[Zhongyingmei] The style of the game is wrong

FUCK!

Even though he was prepared mentally, the bright identification results on the screen still greatly impacted Jason's vision.

And successfully short-circuited Jason's brain for a moment, and his mind fucked up.

Jason leaned against the table with his hands in his trouser pockets, and it took him a while to realize that he had to do something, then a short whistle broke the silence.

His tone was complicated: "Tsk, old bat."

Thousands of words mixed with complex emotions condensed into one sentence: Batman can do anything.

He stood up straight, and his shiny new tactical boots stepped on the icy floor, matching the same newly replaced outfit.

The original pair got splashed with mud as they waded through the mud of Gotham after the rain.And Damian contributed a lot, as if a Robin bird covered in chocolate sauce struggled and writhed, he rubbed against him again.

Gee.

Even the red hood couldn't hide the horrible expression, and even Batman didn't know how hard he had to resist the urge to throw the devil boy down.

The smell of mud was mixed with another weird smell that made people frown, and the crazy provocation of the little boy made the red hood twitch.

Red Hood: Fuck.

Not to be outdone, he said, "Little devil, were you caught by Thalia and thrown into the pool and crawled back to Gotham?"

One sentence didn't know which tendon the devil bastard was blown to. Damian yelled "Todd, you're finished", while breaking free from the suppression, he punched him in the stomach with all his might.

It's fucking painful.

All in all, this was indeed a big motivator for Jason to kick them off and head straight for the nearest safe house.

As soon as Jason threw himself into the safe room, he dug out the spare clothes and replaced them.

He undressed quickly and gritted his teeth.The devil boy was definitely taking revenge on purpose, and when he couldn't break free, he hit his clothes with the heavily stained part and rolled him all over.

"That's the only trick."

His voice was full of disdain.

The ravaged uniforms were twisted together and thrown into the trash can. The only thing that survived was the jacket except for the baby red hood.

Stained sludge covered Dorothy's smeared watercolors.Jason stretched out two fingers to pinch the collar of the jacket, frowning, reached for a paper towel to wipe off the stains stuck to the light watercolor, and then threw it into the laundry basket with precision.

Jason Todd is without a doubt a walking coat hanger.

The tall and strong figure props up the ordinary black T-shirt, which looks like a high-end male model. The same slightly lighter-colored trousers wrap slender and powerful legs, and the trousers are tied up by tactical boots, making the whole person charming And dangerous.

The shattered hair that had just been released from the closed hood was messed up everywhere, and the white hair on the forehead that looked like it had been dyed was pressed against the black hair in a bad temper.

Jason Todd, the great Mr. Red Hood, was moving the soles of his boots mindlessly scratching the poor floor back and forth.

"Great, now the question is, what the hell is going on with my fucking premonition?"

This question hovered in his mind and continued to trouble him.When the soul is clamoring "Yes, that's it, find her", the weak reason is trying to hold back the over-enthusiastic and crazy emotions.

There's definitely something fucking wrong with this!

The impulse to pick up the bat cub and run away under excitement is almost like a stupid father who finally found the lost cub.

Jason closed his eyes unbearably, and covered his face with his hands.

fuck.

It's a good thing no one saw, or he would have slammed into a wall in embarrassment - even if he had already slammed a car into a wall once with a person, if those bastards knew.

When he opened his eyes, his gaze was still on the screen, and the faintly bright light of the screen was cast on Jason Todd's overly handsome face, making it breathless to see.

The fingers with well-articulated joints rest on the lips, and the slender fingers hidden under the black gloves that have not seen the sun for a long time are almost pale.

"I can swear by Dickie's upturned ass," Jason said with a serious face, his brows and eyes are delicate and sharp, "I'm not out of my mind, and I've never seen her before."

The new pup was about nine or ten—or younger, he wasn't sure.

Looking at her age, it can be inferred that she was born in the year Bruce adopted her.

Bruce didn't seem to be hanging out at the time, well, well he wasn't sure.

He searched in his heart and locked on a suspicious target.

"Anyway, as long as you don't hide it from the old bat." He planned to go back to Wayne Manor.

Jason, who changed his mind again, put away his tools and began to clean up, meticulously restoring the safe house to its original state.

The refrigerated box containing Bruce's active cells was carefully hidden in the dark compartment on the floor, and the baffle dropped, slowly disappearing into the darkness.

Jason put his arms on his chest and mocked coolly: "Maybe I can use it later."

The wiped red hood was placed on the head of the bright bed.

Temporarily took off the uniform of Red Hood.Now, he's just Jason Todd.

"Good morning, safe house." Red Hood waved his hand backwards, closed the door behind him, and wiped away all traces, "And, goodbye."

Gotham is sunny.

"Oh, nice weather. So good morning, Gotham."

Wayne Manor.

It was rare for the three little birds to get together for breakfast.

Tim sat spread out at the table, nodding his head, propping his arms on the table to his chin, trying to keep his eyes open, trying not to let his head fall into the soup bowl.

His feeble fingers hooked over the mug on the edge of the table, and he slowly took a sip of the coffee.He firmly believes that as long as one sip of coffee can be automatically converted into the same amount of sleep.

The long curled eyelashes flicked to cover the sleepy eyes, and naturally ignored the breakfast milk that was just placed at hand.

Red Robin Tim, who came back from the Teen Titans mission, has been spinning like a spinning top for his "dear" little brother for several days.

In a while, he has to deal with the backlog of business affairs of the Wayne Group that has piled up for many days, and to track down... a small trouble.

Oh, another fulfilling day.

He lifted the spoon mechanically, relying on his body's muscle memory to avoid spilling the soup on the front of his clothes or sticking it in his nostrils.

"Xiao Hong, I think you should lie on the bed and take a nap." Dick looked up at him with a worried tone.

I worry that Tim will stay up late and die suddenly.

He sat across the dining table, ripped open the bag of cereal that he took out from the refrigerator - he had secretly hidden it before, and didn't find a chance until Ah Fu left this morning - poured it into a bowl and brewed it with hot water Okay, hold the handle of the spoon and stir evenly, and let out a satisfied sigh after taking a sip.

The young man with a warm smile and a pretty face looked around, and secretly dragged the plate with cookies in front of him.

No one stopped him, as if everyone but him was preoccupied.

He fed himself a bite of the cookie, chewing it deliberately, trying to get attention.

"You guys are so weird today." Dick tilted his head, and so did Little Wing.

No one paid any attention to him, only the little brother Damian next to him gave him a sneer generously.

Damian's mind was full of the game, the game, the turnip, the Lazarus pool, and the mysterious Alice.

Well, Gotham now has the Mad Hatter and Alice, and the March Hare and the Cheshire Cat can have a real-life tea party.

Damian had a stinky face, and he poked the plate viciously with the fork in his left hand. The vegetables were smashed into a limp ball, and the slender shredded radish mixed with it was picked out by him and thrown out in disgust.

——with Dicky Bird chattering "little d, picky eaters will not grow tall".

If Ah Fu hadn't just left, he wished he could overturn the whole plate.

When Damian tried to poke a hole in the plate with a fork, Dick turned his head and said briskly to Damian: "Stop, little d, Afu will not be happy, he likes this tableware very much."

At the same time, he suppressed a smile, and his eyes fell on Damian's right arm wrapped like a mummy-Aftu, and then Damian gave him a stare.

He blinked and teased: "Pay attention to your hands."

In fact, there is no big problem, but who can refuse the strict care from the old housekeeper?

"Make your cereal, Grayson." Damian snapped back angrily, but slowed down.

Yes, as soon as Damian came back last night, he was wrapped into rice dumplings by the angry Ah Fu.It is worth mentioning that the two "dear" brothers made great efforts to restrain him.

It's all fucking plastic bromance.

The benevolent and coercive old housekeeper, A Fu, had something to say when he packed the medical box: "Perhaps tight bandaging can prevent some dangers."

The three little birds huddled together and wisely shut up.

Today's Steward Xia still sits firmly at the top of the food chain.

"I could knock Drake down with one hand."

Damian was irritable like a small firecracker about to explode, and desperately needed an outlet, so he turned the cannon on Tim.

Tim, who was struggling with sleepiness, was caught off guard and lay down.

"Shut up, little devil," Tim raised his eyelids, and said in a weak voice, "I didn't mess with you."

But he made up his mind to fight back, in case the little bastard kicked his nose in the face.

Tim put down his spoon, picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth: "I think the Wayne Group must increase some funding for the construction of Gotham City. For example, the missing children's agency and the like."

The cubs are not worried.

"—to prevent my little brother from getting lost again."

Damian yelled angrily: "Drake, come fight!"

He was irritated successfully, planning to jump up and put the plate in front of Tim in the face.

Tim rolled his eyes.

"No, sit down, I don't have time to fight with you." With a weak voice, Tim stood up with the back of the chair, and was about to go back to the room.

Dick, who was engrossed in eating, grabbed Damian by the back of his collar and stopped him from jumping across the table.

The hard-working mother bird patted Damian's shoulder inarticulately: "It's just a joke, little D."

Damian had jumped onto the table, slapping Dick's blocking arm away with his left hand - the one with the sole privilege of freedom.

"Give it up, Grayson."

"Crack—" The door suddenly opened.

Jason Todd interrupts an impending domestic violence event as he pushes through the door.

"What are you doing?"

Everyone turned to him, and Jason felt a little uncomfortable with those gazes.

"Little Wing!" Dick let go, leaping forward to give Jason a hug in surprise, er, he was dodged.

"It's so rare, I didn't expect you to come now, Little Wing, I thought you went back to catch up on sleep." Dick's eyes flashed, he turned his head to greet Tim who had just got himself out of the chair, and gave a nod Tone, "Tim?"

"Come to eat together?" He put his arms around Jason's neck, dragged him to the table, and blinked, "I can give you a packet of cereal."

"No, I'm not hungry." Jason, who hadn't eaten all day, spoke stiffly, but he didn't push Dick away.

"Why is the devil boy standing on the table?" Jason noticed Damian, who jumped down with a snort.

It can't be that he finally has a correct understanding of the fact that his family is the shortest.

"Because he's grounded," Tim interjects.

Jason was surprised: "What the hell kind of logic is this?"

Why do you have to climb the table when you are grounded?Relying on short legs to jump on the table to commit suicide?

"Given that, you have to let him release the energy that has nowhere to rest," Tim shrank into the chair and yawned, "I guess you can let Titus hang around... Sorry, let him go to the garden to hang out with Titus."

Titus is a black dog raised by Damian.

"Do you have any last words? Drake!"

Damian bit down hard, and he clenched the fork with his left hand across his chest, as if he was going to stab Tim in the next second.His knife was confiscated.

"Quiet, devil bastard." Jason cleared his throat impatiently, interrupted him by knocking on the edge of the table, and then turned to Dick.

"Where's Bruce?"

"Don't play haha, I know you know his whereabouts."

All eyes turned to Dick now, and so did Tim.All he knew was that Bruce had rushed back last night.

Tim took a bite of the cookie he snatched from Dick, thinking blankly, rushing back to take a look at his frightened little son.

Dick spread his hands: "Uh, he rushed back to look at little D, and then hurried back, as if there was something urgent."

Seeing that his younger brothers were still staring at him, he shrugged his shoulders and said in an exaggerated tone, "You don't expect me to find something out of Batman's mouth, do you?"

This is true, no one really expects.

—But he did guess something, but brother still needs a little secret.

Damian pushed Jason away with one hand and came over. His face was full of shock, and he selectively ignored the second half of the sentence: "Wait? Did father come back? When?"

"While you were sleeping soundly in bed." Tim took a stabbing blow, and added with ulterior motives, "He squeezed the corner of the quilt for you by the way."

"You actually installed a monitor in my room while I was away?" Damian gritted his teeth and asked.

He was so annoyed now that he wished he could shake his exhausted self awake, and only when he came back did he realize how Tim knew.

"Yes." Tim admitted generously, "You're not here anyway."

"Maybe tonight you can get under the covers of Bruce and cry in his arms, he won't refuse you," Tim said blankly, "I promise."

Damian, Damian looks damned overwhelmed.

"Cough," Jason had to interrupt them, and after finishing his words, he stared at the little Robin: "Damian, tell me—"

"Talia only made you a brat, didn't you?"

Damian felt that the Mercury was really retrograde these days, and everyone came to test his patience.

His tone was not very good: "What do you mean? Todd."

Damian was not born naturally, but the only "Damian" who survived.Everyone present obviously knew this, and Jason quickly realized that he had said something wrong, and he murmured angrily in a low voice.

"I mean, that is, do you have a sister?"

He explained briefly, concealing some content.

Dicky Bird looked ignorant, it couldn't be that everyone's memory was wrong, right?

So Jason guessed that the League of Assassins did the trick.Otherwise it wouldn't be enough to explain the damned familiarity.Maybe he bumped into them when he was unconscious, maybe they got along for a while.

But Damian let him down—

"No." Damian froze for a moment, then calmed down.He frowned and stared into Jason's eyes.

Their eyes met, and two deep and cold dark greens collided.

"I am sure."

Damian's determined gaze overwhelmed Jason.

"What's her name?" Damian asked back.

Jason's expression froze: ... Fuck, what's the name of that kid.

It was so oddly familiar that he forgot to ask for the name.

Nobody asks for an old friend's name.If one day he asks what the arsenal is called, that idiot might send him to the hospital to have his brain checked.

"I glued a tracker on her—" It's temporarily disabled, Jason thought, but it's okay, there's no one the Red Hood can't find.

"Dorothy Wayne." Tim opened his mouth calmly.

Jason was shocked and turned to look at Xiaohong: ... Fuck.

"Why do you—" before he could finish, he heard Tim add slowly.

"I hacked into the Wayne Collection and found a strange name inside."

Red Robin has keen detective and reasoning abilities. In this regard, he is most like Batman, and his tracking ability is solo.

Dick gave a dry laugh, bowed his head and stuffed another cookie into his mouth.

"Actually, if you hadn't called me, I might have found out by now."

Tim held his coffee up to the tip of his nose.

Jason continued dryly: "Okay, now this is our little secret."

A coalition that hates each other.

"What's the little secret?" A pleasant voice pierced through them interrupting them.

"Would you mind letting dear papa hear?"

Batman, wrapped in Baby Bruce's candy shell, opened the door and walked in, holding little Dorothy by his side.

"puff--"

Tim's coffee squirts all over.