Colt took a burger out of the paper bag and took a large bite. This kind of unhealthy carb bomb was actually quite good once in a while. In a good mood, Colt took out a USB flash drive, but instead of handing it directly to Timothy, he pulled a laptop out of his backpack.
Timothy drove the car out of the driveway, using one hand to brush his hair back.
"You're handsome enough already, Master Wayne, there are no girls here to scream for you." Colt plugged the USB drive into the computer and began reading the data.
Timothy sighed, reaching out to take a rose hairclip from Colt's head.
There's another one on the right.
Colt looked at the hairclip placed on the keyboard, silently removing the one pinned on the right side as well. This was a hairclip left behind by his mother, several of the small diamonds on it had already fallen out. He disliked the feeling of his hair being wet, so every time he washed his face, he would use a headband to push his hair back, but wearing a Quantum Terminal made a headband impractical, which was why he used a hairclip to pin his bangs back.
It seemed that a self-inspection procedure would have to be added to his routine for going out in the future; it was no longer a time when he could just dress and accessorize haphazardly just because no one was watching.
Colt brushed his bangs aside, stuffed the remaining half of the hamburger into his mouth, and, predictably, began to choke. He searched his backpack only to realize he had forgotten his water bottle, so he reached for the cup in the driver's seat cup holder instead.
“Wait..”
Timothy couldn't stop him in time, Colt's face contorted from the bitterness of the Espresso, he had to swallow the burger stuck in his throat almost through tears.
Today has been a truly unlucky day.
Colt put down his Espresso: "I will never understand why anyone likes this."
There are drinks and water in the back seat, you can choose for yourself." Timothy's fingers tapped a light rhythm on the steering wheel, his voice laced with a hint of laughter. "If you can, please read the data on the USB drive to me.
The data was not the design blueprints for the Super Particle Collider, but rather Red Robin's mission report regarding the Brain-eating worm case.
The Quantum Terminal connected to the computer, Colt grabbed the files face-to-face, then selected the files, read the content, sent them to Timothy's communication channel, played them via voice.
Colt took a bottle of water from the back seat, rinsed his mouth, listened along.
Behind the Brain-eating worm was Black Mask collaborating with aliens to betray them, aiming to control the world by controlling the Mother Worm. However, the money intended for purchasing raw materials for Beta Nutrient Solution was lost, meaning the substances secreted by the Mother Worm were insufficient. Consequently, plans such as contaminating the tap water or large-scale dispersal through the cloud layer were all forced into delay, in the end, even Gotham was not fully covered.
This was just the background to the mission; the bulk of the content concerned the handling of the case.
Timothy obscured Colt's presence, merely stating that a friend had helped, then filed a reimbursement claim with Batman for the ten million cost of purchasing insecticide.
Colt was choked up.
He had only received five million! Could this be what they call subcontracting?!
Timothy parked the car in the exclusive parking space Wayne had set up at the school. He unbuckled his seatbelt but was in no hurry to get out of the car, instead picking up the Espresso and taking a sip.
Wait, I've had that coffee before!
Colt looked at the coffee in Timothy's hands and deleted the reminder he had already written in his mind, choosing not to interrupt the summary of the mission report. Between classmates, it was perfectly normal to share drinks. In his previous life, a commuting student brought homemade beef sauce made by their mother, during evening self-study, the whole class shared it, finishing it all with just one bite each.
That being said, Colt found that his memories were returning faster and faster; whether they were from this life or his previous one, bits and pieces would pop up from time to time.
In short, America is more open-minded than China; sharing a cup of coffee is nothing, it is definitely not an indirect kiss!
After listening to the report, Timothy clasped his hands around the coffee cup and said, "Colt, your dream isn't an ordinary dream; items originating from the dreamscape can automatically complete their own logic, making them completely real."
Colt was still staring at the cup, primarily observing the position of the coffee residue on the rim to analyze which side he had just drunk from, which side Timothy had drunk from.
Timothy continued, "Normal dreams make no sense. Sometimes in a dream, you feel like you've discovered a world-shocking phenomenon, but when you wake up, it turns out it was just coffee with sugar making it less bitter. However, dreams blessed by the Dream God are even more useful than a super AI."
I don't write reports word for word in my dreams, I'm not entirely clear on the source of the Brain-eating worms held by Black Mask. But in the dream, 'I feel like I know,' and once brought into reality, the report actually presents the true details, the aliens who double-crossed each other just happen to coincide with a case from the Teen Titans.. This mission report is enough to satisfy Batman.
Colt was more focused on another point: "That's normal. Dreams are higher-dimensional spaces, the master of a dream is the god of that dream space, so of course you can be omnipotent. So, can you dream of the Star-shifting Cannon or a Dyson Sphere tonight?"
Then I would first need to know the principles behind the Star-shifting Cannon and the Dyson Sphere; at the very least, I'd need a design draft in my mind." Timothy shrugged. "Dreams can only add details; they can't create something from nothing.
Colt had a different opinion: "Dreaming is creation itself; you should be omnipotent within your dreams."
Clearly, dreams can be wild and unrestrained, but the Dream God's Blessing has its limits," Timothy said thoughtfully. "However, dreams do indeed have great value for development. Much like your Spiritual Power, the degree to which you develop your Spiritual Power is like the degree to which humans develop their brains—at most, only 10%.
The two of them formed a new study group.
Colt trained his spiritual power micro-control, while Timothy practiced lucid dream control.
Timothy's decision to sleep proactively startled the entire Bat Family.
Upon hearing of this, Red Hood was so shocked that he rushed back to Wayne to visit Timothy. He brandished the Blade of Great Caste, attempting to exorcise the evil from Timothy.
Dick stole Timothy's Espresso and brought it back to the safehouse to test in secret, suspecting that Damian had drugged it.
Damian didn't know that his beloved eldest brother actually suspected him. He suspected that Drake's abnormality was related to the haunted house at Oak Tree Manor, but he just watched with cold eyes. The foolish Drake brought the Ghost upon himself; he certainly wouldn't save an idiot.
Damian thought that bird was more interesting than Drake.
Alfred was delighted, thinking it was because of his milk. He swapped Bruce's evening vegetable juice for milk, only to find that Bruce had given the milk to Damian, so he swapped it back for the fortified vegetable juice.
Bruce stared at Timothy with a look that saw through everything, let out a deep sigh.
In the Batcave, Timothy changed into his Red Robin uniform and mounted his motorcycle, ready to set off.
"Father, Red Robin has been banned from night patrols for one month, the ban hasn't expired yet," Red Robin complained loudly.
Red Robin isn't usually this petty, but when it comes to Red Robin, it's different. Most importantly, Red Robin has class tomorrow and has been banned from night patrols by Batman.
“I don't plan on patrolling tonight,” Red Robin replied, patting the suitcase strapped to the back of the vehicle, his tone lighthearted. “I have a safehouse that needs renovation. I'm going over to check on it, I might not be back for a few days.”
Batman rubbed his forehead: "Red Robin."
"I'm here," Red Robin replied, raising his hand.
The Batcomputer suddenly flashed an alarm.
Red Robin put his hands down. "Do you need help? I can stay behind to handle information support."
No." Batman put on his cowl and ran toward the Batmobile, "Red Robin is forbidden from going out.
Red Robin kicked the wall in frustration.
Red Robin's mood instantly brightened. Although Batman said he didn't need help, Red Robin still followed the Bat-signal's alerts tonight.
Scarecrow has escaped!
There were issues with the personnel and surveillance at Arkham; by the time he was discovered, Scarecrow had likely been missing for 24 hours.
Batman combed through Gotham's underground laboratories like a farmer tilling a field. When he reached the third one, he found Scarecrow. However, there was no Fear Gas at the scene, only a small amount of semi-finished products, which did not match the quantity of the missing raw materials.
Someone took the Fear Gas.
I don't know, I don't know that person, I don't know what he's trying to do." Before Batman's iron fist could land on him, Scarecrow raised his hands in surrender: "I've made a little update to this batch of drugs; the effect is exceptional. If sprayed into Dark Cloud, it will make all of Gotham scream.
The surrender of an Arkham inmate felt more like a provocation than a surrender. In the end, Scarecrow ended up with seven broken bones and a moderate concussion.
Batman glanced at the monitors in the Batmobile and found that Red Robin had not continued following him, but had instead returned to Oak Tree Manor; according to the feedback from the heart rate monitor, he had already entered a deep sleep.
This behavior was not at all like Red Robin.
..
Colt was sleeping soundly, he felt something tapping his shoulder in a daze. He opened his eyes, saw a dark shadow in front of the bed, jumped up in fright.
Bang
Colt clutched his forehead, feeling as if he had slammed into a stone.
Sorry, I startled you." Red Robin grabbed Colt's hand and moved it away from his forehead. "It looks like a bump is forming. Do you feel dizzy?
Colt roared silently: No one gets a concussion from just bumping heads!
Timothy was too close, his breath even spraying against Colt's face. He had probably just chewed on coffee beans; his breath carried the roasted, smoky aroma of coffee.
Colt pulled out his hearing aid and Quantum Terminal and put them on, then turned on the bedroom light. "I'm fine, what happened?"
Red Robin stepped back a little: "I need you to open a treasure chest."
"Now?" Colt glanced at the time; it was 4:30 AM. He had gone to sleep close to midnight, at that time, the progress bar hadn't moved at all.
Red Robin nodded. "I've already slept for 4 hours and 5 minutes."
Colt saw the Dream Treasure Chest. Skipping the ritual of washing hands and praying, he opened the treasure chest directly and took out a shockproof safe designed to carry a briefcase of hazardous chemicals.
"Is this what you wanted?" Colt handed the case over.
Red Robin inspected the outer shell of the box, entered the password, opened it to take a look. Before Colt could lean in to see the contents inside, he quickly closed the box again.
That's right, it's that batch of lost Fear Gas.
Wait," Colt said, grabbing Red Robin's cape to remind him, "The gifts from the Dream Station are manifestations from illusion to reality, which is equivalent to duplication; real objects won't disappear because of it.
Red Robin pressed down the hair that Colt had ruffled: "I know, which is why I need to go to the water treatment plant now, to confirm whether the Fear Gas is hidden in the same location within the dream."
Colt let go of him: "Do you need any help?"
"Go back to sleep, you've already helped as much as you can." Red Robin grabbed the chest and vanished through the floor-to-ceiling window, turning back to gently close the sliding window. He waved at Colt through the glass and then leaped lightly off the terrace.
Colt chased after him, only to see Red Robin spreading his wings to soar through the rain, landing on a motorcycle outside, before quickly vanishing into the night.
The rain was too heavy tonight, the terrace's drain was clogged with fallen leaves, causing the rainwater to drain slowly until it nearly reached his feet.
Colt stepped barefoot in the water, kicking up a few more splashes.
It wasn't that he had suddenly developed a childish sense of fun. Gotham had no rainwater tax; theoretically, Colt shouldn't have had to pay for rainwater, so he shouldn't have been stepping in it. At least in the past, Colt had never touched rainwater.
Colt reached out his hand.
The rain in the sky was just like before, crashing through his hands and hitting the ground.
Colt splashed and stomped in the puddles like a piglet in a mud pit, calculating the force of the water based on the splashing droplets. His pants were soaked through, droplets of water were splattered across his face.
This is a good sign. Whether it was Red Robin successfully faking it, causing the law of belonging to become blurred, or his Spiritual Power upgrading and increasing the number of interactable objects, both left Colt incredibly excited.
On the other side.
Red Robin hid the Fear Gas from the Dream, carrying the empty chest, followed the Dream's prompt to find the hidden Fear Gas at the water treatment plant's supply terminal.
The automatic release device was rigged to the water plant manager's desk phone; as soon as the receiver was picked up, the Fear Gas would be released into the city's water supply system, which would surely throw Gotham into chaos.
Red Robin carefully dismantled the device, transferring several bottles of concentrated liquid Fear Gas into an empty container. Just as he surfaced from the water, he met Batman's disapproving gaze.
"I know you can handle the crisis, but I wanted to run a test," Red Robin said with a polite smile.
Batman reached out and pulled him onto the shore.
Thanks." Red Robin wiped the water from his face and brushed his hair behind his head. The two of them came under the eaves, Red Robin opened the chest. "I think everything is in here.
Batman inventoried the Fear Gas: "You should have notified me first. I will trust your intelligence, regardless of where it comes from."
But you'll be assigning the most dangerous job to yourself." Timothy found a dry towel from Batman's utility belt and wiped his hair. "Don't worry, Batman, I'm a hundred percent sure. Okay, maybe only eighty percent. Don't look at me like that, I can really guarantee my own safety.
Batman closed the case, signaling through his actions that the case was under his control. He looked at the heavy rain outside, then back at Red Robin, who was drying his hair and trying to fix his hairstyle.