Colt exhaled, "Gotham is an abyss; if you stare into it for too long, tentacles will grow in your mouth, so I don't like prying into other people's secrets."
Timothy stood with his hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at Colt thoughtfully.
His clothes were pulled down, but the hem was still slightly curled, revealing a bit of his waist. Much like a beauty partially hiding her face behind a lute, it made one want to reach out and help him straighten his clothes.
Colt took a deep breath, pinning his gaze on Timothy's eyes, got straight to the point: "If I knew you were Red Robin, I wouldn't bind your dreams."
Timothy frowned. "Who do you want to bind?"
"I don't know. Anyway, it's not someone who is heavily addicted to coffee and has so little sleep that they'd need to call the GCPD to report Wayne for child abuse, someone who can go three days without closing their eyes," Colt condemned.
"Oh, so you care about me." Timothy laughed instead, pouring the contents of the wheelbarrow out next to the pile of construction debris.
"I only care about whether you'll dream of Golden Mountain." Colt rested one hand on the dump truck and pulled both the truck and Timothy into his Ghost field, shielding them from the dust.
"Then why didn't you break the connection? Anyway, you didn't even ask if I agreed when you bound it." Timothy gave Colt directions.
I was dreaming at the time, so I couldn't ask you. Dreams have no logic. I spent all my money trying to buy Vibranium, I even dreamed I was playing a treasure hunt game. The final treasure was a birdcage; I wanted to give it to Robin Bird, but I didn't expect that when I opened the cage, a person suddenly emerged from inside and claimed to be the Dream Sovereign.
Colt placed the dump truck by the half-demolished wall and used his spiritual power to wrap the remaining construction debris, tossing it into the dump truck.
Timothy leaned on the sledgehammer, "Continue."
“The Dream Sovereign has seven siblings. He said thank you for helping his brother regain his strength, he wants to give me a gift. As long as I bind myself to someone's dream, I can obtain the most precious thing from that person's dreams. Since what others dream about is completely uncontrollable, the choice must be made carefully. Among the people I know, Tony always has nightmares, Dad likes to stay up late, as a Gothamite, I could only think of Wayne at the time, then because of Bruce Wayne's reputation, I chose you.”
Colt looked at the blueprints beside him, then used his mental power to cover the wall that needed to be hollowed out, precisely cutting out a doorway.
Sorry, I only realized after waking up that there really was an extra Dream Station in my mental space that the Dream God's gift was real, that it even created a Spiritual Connection between us, allowing you to see me.
"Thank you for your choice. The existence of the connection has improved my sleep; everything bestowed upon me has been a beautiful dream." Timothy pulled a tablet from a corner, removed his glove, tapped the screen. The tablet projected a three-dimensional holographic design of the safehouse.
"Your sweet dreams are coffee, coffee cups, coffee beans, coffee machines. It's a pity I'm not a coffee shop owner." Colt piled the dismantled bricks into a giant coffee cup.
Timothy raised his hand and placed it on Colt's shoulder.
Colt flinched slightly, but he did not dodge, instead stiffening his neck to look at Timothy.
I've already showered, but your hands are sweaty, your whole body is covered in sweat.. Aren't boys' sweat always smelly? A lot of girls on the school forum say the classrooms smell, so why doesn't Timothy smell?
"Are you sure it's only coffee? I feel like I once dreamed of gambling on stones and opened two pieces of extremely rare jade," Timothy questioned.
Too small, only the size of an eyeball." Colt paused, "I've checked the price of jade; it's worth about a hundred thousand.
I'll buy it. How about a million?" Timothy turned his head, looking into Colt's eyes. "After all, violet is quite rare; it would make an excellent gemstone or cufflink.
Why was 'violet' emphasized? Why was he so close?
Colt shifted his gaze uncomfortably. "You want it? It's your dream creation to begin with, so I can share half of it with you."
I want it," Timothy answered seriously. "Is there anything else? I also had a dream about an amusement park. Balloons? Ice cream? A Robin doll? Or..
It's a photo," Colt answered quickly. "I can't give you this one; it's a group photo, I'm in it too.
Timothy smiled, his chest vibrating with a low chuckle, the expression on his face looked extremely delighted.
Colt looked at him, his lips curling upward subconsciously.
“You can remember dreams, so it's a lucid dream under your control, right?” Colt paused to weigh his words. "In fact, the Dream Treasure Chest has yielded something more precious than a photograph—a spleen, fresh and healthy."
Timothy covered his lower left abdomen, his smile slowly fading, "Is this why you were honest with me about the dream?"
Colt pulled a document roll from his pocket and handed it to Timothy: "Dream Station can ensure your spleen remains suspended in the exact moment it was detached from your body, in a completely intact state. Once you have confirmed the surgery time, let me know, I will retrieve it."
Timothy flipped through the documents; it was a complete surgical plan. The description of his physical condition alone spanned five full pages, with the incision locations marked down to four decimal places. It was as if the precise values had been derived from countless surgeries, detailed enough to be input directly into a computer to allow a robot to perform the operation.
To say I'm not moved would be a lie.
Timothy cleared his throat, "You know my body better than I do."
"You are the first person besides my father to undergo a spiritual connection scan." Colt didn't specify which day the scan occurred, since Timothy had allowed him to perform one when checking for Brain-eating worms back then.
Don't worry about data leaks; I have already deleted all the relevant data in the terminal.
Thank you. I'll leave my files at your Dream Station for now; I'll consider the surgery once I have some free time," Timothy said, putting away the documents. "Is there anything you want?
Now, here's the key point!
“Let's cooperate,” Colt said earnestly, negotiating. “If you think Golden Mountain's wealth doesn't suit Wayne's style, then think about the Super Particle Collider, interstellar warp starships, or miraculous potions like 'Archangel's Breath,' or super serums without any hidden dangers.. those miraculous things that can make your body whole without needing surgery.”
Timothy looked at Colt's sparkling eyes and smiled, giving the back of his neck a squeeze.
Colt shuddered. Although humans weren't cats, there was no such thing as having one's power sealed just by having the scruff of the neck pinched, the sensation of having his neck squeezed felt incredibly strange; he felt a numbness running from his scalp all the way down to his tailbone.
Chapter 33
Wake up, now is not the time for dreaming.
Timothy held the tablet and issued an order, "There is still much to be developed in your abilities; first, help me mix some cement."
Colt pointed to himself. "Me, mixing cement?"
That's right, use your spiritual power to mix the cement." Timothy nodded. "You can scan the DNA structure within cells, proving that your spiritual power can perform micro-manipulation, so try manipulating physical objects.
Tim is the most excellent conductor.
Colt had been doing the same thing for years, only knowing how to use his mental power to pull things into the Ghost field, occasionally acting as a scanner or a cutter. Under Timothy's guidance, he had actually learned to use his mental power to mix cement according to specific ratios, twist steel bars, pour columns.
He alone was equivalent to an entire construction crew, playing with the real world as if it were Minecraft.
The foreman, Timothy, clapped his hands. "That's enough for tonight. We'll continue tomorrow night."
Colt finished playing Minecraft with lingering interest, then invited Timothy to his place for a late-night snack and a shower. They were about the same height, so they could swap clothes. As for underwear, Joseph had bought him a dozen the last time he visited; he hadn't had the chance to wear them yet, but they had all been washed and dried.
Timothy did not refuse.
Colt toasted some mantou slices, prepared some cereal, also prepared hot milk for a late-night snack.
Timothy stood blankly in front of the coffee machine, holding a coffee cup.
He had just finished showering, his skin slightly flushed from the hot water. His hair wasn't completely dry, droplets from the ends of his hair fell onto his shoulders, creating dark wet spots.
Colt found a new towel and tossed it over his head.
Timothy looked at the coffee machine with the smart lock, then looked at Colt, let out a deep sigh. He set down his cup and wiped his hair haphazardly, complaining, "I think this is a product of my dream; I should have half the usage rights to it."
"So I only prohibit it from starting between 8:00 PM and 6:00 AM, I even gave you an extra two hours." Colt thought himself to be extremely generous.
To prevent waking Birdie, Timothy kept his voice very low. Colt did not use the loudspeaker either, but instead continued sending voice messages through the encrypted communication channel.
Colt handed the carbohydrate-rich late-night snack to Timothy.
Timothy muttered, "It's still early."
Colt wished he would look at the clock as it approached midnight and say it again, or perhaps look in a mirror to see his fatigue level, which was at 87 out of 90—a state Colt only ever wished to see while shopping.
Timothy finished his carb-heavy late-night snack, yawning and struggling to keep his eyelids from closing, before shuffling over to the sofa to try and open his computer to handle some work.
The computer screen was replaced by images of the Super Particle Collider.
Timothy lifted his eyelids, looking at Colt, who was overlaying the tablet onto his computer.
"Look at these, they're much more wonderful than those boring documents." Colt leaned over and swiped through the images, attempting to cram the concept of the Super Particle Collider into Timothy's head to satisfy his daytime thoughts and nighttime dreams.
Timothy cupped Colt's face, his palms pressing inward to squeeze Colt's lips into a pout, letting out an operatic lament: "Ah, dear Colt, am I nothing more than a tool for resource acquisition in your eyes?"
Colt met Timothy's unfocused eyes. "You're sleepy."
“No, I can go seventy-two hours without closing my eyes.” Timothy's tone was decisive, yet his hands didn't leave Colt's face, he even rubbed his palms against it.
Colt played hypnotic white noise through the communication channel, moved the stacked tablets and computers aside, covered the back of Timothy's hands with his own.
Close your eyes, Tim.
You can't force me to sleep, this is abuse.." Timothy closed his eyes and murmured, "Fine, goodnight..
A pleasant rustling sound rose.
Colt gently arranged Timothy's hands, helping him lie flat on the pillow, then found a blanket to cover him.
“Goodnight, Tim.”
Colt quietly finished tidying up the dining room and turned off the lights. Returning to the bedroom, Colt touched his cheek, the sensation of being held still lingering on his face.
He looked toward the door opposite him and decided to clear out the guest bedroom.
..
Chirp, chirp
Colt was woken up by a bird stepping on him and picked up his phone to take a look.
7:05! Colt bolted upright, grabbed his hearing aid and Quantum Terminal, rushed to the top of the stairs, looking down while putting them on.
Only blankets were piled on the sofa in the living room, with no one around, there was no pleasant rustling in his mind. A treasure chest sat in the Dream Station, Little Messenger was full of energy, topped with a speech bubble that read, 【 1 ↑ Get to work, get to work!! 】
The phone let out a loud quack, a message arrived from Timothy.
[185, 205, 246: Good morning, Colt. If the gift is a USB drive, save it for me; I'll be there in a moment.]
How did Timothy know I just woke up?
Timothy knew the gift was a USB drive; he could indeed control dreams!
Colt tossed the USB drive he had taken out of the treasure chest, then quickly washed up and changed his clothes.
Timothy drove the car into the courtyard; he had woken up at five o'clock, gone home to change his clothes, even bought breakfast on the way.
Colt changed Birdie's food and water and gave the bird a pat. "Remember to exercise. The TV will only turn on once it monitors that you've met your exercise goals."
The bird only held out for a day before resignedly trading exercise for television.
Colt installed a child lock on the TV, allowing him to remotely control the power, replaced the tracker on Birdie's leg band with a miniature intelligent monitor capable of calculating flight time and speed, eliminating any possibility of Birdie being lazy.
Birdie stared at the television, lazily nuzzling Colt's finger.
Colt confirmed that all the indicator lights on the Intelligent Protection System were green before grabbing his backpack and rushing to the car.
Good morning, Tim.
Colt had no classes in the morning, but since he would be doing homework at home and at school anyway, going to school with Timothy wouldn't be a bad idea.
Timothy tossed breakfast to Colt, one hand on the steering wheel while the other combed his hair back.
There's no one else here, why are you trying to act so cool?