Timothy held the sunflower, a symbol of victory, waved it in front of Colt's eyes: "We cleared the level; we're exempt from Socioeconomics with a perfect score."
Colt found the swaying sunflower a bit annoying, as it interfered with his ability to look Timothy in the eyes.
The trophy of victory, half of it belongs to you." Timothy placed the sunflower into Colt's hands and closed the laptop on the table. Seeing that Colt was still looking at him, he tilted his head and asked, "What is it?
"I'm looking at myself in your eyes." Colt shook his head gently, squinting as he caught the scent of the sunflower.
It was the first time he had been carried to victory by someone else, it felt great.
Timothy stuffed the laptop into the custom camera bag, casually tossed the scrap paper from the adjacent table into the trash can to create a blind spot for the hallway surveillance, then quickly pushed open the window to take a shortcut.
Colt kicked off the ground, followed him through the wall, with a sunflower in his mouth, raised his camera to capture evidence of Drake climbing out the window.
Red Robin's superhero landing was as standard as ever.
Colt didn't ride a skateboard; instead, he ran forward like a real person.
The club meeting location was almost on the other side of the entire campus from the Socioeconomics classroom; if he didn't hurry, he would be late.
Timothy thought that being late didn't matter as long as he sponsored some activity funds; even if he only held a nominal position without participating in activities, someone would help him complete all the records and secure an excellence certificate.
However, watching the white figure running ahead, Timothy remembered how Colt loved excitement when he was a child. With a single wave of his hand, a crowd of subordinates would respond; he would be wherever the action was, so much so that he would have loved to squat at the scene of a clash between Two-Face and the Riddler just to eat watermelon.
Colt couldn't speak or communicate with anyone during those years; he must have been feeling incredibly stifled.
Timothy also started running.
Club activities were just so-so, especially for a club like the Photography Club that required members to provide their own equipment. When everyone gathered together, they were either showing off whose camera was better or who had upgraded to a new lens, or bragging about who had captured a celebrity or who was planning to go to Finland next week to photograph the aurora.
Of course, showing off photos of a tragedy on the football field was the most impressive of all.
Gothamites seem to have violence in their very bones; those few bloody photos, which would require blurring even in special publications, were passed from hand to hand among the crowd, their owner received unanimous, profanity-laced praise from the students.
Do you know why Green Elf suddenly withdrew?
Someone said mysteriously, "I heard that Green Elf's production line added a new step; someone added prohibited drugs before they leave the factory!"
I know, it was Penguin! I heard the head coach was one of Black Mask's men, discovered the secret of Green Elf, blackmailed Penguin. That shooting at the football field was Penguin putting on a show for him!
Nonsense! I heard the factory that produces Green Elf is a front for Black Mask!
No matter who it is, it's definitely related to those two! Batman has already sent them to Arkham! Black Mask's home was raided the night before last by Red Robin! Penguin's home was also raided by Red Hood! Even the Iceberg Lounge was given to Jason Wayne by Red Hood..
The speaker saw Timothy and shut their mouth.
"Do you want to see the photos I took of Batman?" Timothy changed the subject.
In Gotham, Batman's popularity is higher than God's. Even Joker's worshippers are willing to admit that Batman is the god of Gotham. Of course, many others believe that Joker is the Satan who can make a god fall.
Fortunately, there were no Joker worshippers in the Photography Club; even the craziest one was merely a fan of Poison Ivy.
Although Timothy's photo of Batman only showed his back, it perfectly captured the moment Batman spread his cape while leaping over a skyscraper, with a rare full moon over Gotham in the background.
Batman!
The clear Batman!
Batman flying under the full moon!
Look at this visual impact from the clashing colors of light and shadow!
Look at this perfect golden composition!
Oh! A dimensional strike!
Timothy instantly became the king of the Photography Club; his subjects were humble and sycophantic, pleading with the "king" to grant them the right to re-shoot.
This farce didn't end until the club president announced a weekend trip to the Metropolis Zoo to photograph pandas.
The people of Gotham were indignant about this. Why was it that the Metropolis Zoo could apply for pandas, while the Gotham Zoo was rejected every single year despite applying every year?! The Gotham Zoo was clearly much wealthier! Wayne's investment in the Gotham Zoo this year alone exceeded a million!
Even if the Gotham Zoo has twelve disturbances a year on average, the Metropolis Zoo only has one! But one incident in Metropolis is more serious than all twelve of theirs combined!
Gotham refuses to accept that!
Gotham needs pandas!
It's not a question of whether there are pandas or not, but a question of the fact that Metropolis has them, while Gotham does not!
Except for aliens! Gotham doesn't need aliens! Gotham doesn't need bald billionaires either! May the Bat protect Wayne's hairline and keep it unchanged for a hundred years!
Colt's first club activity ended amidst the shouts of his classmates. He heard someone say they were going to raise funds to hire mercenaries to steal pandas from the Metropolis Zoo!
Metropolis has Superman; that reporter Clark Kent has already written three articles about Metropolis's new favorite pandas, they won't succeed.
Colt abandoned his supercar, which was stuck in the evening rush hour, rode his skateboard home.
Birdie hopped on the ground, circling his feet and chirping incessantly to complain that he had left the bird behind when he went out.
Colt picked up Birdie, weighed him in his hands, spread the bird's wings to inspect them, slowly frowned. "Robin Bird, have you become too heavy to fly?"
Birdie seemed to understand, freezing in place, his tiny black eyes filled with shock.
Colt tossed the bird up.
Chirp
It was the first time Colt knew that a bird's chirp could be so loud it could tear a throat, or perhaps his hearing aid was broken.
Flap, flap, flap..
Birdie flapped its wings, crashing into the chandelier, hitting the walls, crashing into the unlocked washroom, landing on the sink.
Perhaps the bird's target was the bathroom all along.
Birdie squatted in front of the mirror, tilting its head to study its reflection, then, as if struck by a blow, tucked its head into its wings.
With a neck too short and a body too round, its head couldn't fit between its wings, its wings couldn't cover its head; instead, due to its unstable center of gravity, it tumbled into the sink, causing the specially modified motion-sensor faucet to start running.
The soaking wet Birdie didn't look any smaller.
Colt didn't dare to provoke the solid bird, so he held Birdie, who had just finished a bath, carefully placed him into the specialized bird dryer.
It's okay, even if you're chubby, you are still the most beautiful bird. Look at this vibrant plumage, look at these sharp claws and teeth, look at these powerful wings, you are the best bird in the world!
Colt tried his best to build Birdie's confidence.
But, as soon as he stepped out of the washroom, he saw the open-plan living room, dining room, foyer filled to capacity with birds.
The birds lined up along the edges of tables, the backs of chairs, chandeliers, railings, just like humans queuing to see pandas; they gathered in small groups, whispering to one another and chirping incessantly.
Birdie let out an angry, long cry.
Colt made sure the hearing aid wasn't broken; the bird really could scream its lungs out.
Birdie drove away the friends who were watching the spectacle. Birds flew wildly all over the room; a few flew blindly into the glass, falling to the ground and lying motionless. Birdie did not stop, diving over to them and using his wings to slap the dazed little birds back up. He drove all the birds out of the house, even refusing to let his friends perch in the trees in the yard.
Colt couldn't understand bird language, but he could guess that Birdie was being mocked by his companions.
An angry Birdie skipped dinner and turned his butt toward Colt.
Colt took a photo and sent it to Drake.
[139, 0, 255: The bird is on a hunger strike.]
【185, 205, 246: I've made an appointment with an ornithologist for tomorrow at 10:00. Open up. 】
Colt poked his head out to take a look, then opened the gate, Red Robin drove the truck into Colt's garage. Fortunately, the garage's height had been modified to accommodate a small crane, so the truck was just able to fit inside.
Red Robin leaped down lightly. He looked dashing, his captured bangs like crest feathers, his fluttering cape hung elegantly behind him.
Your package, please sign for it.
Red Robin handed the folder containing the receipt to Colt, acting perfectly serious, as if he were merely a delivery man.
The receipt was very formal. Colt saw the inspected customs seal, the item name was statue, the purpose was art decoration.. Such formal, reasonable, complete documentation appearing in Gotham was practically a miracle.
Statues?
Colt's eyes widened: Wait, is it Vibranium?!
Red Robin actually brought Vibranium right to his doorstep!
Colt took a shortcut, passing through the wall to enter the study, rummaged through the drawer to find the carved but unused Ghost seal.
The Halloween-style little Ghost Seal was signed in the receipt section.
Red Robin closed the folder, opened the truck's cargo door, jumped inside, untied the securing ropes, pulled back the black cloth covering it: "It's all yours."
Colt looked at the tall Maneki-neko statue, feeling a bit nervous, turned his head to look back at Red Robin before reaching out.
Red Robin gave him a reliable nod.
Colt took a deep breath and patted the Ghost Seal on the statue's cat paw; beneath his palm was not nothingness, but cold brass.
He touched it.
His mental power covered the entire statue, the three-meter-tall, five-ton lucky cat floated up, slowly drifting down toward the car.
Colt is not a strongman; it's just that within the Ghost field, his mental power can lift the Earth, provided the Earth belongs to him. Colt withdrew his mental power, then reached into the Maneki-neko and pulled out 20 Vibranium bricks.
Every single Vibranium brick was stamped with a Ghost Seal. Red Robin was practically a BUG specifically designed to bypass Ghost's restrictions!
Colt was excited!
Colt was getting ahead of himself!
If—and this is a big if—he could cooperate with Red Robin, one could provide a false testimony and the other could handle the heavy lifting; wouldn't that be enough to empty the Wayne Laboratory? Wait, Red Robin is Wayne Junior, he couldn't possibly embezzle from his own family!
Colt calmed down and gave a bar of Vibranium to Red Robin.
It's the rule in Gotham: if you want your lost property back, you have to pay protection money.
Red Robin didn't refuse. He acted as if he were back in his own home, naturally picking up a specialized coffee mug, turning on the magical coffee machine to brew himself a cup of coffee, then taking a croissant from the bread basket on the table to eat.
He leaned against the dining table, tapping Birdie on the top of his head with one hand.
Birdie turned around, presenting its backside to him, stomped heavily on the remote.
The television switched to a Metropolis channel, broadcasting a hit drama about teenage rebellion, where the parents on screen were complaining to each other about their children's defiance.
What's wrong with him?
Red Robin also used the human "he" for the bird.
Colt had already put the Vibranium in the basement. He wiped his hands, then used a small spoon to scoop up a kernel of corn and bring it to Birdie's mouth.
Birdie kept its mouth shut and refused to eat, turning its butt toward Colt and jumping onto the remote control's volume button to turn the sound up.