Timothy stood under the magnificent chandelier. The sadness in his eyes, the smile at the corners of his mouth, his tone of voice were all as perfect as the golden ratio calculated through a formula, making him look like an exquisite doll.
Joseph went to see Bruce to ask for research funding, while Colt was hiding in a corner eating from the tray Joseph had given him, when he happened to stumble upon Timothy talking to the chairman of Drake Enterprises.
Outside the spotlight, Timothy's gaze was cold and sharp, while a gentle and polite, hypocritical curve remained fixed on the corners of his mouth. He spoke at an unhurried pace, easily breaking down the other person's defenses.
The pot-bellied middle-aged man said with a grim face, "You think Wayne is some kind of good person? Don't be fooled by his facade. Look at his eldest son who left home, then look at his deceased second son; Wayne Manor is nothing more than a blood-sucking castle."
Timothy wore a smile, looking completely harmless: "Has it not been you, Uncle, who has been sucking the blood from the Drake family all this time?"
Six months later, Colt heard that Timothy had reclaimed his father's company, regained controlling interest in Drake Industries, become the new chairman.
"Is Philmarine still alive?" Colt asked skeptically.
Oh, God, I am a philanthropist; how could I possibly soil my soul for a fool?" Timothy shook his head exaggeratedly, then rubbed his chin and answered in a low voice, "He's bankrupt, wandering around the East End.
Oh, Black-hearted Duck.
Colt thought to himself.
"You don't look like you're thinking very highly of it." Timothy handed Colt a basket used for table decoration, which was filled with Colt's favorite delicacies.
No, I am praising the kind duck.
Colt accepted the fruit basket without any formality; after all, once the banquet was over, the food would be divided among the employees, any leftovers would be sent to the orphanage.
He was considered a family member of the staff, so it was only natural for the young boss to pack some food for him.
A commotion broke out downstairs as Red Hood's subordinates rushed into the banquet hall, announcing their intention to kidnap tonight's guest of honor. The appearance of Armory seemed to be outside of Red Hood's plan.
Jason's face darkened as he tried to kill Armory with a glare.
Armory, acting like an opera singer, loudly accused the ungrateful Jason: "What's wrong with our boss? He even conquered the Iceberg Lounge for you, so why do you still insist on going back to be some young master Wayne!"
*Pfft*
Someone lost their composure and couldn't hold back their laughter.
Dick hugged his grimacing little brother tightly, burying his face in the boy's shoulder, his voice trembling: "Oh my God! Where is Batman? Call Batman, quick! Don't let the big bad Red Hood snatch our Jason away!"
Batman was being held at gunpoint and could not break free under the watchful eyes of the crowd.
Colt began eating watermelon.
Timothy is taking photos.
Armory personally tied Jason up, tying him with a red ribbon in a bow.
“Do you have any idea how much our boss loves you? When you went home, his helmet was almost soaked through with tears! He was so angry he spent the whole night sawing off eight heads! He even went to Arkham day after day and broke the Joker's legs!”
"Shut up!" Jason said through gritted teeth.
He only knocked off the heads of eight life-sized Batman collectibles from the Penguin's collection! Red Hood did indeed go to Arkham during the day to break both of Joker's legs, but that was only because he was too excited to sleep! However, when he came back and heard Batman telling Alfred that he hadn't killed Joker and was more composed than before, he almost went back to smash Joker's head!
Wait," Bruce stepped forward, his expression looking exactly like an angry father whose daughter (son) had been swindled by a blonde. "Take me with you, I need to have a word with Red Hood!
Jason and Bruce were taken away together; Dick also wanted to follow to see his brother's boyfriend, but Bruce ordered him to stay behind.
Colt finished eating the watermelon.
Timothy stopped taking photos; he was handling the surveillance in the hall, racing against time to upload the valuable surveillance footage to the Red Robin cloud for storage.
Timothy had a smile on his lips, looking a bit terrifying.
Lucius came over and took away the terrifying Black-hearted Duck.
Master Wayne needed to step out to appease the guests, while Colt, having eaten his fill and taken his share, left while clutching Birdie, stopping by the Iceberg Lounge on his way to inspect his Vibranium.
The statue hiding the Vibranium had been repaired, the Vibranium was stuffed back into the statue's belly. Perhaps because a final polishing step was still missing, Colt still couldn't touch the Vibranium.
Colt was in a great mood.
Although he hadn't gotten his hands on any Vibranium yet, upon waking up, there was a new treasure chest blind box in the Dream Station.
Drake had a good night's sleep last night, in his dreams, his favorite was finally no longer coffee or signed corporate documents, but two pieces of imperial purple jadeite raw stone.
Top-tier glass-grade, a value befitting Wayne's status.
Unfortunately, the emerald was a bit small, only about the size of an eyeball, so it could only be made into cufflinks or a ring setting.
Colt closed the velvet box containing the emerald.
He has been well-off lately and is in no hurry to cash out.
Overnight, the romance between Red Hood and Wayne's second son became a sensation in Gotham.
According to insiders, the legal representative of the Iceberg Lounge has been changed to Jason Todd Wayne, leaving Penguin crying his eyes out in Arkham.
The media has already swarmed the gates of Wayne Manor and Wayne Headquarters. Bruce Wayne has refused to comment, Dick Grayson returned to Bl overnight, Timothy Drake only responds with smiles and lawyer's letters, the reporters can't find a single trace of his adopted daughter, Cassandra..
There are two exceptions.
Facing the reporters' relentless pursuit, Duke scratched his head and answered awkwardly, "I'm not sure, that's their business.. uh, they get along quite well.. Jason is great, Red Hood is a good person, too."
Damian pulled the flustered Duke away and declared to the cameras, "Todd is absolutely never getting married!"
His 1.37-meter stature made him look three point seven meters tall right now!
Colt bit into the cake he had packed up last night and changed the channel.
Metropolis TV was also broadcasting the Wayne event. Facing questions from reporters, Luthor curled his lip and said, "I have no interest in any of the Waynes' relationship statuses, unless the one they're involved with is Superman."
Luthor's pursuit of Superman is far too blatant!
Colt changed to another channel.
The New York channel was also broadcasting the Wayne saga. Stark responded on Twitter: "He's not my son, so why ask me? He's an adult; he can talk to whoever he wants. Whether it's Red Hood or Green Hood, as long as a son of Wayne isn't talking to Ghost, it has nothing to do with me!"
The Ghost Tony mentioned seemed to have a specific meaning.
Colt handed the remote to Birdie, opened a secure line on his phone, logged into Ghost's account, contacted the Armory.
Armory is still alive.
He said he accidentally sprained his hand and found it inconvenient to take on missions lately, he also mentioned that the Vibranium had already been transported away by Red Robin.
Red Robin was very quiet; the last message on the dialogue interface was still from Tuesday.
Beep
A car horn honked outside.
Colt leaned forward to look, a flashy blue supercar was parked at the entrance. Timothy was standing in front of the car, waving to him through the iron gate.
Hey, Colt, let's go to school together!
It's only 7:20!
Colt glanced back at the wall clock, commanded the smart home system to open the iron gate, climbed directly out of the dining room window.
Timothy changed into a white hooded casual jacket over a light blue T-shirt. He didn't bother to style his hair, letting his light bangs fall at the sides of his face. Unlike the feeling he gave off last night in the white shirt and slim-fit black vest, he didn't look like a high-society elite now, but rather a high schooler full of youthful vigor.
Colt hadn't changed into clothes for going out yet; he was wearing a loose pajama T-shirt with shorts, wasn't even wearing shoes.
One benefit of being Ghost was that even after running across the wet lawn in the rain all night, his feet hadn't gotten a single drop of water on them.
Reason told Timothy to analyze the impact of the Ghost field on the natural environment in a state of spatial overlap, but in reality, his mind was completely blank.
Colt was wearing a red headband on his head, likely a leftover decoration from Christmas, with a pair of small deer antlers on it.
Timothy stared at the little antlers poking out from the silver hair.
The hearing aid already looked a bit like elven earrings, now with the antlers, how could a boy be so.. so.. so much like a fairy tale?
Colt followed Timothy's gaze and touched his head, removing the headband he used to keep his hair out of his face while washing.
It's normal to wear a headband with long hair, right? In school, there are male classmates who wear small braids with ribbons, it's not rare to see people wearing skirts; besides, it's not like Red Robin hasn't used disguises as girls for investigations before?
Colt shoved the phone right in front of Timothy's eyes.
Have you had breakfast?
Timothy didn't eat breakfast.
Wayne Manor was surrounded by reporters, Drake Manor was no exception. He hadn't come home last night; he stayed in a safehouse across from the company, Duke had helped him bring his backpack out.
Colt brewed a cup of coffee for Timothy using Red Robin's special coffee mug, placed the sandwich intended for lunch at school in front of him, then tied on an apron and took two eggs out of the refrigerator.
How do you want them cooked?
Colt turned back while cooking, asking with his eyes.
Timothy, holding a coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other, leaned against the glass door between the dining room and the kitchen, his expression dazed. "Anything is fine with me."
Then just fry whatever you like.
Colt likes his steak medium-rare, with charred edges and a slightly molten center.
Timothy liked it too.
Perhaps if it were replaced with a well-done, charred egg, he would say he liked it too. After all, when emotions are intense enough, it's all about the feeling.
“The Socioeconomics assignment has been handed in to Mr. Robert. We are the fifth group to present, which is the last group. There are club activities today, so remember to bring your camera.”
Timothy put the tray in the dishwasher and washed his special coffee cup on his own.
Colt nimbly remade three sandwiches and put them in the lunch box, a full eight of them, then added the fruit packed from last night.
"My private study has a new refrigerator," Timothy said, taking a Coffee Bat Popsicle out of the fridge.
You've already had a cup of coffee this morning, it was black coffee with no sugar and no milk!
Colt exchanged a Bat Lollipop for the Coffee Bat Popsicle in Timothy's hands, then pulled out a double-layered thermos, placed the Coffee Bat Popsicle inside, poured coffee ice cubes into the gaps, filled the other layer with his favorite frozen crystal grapes.
Timothy bit into his apple-flavored Bat Lollipop, watching Colt leap over three steps at once and dance his way up the stairs.
He was still as lively as he was when he was a child.
It's a relief that suffering didn't leave him to wither away alone in the darkness!
Three minutes later.
Colt, with his hair tied in a low ponytail, had changed into a T-shirt and trousers, layered with a white lab coat, wore sneakers on his feet. Carrying his backpack, he hopped down the stairs in a few quick steps and snapped his fingers upon landing.
The dormant skateboard woke up and unfolded, sliding automatically toward Colt.
Colt stuffed the lunch box and the thermos into his backpack, slung the bag across his back, stepped onto the skateboard, tilted his head to signal Timothy to get on.