If you look down from the sky above the East Coast of the United States, many cities are brightly lit, never sleeping.
On the most prosperous coastline on Earth, aside from the glowing, dazzling Metropolis that is like a dazzling gemstone, there is also the mysterious, eerie, yet ever-shining Gotham.
Fog shrouds Gotham today, making the city seem like a beast peering out from the clouds. The early-lit lighthouse on the coast serves as the eyes of the beast gazing into the distance.
It's another foggy night. The cold, damp fog spreading across the streets brings to mind the recent disaster that has yet to recede.
Surprisingly, the crazy inhabitants of this city are not scared at all.
The previously densely populated areas, where vendor stalls and food trucks lit up the night, have been replaced by silhouettes darting between skyscrapers erected by Wayne Enterprises, and street lights illuminating the dense layers of the Iron Jungle hemmed in between these towering structures.
Between the damp fog, another type of smoke ascends, and following the curvy wisp of mist, there's not some terrifying thing, but the steam of barbecues and beers.
A man bites into the root of a skewer, and with a strong pull, stuffs the sizzling, greasy, and roasted kebab into his mouth. Accompanied by a gulp of ice-cold beer, Tire, sitting on a low stool, sighs with satisfaction.
He looks up at the massive greenhouse-like walls and roof composed of steel frames and glass, shakes his head, and says: "Wayne Enterprises really knows its stuff. If it were in the past, this kind of weather wouldn't just ruin the barbeque, it would probably make fresh bread hard to come by."
By his side, a man decked out in gold chains and metallic accessories named Red Truck comments in a rap-like tone:
"Bread? Man, are you joking? Normally, in this kind of weather, the kids on the streets would be lucky to find some leftover food! In this humidity, the charcoal won't even light. And even if it did, we wouldn't dare make so much smoke. That's like telling all those ill-intentioned people that there are easy targets here."
Suddenly, Tire turns to look at Jason, who has just put down his skewer, stood up, picked up some discarded newspapers from the table to wipe his hands, and then his mouth, and says, "You guys carry on eating, I have to make a trip to Wayne Manor. Dick's condition isn't great, and I'm worried Bruce can't cope on his own."
"You're always worrying about that rich guy." Tire shakes his head and says, "Instead of eating more meat here, are you planning to go to their house to eat some vegetable leaves? Don't buy into their healthy living bullshit. You're growing, you need to eat more meat to be stronger."
Jason waves his hand nonchalantly and says, "I've had enough to eat already. And besides, Alfred will certainly have a steaming hot loaf of bread waiting for me in the oven. Tomorrow morning, I'll take care of breakfast for the kids on the second floor."
Red Truck and Tire high-five, and Red Truck tilts his head and says, "I'm going to tell the fat guy on the third floor and the big eater on the fourth to squeeze onto the second floor to eat. Let's show that rich guy our strength!"
The two of them burst into laughter. Jason shakes his head, pushes the chair behind him away, stands up, and leaves.
Heading outside on such a foggy night is not a wise decision. But for a sleek black car racing through the streets, any danger would be left behind by its extreme speed.
The figure in the driver seat, clutching the steering wheel, also has two pointy ears, but it's not Batman. Jason turns towards the Catwoman who is driving and says: "Miss Selina, no offense to your driving skills, but I want to ask, what's wrong with Bruce? Why didn't he come to pick me up?"
Uncharacteristically, Selina doesn't joke around. Her beautiful face appears a bit worried. She sighs gently and says: "Around 7 p.m. tonight, just after dinner, Tim was dropped off by the Drakes. It seems they hoped Bruce would take Tim to a family banquet at the Falcones."
Jason frowns and asks, "I've heard of Old Drake. His business is doing well, isn't it? Why does he have to rely on the Wayne Family?"
"Who in this city doesn't rely on the Wayne Family?" Selina shakes her head while steering the car and says, "Old Drake wants to make further inroads with the Twelve Families. Tim is smart enough to handle it all, so Bruce agreed."
She sighs again and says, "Everything was normal at first, but for some reason, around 8 p.m., Dick suddenly had a panic attack and struggled to breathe. Bruce had to take him back to his room and stay with him."
"Bruce was going to come pick you up after Dick fell asleep, but Dick's condition is not good. He was afraid that leaving might disturb him, so he had to stay at the Manor and sent me to pick you up."
"How could this happen?" Jason says, pursing his lips. Then, as if remembering something, he says, "Could it be a sequel of the hypnosis?"
"Bruce thinks so. Tim feels that everything is the damn V's fault." Selina frowns, controlling the car. As she drives around a corner, the lights of Wayne Manor come into view at the end of the road.
The warm light was diffused in the fog, making it impossible to judge the distance. Selina skillfully drove the car into the garage. Jason hopped out of the car in a bit of a hurry, but when he entered the manor hall, he saw Alfred preparing a tie.
As soon as Jason had come in, Bruce, dressed in a suit, came downstairs. Seeing Jason come in, he waved at him and said, "You're just in time. I'm going to attend a family banquet at Falcone Manor. The Falcones and Cobblepot will be there as well. You can discuss your concerns about the Children's Gang with him."
Hearing Bruce say this, Jason didn't look pleased, on the contrary, he frowned deeply, looking at Bruce, he said, "How's Dick? Is he okay?"
Bruce gently shook his head, his gaze intently on Jason as he said, "I know what you want to ask. Why am I not staying at home with Dick, but going out for social engagement? I don't want to go. However, I have to."
Seeing the disapproving look on Jason's face, Bruce said, "It's not what you think. It's neither an excuse nor a pretext. You should know about the recent serial killings in Gotham, right?"
"You mean, the case where the victim's ears were cut off first, followed by their eyes being gouged out?"
Bruce nodded, "The first victim was the deputy chief of the police department. Actually, everyone knows that both the chief and the deputy chief of Gotham Police Department are Falcones'. The new Godfather just took charge not too long ago. Of course, he wouldn't take lightly to someone taking a direct shot at him."
"The second victim was a key member of the city government and also a trusted subordinate of Roy, in charge of the most important land auction. To impose his reform policies, Roy naturally would not allow anyone to challenge his authority."
"This Falcone family banquet is a gathering to figure out who initiated this, their purpose, and most importantly, to prevent any misunderstandings amongst them, which could lead to an internal conflict."
Jason's expression softened a bit. He looked at Bruce and said, "Then you and Tim should go. I should stay here with Dick."
"You have to go with me." Bruce turned his head, looking seriously at him, "All the reasons I mentioned above are not the most important reason why I must attend this gathering."
"The most important reason is, Gordon told me some important news he got from an informant. Someone is planning to make a move at this banquet."
"Tim alone should be enough." Jason turned his head to glance at Tim, who was trying on a suit, "His ability to deduce information is impressive. You two together, surely, can handle it, right?"
"But actually, this isn't the most important reason either." As Bruce took the tie and began to tie it, he continued, "The most important thing is, they sent an invitation to Shiller. That professor will be there too."
Jason slowly widened his eyes. Bruce walked over to him, patted his shoulder, and said, "You've already seen Dick's condition. I desperately need a professional psychologist to diagnose him. But the prerequisite is that the psychologist is calm and not a serial killer driven mad by anger."
"You're not suggesting I act as a human shield, are you?" Jason widened his eyes at Bruce, "Are you really Batman?... Don't you feel a bit despicable? I'm just a kid!"
"Listen, Jason, there's an important issue right now." Bruce bent over, looking levelly into Jason's eyes and said seriously, "Shiller is like a slot machine, when you pull the lever, you never know what pattern will stop in front of you next. We don't know, when his mood changes, which personality will be in control."
"The personality who was controlling Shiller's body told me that its about to switch. The one to return might be the professor, or not. It could be another gentle personality... but I can't take that chance."
"Jason, have you ever thought about what might happen if a more ferocious personality returned instead of a gentle one, and a clumsy serial killer recreated not a very spectacular, yet academically plagiaristic case in the middle of the Falcone family banquet?"
Jason palmed his forehead, then he looked at Bruce and said, "But if there really is such a personality, do you think he would care if there were children at the banquet table?"
"Of course not, but Clark is going too. He would consider the presence of children and try to stop Shiller as much as possible."
Jason looked up, took a deep breath, and as he walked towards Alfred, he said, "Where has that Batman gone who never relies on others? A nuclear bomb to stop another nuclear bomb, what an interesting idea!"
Bruce shrugged, "I just realized, in a city full of nuclear bombs, using one bomb to hit another is not a stupid idea. At least, it can prevent a bunch of bombs from exploding all at once, at least for a short while."
Meanwhile, Tim, who was looking up while Alfred adjusted his tie, suddenly shivered, mumbling under his breath, "...I hope you're not jinxing it."