[Zhongyingmei] The style of the game is wrong

"Well, it's a little crooked."

Little Dorothy stepped on the small stool brought out from the house, and lay down in front of Jason's door to stick the door plate.She tilted her head to measure it, then raised her hand to pinch the upper right corner and moved it up a bit.

It's like a little white dumpling that is only tentatively arching around.

This is what Jason saw when he came back from Alfred.

"what are you doing?"

"Little Wing!" Dorothy turned, and her blue eyes lit up. "I'm posting the house number!"

Dorothy let go of her hand, and the giant paper-shaped door plate that hadn't been completely glued was shaking.

"I just finished writing it!" She liked Jason very much, and she always had endless words to say to him.

She turned quickly and moved the chair under her feet. When the chair shook, it caused little Dorothy to stagger, and she subconsciously grabbed the back of the chair.

Jason, who was still on the stairs, rushed over to stabilize Dorothy.

Hands across the top of her head pressed down on the door plate that was about to fall to the ground, pressed it straight and straightened it, took the glue handed over by Dorothy, and it stuck.

He lifted Dorothy down, and squinted at her.

It's one of those, uh, graffiti he's seen before.

"House number?" Jason asked uncertainly, looking away from his eyes and turned to the other side. Dorothy had a similar one on her own door, the one he noticed had a resemblance between the front half and the back of his jacket. open.

"Jason's den," Dorothy pointed at Jason's, then pointed to her own door, "Dorothy's den."

She raised her head and blinked her eyes, looking cute and waiting for praise.

Jason choked: ... so it was "Dorothy".

Sure enough, the fashion boy Dick's aesthetic vision cannot be trusted.

Don't talk, throw the pot first.

—and then he disarmed in Dorothy's expectant eyes.

"Writing... very creative." The literary youth praised against his will. He was a little guilty at first, but then he said more and more smoothly, "Innovatively added artistic elements."

By the way, he touched Dorothy's soft hair.It's not his fault, Jason thought calmly, men who raise cubs are sweet - except for Bruce.

The sweet-mouthed milk can't hold the cubs. For a detailed case, please refer to the system that was unconsciously left behind by Dorothy, who was reluctant to leave.

The system that is not sweet: ... Heh.

However, Jason was a little worried. He was considering whether to find a tutor for Dorothy to supplement her lessons. During the previous relationship, he discovered that Dorothy didn't seem to have experienced systematic education.

The most obvious point is that I can't write English well.

This is weird again, Jason frowned, he wasn't sure if it had something to do with memory loss.

Dorothy is undoubtedly a girl with a high IQ. She has a good eye for inferences and is very keen and intelligent... Jason can't finish talking, but she is just using her talent instinctively.

While packing up his things, Jason drove Dorothy to bed. He untied the ribbons tied on both sides, pulled the curtains together with both hands, and covered Dorothy tightly.

Effectively avoid some dark, yes, some.He doubted that Red Robin could suppress the curiosity he had picked up from the old bat.

The monitor on the table had indeed self-destructed, Jason took off the damaged small metal piece, held it between his fingers and fiddled with it for a moment.Before leaving, he picked up the small flower pot and watered the carrots.

"Can I watch cartoons for a while?" Dorothy poked her head out from between the bed curtains, and shook her little finger again. She blinked, "Just watch one more episode."

Episode after episode, don't stay up all night, just stay up all night.

"No, it's too late, go to bed." Jason turned around and hugged his chest, as if a mother bird possessed him for a moment.

"Okay. Good night, Jason." Dorothy made a gesture of zipping, shrank back, and remained silent for a while.

"Good night."

Jason turned off the light and closed the door softly.

The immature handwriting in water pink in front of his door waved to him cheerfully.

"Hello, new house number." He whispered, squatted down and fumbled along the carpet in front of the door, and found the key that Bruce had hidden.He held the key with complicated emotions.

He was restless at the time, made up an excuse to sneak out of the Batcave, and ignored Tim's prying eyes—Jason felt that the kid might have guessed something, but he didn't care about it now—and went straight to Alfred Germany's room.

Alfred put down the book in his hand, stood up, and patiently listened to Jason's incoherent narration.

A large part of it is trying to prove that I don't care, and I just happen to come and ask when I have time.

Alfred knocked heavily on the table, he was very angry: "I can't believe it, Master Bruce promised to deliver it to you."

Dear Batman assures the old butler just about the time he and the Red Hood are barely dead.

In the frustration and bewilderment that Jason tried to hide but still showed, Alfred sighed with a headache.

He told Jason one thing.

During the gloomy days when the second-generation Robin had an accident, Nightwing and Batman had a fierce fight in the corridor or at the door of Jason's room.

The tragic degree can also be heard in Alfred's artistically processed description.

Jason automatically translated it as: scuffling from the room to the corridor, and finally fell all together, smashing the floor of the hall, not only the door, but even half of the stair railing was broken.After that, almost everything from the lobby to the third floor was renovated.

It's mixed with chagrin, regret, sharp questioning, and perhaps hysterical cursing from a breakdown.

Maybe the recording can directly send Batman and Nightwing to make a group debut, suppressing the heat of the reunion next door in one fell swoop, Jason is having fun.

—Okay, okay, it's not funny, at least Jason can't laugh now.

He rubbed his nose in embarrassment, even if—yes, even if his brain was finally reduced to the same level as Nightwing's aesthetics, he could figure out that he was the breaking point.

at such a sensitive time.

Jason scratched unconsciously with his hands on his knees, his eyes wandering.

No one had ever told him about it, not Nightwing or Batman, neither.

So when he found that the door lock had been changed and he couldn't get in, he chose to leave.

"...I don't know about it." He softened, "but why didn't he change the same lock..."

He fell silent before he finished speaking, and he also knew that there was no reason at all, and no one knew that people would come back from the dead, especially in such a chaotic situation.

Jason felt as if he was being unreasonable.

The old man looked at him tolerantly: "I don't deny that silence is golden, but I think frank communication is more lovable in most cases."

Jason twisted his shoulders, pretending to be relaxed and said, "Why don't you deduct his week's cookies?"

"Good idea," Alfred smiled, "Then they are all yours, Master Jason."

"Hopefully you'll be able to eat at the dinner table every day," he hinted.

"Of course." Jason turned around and hugged Alfred, "I'm going to stay, because I'm an idiot... a teammate took away my account privately."

Alfred thoughtfully did not expose Jason's little thoughts, "Happy to help."

"I'm sure Miss Dorothy will be pleased too."

The only one who would be unhappy would probably be Batman, who was deducted from the cookie for a week, but he would be happy in the end, Alfred thought with relief.

Jason threw himself on the bed as soon as he entered the door, the soft touch wrapped around him.

He wanted to try his best to sort out his thoughts and solve the doubt that the sense of weirdness finally descended from spirit to reality.

"At least it means I'm not crazy." He muttered.

But sleepiness swept over, and the red hood that had softened his whole body couldn't resist it.

Tomorrow, everything will be discussed tomorrow, he thought in a daze.

He fell asleep.

After Jason turned off the lights and left, there was silence in Dorothy's room.

There was a slight rustling sound outside the door, followed by the sound of a key being screwed into the keyhole and opening the door. With a light knock on the door, the corridor returned to silence.

Dorothy lay on the bed and listened until there was no more sound in the corridor. She quietly opened her eyes and lifted the bed curtain to take a look.

All safe, no surprises.

Then she quickly took out the tablet from under the pillow, plugged in the earphones, and pulled off the horned hood to wrap herself into a small ball.

Little Dorothy's baby fat face was full of seriousness.

Door, bed curtain, quilt, three layers of protection are more durable.

Animation, start!

Bruce returned with a tired body. He turned around on the stairs and stood outside Jason's door for a while.

Alfred informed Jason of the stay during his night watch.

Batman captures three fugitives from Arkham, and learns from Gordon that there is a kid who imitates Batman called "catman".

"Do you care about your fanatical little fan? He wants GCPD to kick you out."

"I've always disapproved of kids being vigilantes."

Gordon stood by the Bat-Light and babbled, jokingly complaining that he didn't turn his head like Batman.But the latter sentence directly touched his sensitive nerves.

"He sent the Mad Hatter."

The Mad Hatter who is good at brainwashing and control is undoubtedly not a good stubble. He has escaped from Batman several times, but the Mad Hatter will not do meaningless things, especially when he is being hunted by Batman. The biggest factor that lures him to take risks is—— "Alice" in his mind.

Thumping on the back of the head, resisting mind control, maybe it was Goldilocks, and Batman identified the target.

He returned to Arkham for interrogation, and as he expected, the Mad Hatter called her "Alice".

——It is "she", not "he".

Catman is Alice, Alice who came out of the other world with Robin.

In addition, the Mad Hatter kept silent and refused to cooperate.

Batman resorted to means.

"That's my little Alice, old Bat, you can't take it from me!" the Mad Hatter became more insane, he muttered.Batman patiently picked up clues from the babble.

Learning that the Mad Hatter has never seen Alice's face, he turns to investigate where they met.

Never mind, Batman will always find out.

The "catman" who appeared suddenly did not appear tonight, and Batman squatted in the cold wind and did not catch anyone.

He told Gordon to keep an eye on the "catman" and headed home—a little earlier than usual.

He came straight up from the Batcave, his black uniform still on, making it look like Batman was hiding in the shadows.

The newly posted door plate caught his attention, and Batman rubbed it lightly through the tactical glove.

very gentle.

His hand was already on the doorknob outside Jason's room, but it was locked. Batman had the key on him, but he didn't open it.

Maybe saying "good morning" at the dinner table is a good choice.

Batman walked to Dorothy's house, her door was closed by Jason from the outside, and there was no lock on the inside.

Dorothy was going through a difficult period of staying up all night, and the sound from the headphones clouded her sensitive hearing.

Dorothy, who was watching vigorously, suddenly felt that something was wrong. She got her little head out of the rolled quilt, and there was still a cartoon on the tablet in her hand.

The moonlight fell, the bed curtain was lifted, and a huge shadow was cast on Dorothy.

She raised her head stiffly, and a black Batman stood beside her bed, staring at her.

"Dad, help!!!"

A scream rang through Wayne Manor, and Jason rolled out of bed in shock.