69novels Chapter 199
Chapter 199
The playground was less than an hour away from Wayne Manor. Carl deliberately slowed down the speed of the car considering Dick was already asleep. It took them more than an hour to reach their destination.
The butler, Alfred, was already waiting at the door, wearing a tuxedo and white gloves. He still had that meticulous and stereotyped look, and his greeting voice didn't fluctuate at all.
"You're back, sir. Welcome to visit, Mr. Al." His calm eyes circled around Bruce's arms, and he stretched out his hand to signal Bruce to hand over Dick to him. "It seems that Master Richard and Mr. You had a great time."
"Yes, Aff, take him back to his room and have a good rest." Bruce carefully handed Dick into the hands of the old housekeeper.
The slender little boy of eight was as light as a feather, and even the elderly housekeeper seemed to be able to carry him around effortlessly.
The action of conveying Dick was only paused for a moment because of the babbling sound from Dick's frowning. Obviously, the sudden change of arms aroused his vigilance. Dick turned over uneasily and almost fell from Alfred's hands.
Of course, this kind of thing can't happen in reality. Bruce, who is proficient in various fighting techniques, reacted extremely quickly. His hand has already been stretched out, ready to catch Dick before he falls.
But it was Karl who reacted faster than him.
He was standing next to Bruce, about two steps away from Bruce. This distance is not long or short. If Bruce was standing in Carl's position, he would also have the confidence to rush over in time before Dick completely fell to the ground. .
It's just that such a violent action will inevitably cause a lot of movement. The onlookers can clearly realize the strength contained in his action, can hear his footsteps on the ground, and can see that his clothes are broken because of the too hasty action. resulting in wrinkles and deformation.
He can rush to the right place in time, but it is impossible to be so silent and light.
It seemed to be just a breeze passing by, and even Bruce suspected that the breeze was just an illusion produced by himself.
Or maybe his memory of where Karl was just now was just an illusion, maybe Karl was standing there in the first place, where he could touch it with a tilt of his head, because if the memory just now was not an illusion, how to explain it The fact that he was completely unaware of Carl's approach?
Standing so close, Carl supported Dick's waist with just a slight raise of his hand, stopping his downward trend.
He rolled Dick into Alfred's arms like flipping a pancake.
This slightly rough action caused Dick's face to hit Alfred's chest, and his mumbled muttering was stifled. Carl smiled and leaned in front of Alfred, and with the cooperation of Alfred, he Dick's face was pulled from the front of his tuxedo.
"Look at him sleeping like a pig. Well, let's take him back to his room." Carl's voice was full of laughter, "I thought I could play with him in the playground ..." There was a bit of regret on his face.
"I think the master has plenty of time to spend time with you in the playground, Mr. Al." The old butler said unhurriedly, "You can come anytime. Anyway, the people in the playground Activities are always more rewarding than elsewhere."
He restrainedly saluted the two present, then turned around and disappeared around the corner of the stairs with Dick.
Carl looked away, turned his head, and met Bruce's eyes.
They were a pair of steel blue eyes, so different from the pure and sweet color seen in Metropolis, Carl suspected that these were the true color of Bruce's pupils, because in the dark weather of Gotham, anyway, Bruce will always be more of himself.
The color of those eyes became lighter as they went outwards, but the color in the center was so dark that it looked quite rich, but it started to shine from the darkest place.
It looks like bright, small dots one by one, like a white pearl embedded in the dark depths.
"Hey, Bruce." Carl broke the silence, "Shall we sit in?"
Bruce gave a languid smile, "Why not." He said this in an affirmative tone, and walked into the room first.
Before entering the door, Carl glanced at the Wayne Manor. The tall trees were arranged in an orderly manner in the soil, making one suspect that their roots buried deep in the soil might be as orderly as their exposed branches and leaves; The vegetation is neatly trimmed to form a uniform shape, and the petite flowers are arranged in the gaps according to the law, patchwork, just like the rare and eye-catching diamonds on the necklace.
No matter how much he pretended to be undisciplined and casual, there was something so different from ordinary people in Bruce that stood out.
Rigorous, focused, and orderly, but always actively breaking them, Karl thinks it may be this unspoken sense of contradiction that makes him the darling of parties.
In any case, Carl himself couldn't be as popular as Bruce.He's been to a lot of parties, too, but never has the ladies flocked to him.
He doesn't have that exuberant desire and explicit sexual tension, or at least that temperament will be carefully hidden by him.
"Sit down, please. Aff will serve us tea and dessert when Dick is settled," Bruce said. "What brought you here, Carl, huh?"
"Dongfeng." Karl replied.
"Oh." Bruce opened his eyes slightly, with an exaggerated expression that was similar to surprise and confusion on his face, "I don't quite understand what you mean."
"Don't worry, this sentence is meaningless, I just said it casually." Carl leaned on the sofa and smiled at the old butler who brought soda and tea back, "I just came here to ask you... ...Is the potion finished?"
"It has entered the final stage of experimentation. The Wayne Group has previously released stimulants with similar functions for clinical use. Without considering side effects and sequelae, it only needs to amplify and strengthen its medicinal properties."
"You sound like you know a lot about it."
"I have followed up the progress of the experiment." Bruce said, "After all, Ms. Carter is a hero and a friend of my father. I also hope that I can contribute to her health."
"That speech doesn't sound so... Brucey baby," Carl commented, adding quickly in a low voice, "but I think it sounds very much like Bruce."
Bruce looked at him without saying a word.
"I don't think we know each other as well as everyone thinks," Carl continued, "although we've managed to create an illusion of intimacy very well. It seems too real, I mean, I don't know you What do you think...but it feels so good that sometimes I feel like I'm taking it too seriously."
But the reality is not like that.
The reality is that Wayne Group and Ayre Company do have a very close cooperative relationship with each other, but the president of Wayne Group and the president of Ayre Company, the two most unprofessional presidents in the world—Tony.Stark was very honored to be squeezed into third place by them. Although he didn't pay much attention to the company's commercial operations, he made a lot of contributions to technology research and development-but he didn't have many personal relationships.
Even if there is any personal relationship, it is not two-way, but Karl's unilateral attention and understanding of Bruce.
"I don't really know you very well, Carl," Bruce said, in a normal tone, but Carl was sure he meant something, "but I never thought we were 'cultivating an illusion of intimacy.' Neither you nor I This illusion is known to the whole world, and so is the fact: we don’t compromise for anyone or anything.”
"...Do you dare to speak more tactfully?"
Carl started laughing.
"Dick has been looking forward to your visit to our house for a long time, and for the sake of you fulfilling his wish today, of course." Bruce said calmly, "I am very sorry for neglecting you before."
"...OK, this is over the top. I should have been very touched, Bruce, but now you're really making me shudder."
Bruce stared at Carl and smiled.
"Stay for dinner?"
"Just to my liking."
New York, Queens.
It’s almost dusk, and there are few people on the street. Most of the shops on both sides are closed or out of business. Only a few coffee shops and bars are still lit. The brightest places on the whole street are probably those vending machines that provide service 24 hours a day. Around ATMs.
At such a time, the old man who was still walking leisurely on the street looked especially strange.
Gathered in a remote place, the ruffians wandering in the alleys cast malicious glances at him, and searched his clothes pickily with their eyes, evaluating how much property they might get from this old man.
No one did it for a long time.
It may be because although this strange old man is by no means young in appearance, there is an unusual aura in his walking and walking.
This kind of temperament is only visible but not intelligible, like strange scars or strange tumors, you can hardly imagine how strange the scars are, and how strange the tumors are, because at least in concept, scars and tumors are common things.
The creepiness brought by any common object is strange and directly hits people's hearts. At first glance, it is normal, but as long as you look at it a little, the air-conditioning and chill will emerge from the bottom of your heart, making people feel an instinctive escape.
These hooligans and thugs may be overwhelmed by this otherworldly sense of evil, and if they are smart enough, they may sneak away before anything really happens.
Some people have already fled without looking back, and those who stayed behind laughed and satirized their backs, but did not realize that their tone of voice and the fingers making insulting gestures, including their bodies, were trembling slightly .
Their instincts understand the specific meaning of "fear" long before their heads.