kind of composure one maintains when facing a respected senior to show proper respect.
A reporter from Metropolis certainly wouldn't be a senior to Master Wayne, but Superman could be a senior to Red Robin.
Colt stared at Kent, convinced those glasses must be alien technology capable of distorting human perception.
Superman is a journalist! A journalist who can write exclusive interviews about Superman! A journalist who loves posting selfies! A journalist who asks Batman for exclusive interviews to use as cover!
Colt's expression gradually turned serious.
What is Superman doing in Gotham?
Wayne has already expanded his branch offices into Metropolis to a scale that is nearly surpassing the headquarters; does Superman still want to provoke Batman?
Batman belongs to Gotham!