Colt rested his chin in his hand, staring at Timothy as he recorded, thinking to himself: this kind of voice is perfect for reciting love poems.
..
The two of them set off at nine o'clock, taking Timothy's car, arrived at the pet clinic in the Upper West Side ten minutes before ten.
Timothy held the birdcage, while Colt carefully restrained his mental power to prevent accidentally pulling a person or a bird into his Ghost field.
With money paving the way, Birdie received exclusive service; results that would normally take a month to receive were provided within half an hour. The doctor didn't prescribe medicine, but instead prescribed a type of bird canned food that was said to be both expensive and unpalatable.
Colt held the diagnostic report, reading it over and over again even after getting into the car for the ride home.
The two-page long set of instructions had only one core word: obesity.
Colt placed the phone in the birdcage, aiming the receiver toward Birdie's head, negotiating with Birdie earnestly.
The doctor said you need to lose weight, so you must be more active.
The bird didn't want to hear it, turned his butt toward Colt.
Listen, Robin Bird, you're a bird, not a ground chicken.
The bird tried to bury its head in its wings, but it was too fat to have a neck and couldn't squeeze them in, so it let out a grievance "cheep~" toward Colt.
Captive North American Robins can live up to 28.5 years, so nine-year-old Birdie is far from the age of settling down for retirement.
Colt steeled his resolve, pulled Birdie out of the birdcage, discussed it with Timothy.
I'm going to take it back to fly.
Timothy supported him: "Do you need me to create a scientific and healthy diet and exercise schedule for it?"
Birdie didn't want it, chirped angrily at Timothy.
Timothy added insult to injury regarding Birdie: "The doctor also subtly suggested not letting Birdie watch TV. It's already a bit nearsighted; if this continues, it won't be able to see insects in the future and will completely lose its ability to live independently."
Colt thought it made a lot of sense.
Although he would never abandon Birdie, no one knew whether accidents or tomorrow would arrive first. A Robin must possess the ability to hunt for survival and needs to kick its television addiction.
Birdie's hard days have arrived.
Timothy was very satisfied; as a fellow Little Red Bird, he should strive to be more competitive.
Weight loss needs to be done step by step.
Colt forced Birdie to fly for ten three-minute intervals, with ten-minute breaks in between, by the time they returned home, it was already afternoon.
A construction crew had arrived at the neighboring yard and was currently clearing the land.
Oak Tree Manor used to be an affluent area with average prices exceeding ten million. Luxury mansions were nestled in the mountains, with each one separated from the others by gardens, walls, forests. The scenery was beautiful, the privacy was excellent, it was highly sought after.
Ever since the Arkham villains started holding team-building activities here, the water, soil, plants, air in Oak Tree Manor have been filled with toxins exceeding safe levels. The police have also removed this area from their patrol routes, leading to prolonged power and water outages, unmaintained roads, even legends of ghosts.. The livability of Oak Tree Manor has plummeted, it has been designated as a danger zone, yet the high annual property tax of 3% remains unchanged. Aside from the Colt family, who cannot leave, everyone else has long since moved away.
Colt remembered that the property next door had long ago been repossessed by the government and put up for auction. When he had first become a Quantum Ghost, he had even tried to investigate the buyer's identity, but he was caught by Batman just as he discovered it was Bruce, he was nearly captured as an AI.
Bruce couldn't have sold the house next door, so who is renovating their place and planning to move over?
Colt hovered above the neighbor's house and saw the Wayne construction crew in their uniform, suddenly felt afraid.
It couldn't be Timothy, could it?
It shouldn't be, right?
If so, that would be truly terrifying.
Colt took a photo and sent it to Timothy to confirm.
【139, 0, 255: (Construction photo)? 】
【185, 205, 246: Hello, neighbor. (Handshake)】
【 139 ， 0 ， 255 ： （ΩДΩ） 】
【185, 205, 246: (Hug)】
【 139, 0, 255: Throwing money into Gotham Bay would make more noise than throwing it here. 】
[185, 205, 246: Bruce sent it, it's free (*￣￣)]
【139, 0, 255: I have nothing to say to you rich people (^)】
【185, 205, 246: (Tearful Chibi Cole Duck)】
【 139, 0, 255: If you want to keep an eye on me from nearby, I still have spare rooms in my house, the rent is only a tenth of the property tax. 】
【 185, 205, 246: You've got it backwards. I'll save a master bedroom for you, I won't even charge you rent (^o^)/～ 】
Timothy looked at the silent phone, finished a document, then looked at the phone again.
Colt did not reply to him again.
Colt was the one who started the topic, so he couldn't be blamed for crossing social boundaries.
Timothy did not return to Wayne Manor, but instead changed his clothes at a safehouse across from the company and went straight to work at the Wayne Enterprises headquarters.
Batman banned Red Robin from his night patrols, so he could spend more time handling company documents.
For instance, new Vigilante Forum merchandise—including Bat Lollipops, Coffee Bat Popsicles, Bat Thermoses that would make even his siblings green with envy—could earn Colt some design fees.
Timothy was full of energy, his enthusiasm so great that it even startled his providers at Wayne.
Timothy, I heard you want to learn about the electric vehicle project?
Lucius knocked on the door of the CEO's office.
Ever since Iron Man switched to clean energy, the company's artificial suns and super batteries have depreciated significantly. The board of directors believes that new energy has lost its competitiveness, rather than building new energy vehicle factories abroad, it would be better to focus on the deep development of aviation and communications.
I believe super batteries can make new energy vehicles take off. The profits brought by this project will far exceed expectations, I will take responsibility for persuading the board of directors.
Timothy took a sip of coffee and switched into workaholic mode.
To buy out Gotham, one would need a vast amount of money.
Of course, while making money, he also did not forget to monitor his family; Colt is currently being monitored as well.
At ten o'clock at night, the lights in Colt's study went out, the lights in the master bedroom on the second floor came on. Timothy sent a message to Colt.
【185, 205, 246: Tomorrow morning, Metropolis Zoo (Panda)】
【139, 0, 255: Hello, Panda (Cole Duck with dark circles under its eyes)】
【185, 205, 246: Hello, Mr. Little Reed, I am processing it for you (Bat Merch Design Copyright Contract)】
【139, 0, 255: Good job, Drake, get some sleep early, Drake (Ghost offers you her love)】
【185, 205, 246: Goodnight, Ghost (Cole Duck returns to the nest to sleep)】
【139, 0, 255: Goodnight (Birdie is sleeping)】
Timothy smiled at the chat interface.
Chatting with Colt was very comfortable, as if the missing nine years never existed; there was no need to pretend, no need to worry about being misunderstood.
They tacitly used the RGB values of their eyes as nicknames. Every time a message popped up, it felt as if they were being gazed at by the other's eyes; just looking at the names would put them in a good mood.
The phone screen went dark automatically. Timothy finished signing the last document and walked to the window to stretch.
There is no Bat-Signal in Gotham tonight; Batman is swinging between the skyscrapers with Red Robin.
With Black Mask and Penguin in Arkham, Gotham should be peaceful for a while.
Timothy was thinking about it and picked up his coat, preparing to finish work for the day, only to see the sky light up in the distance, with a massive Bat projected onto the dark clouds.
Well, he spoke too soon; there would never be a moment of peace in Gotham.
6:00 AM.
Timothy left the Batcave with a yawn, greeting Alfred, who had already woken up and was preparing breakfast: "Alfred, I have plans with a classmate to go to Metropolis today, please wake me up at eight."
Of course, Master Timothy. You can have breakfast in your room today and sleep for another fifteen minutes.
"Thank you, Alfred, I love you," Timothy said with a wave.
Damian went downstairs for training, holding a knife.
Timothy greeted him politely, "Good morning."
Damian walked past him without even looking, only letting out an ambiguous clicking sound: "Tsk."
Timothy didn't care either, walking upstairs with a light, airy step, even humming a song under his breath.
Damian looked back, his face wearing an expression that said this person was crazy.
Timothy worked as logistics for a night, using the Batcomputer to review twenty-three different departmental financial reports, even went as far as helping his siblings write their mission reports, which even Stephanie said was quite terrifying.
It was nothing; with the super sleep provided by Ghost, he could nap for two hours and still head to his date at the Metropolis Zoo feeling refreshed and full of energy.
Timothy thought happily, but his heart skipped a beat when he opened the door and saw a white shadow.
Ghost is in his room!
Timothy instantly sped into the room and slammed the door, nearly knocking Damian, who was stealthily following him, flying backward.
Damian pounded on the door: "Drake, open up! You need to cut your head open and take a look! Is your brain filled with Joker gas!"
Master Damian, please do not disturb Master Timothy's rest.
Pennyworth, Drake has gone mad! He actually smiled at me! He even said good morning to me!
That's because Timothy is polite. Perhaps you'd be willing to help me walk Ace, while you're at it, chase away those rabbits digging holes in the garden.
Since you ask so earnestly, fine, I can help you.
The sound grew fainter and fainter.
Colt peeked outside and gestured to Timothy: They're gone.
Timothy quietly gave a subtle hand gesture, then took out his device and circled the room, finding two monitors.
Colt's eyes widened.
Does the Wayne family specialize in wholesale surveillance equipment? So Timothy's habit of dropping surveillance devices everywhere is a family trait?
Timothy finished handling the surveillance before lifting his wristwatch and speaking: "Our agreed departure time is nine o'clock."
I know." The Snail Speaker on the display case made a sound. "A Robin Bird needs early practice. Since we're passing by, we thought we'd stop by to see if you've died of overwork from staying up too late.
Colt pulled Birdie out of his pocket, his eyes full of condemnation.