122. Lincoln March: Night? Owl?

"Bang!"

If it were any ordinary thug, this punch would be enough to knock them away.

But Lincoln March was only knocked back violently, his body staggering.

A hoarse, trembling laugh then escaped from his throat.

"Haha..." He chuckled, vague but satisfied: "What a warm way to greet, Miss Aria."

“It just makes me miss it a little bit.”

In response, the farmer wielded the Galaxy Sword. Aria thrust the blade forward, transforming the ambiguous atmosphere he had deliberately created into a murderous one.

"When did you escape?" asked the farmer.

Lincoln March raised his hands cooperatively but didn't answer. His gaze fell on her like a rainy night in Gotham, heavy and sticky.

He was no longer the Lincoln March who had moved effortlessly through Gotham's celebrity cocktail parties, chatting and laughing. He was a court outcast, a name destined to rot in the files of Arkham Asylum.

——But in front of the farmer, the desire to perform deep in his bones is still burning.

"Not long ago."

"But don't you want to know something more important than this?"

"Like...why am I looking for you?"

Lincoln March tried to maintain the illusion of being in control of everything. He threw out topics like bait, but unfortunately the farmer was like an unpolished dagger. Even if he didn't pierce his mask at this moment, there would always be other rough spots that would expose Lincoln March's self-righteousness.

"Are you here to retrieve your brooch?"

"I took good care of that brooch for you, but it's not with me now." She tapped his face with the cold blade of the Galaxy Sword as a deterrent. "If you behave yourself and don't mess around while Zuzu City is in chaos, I'll return it to you."

The answer was different from what I expected...but the result was satisfying.

"It's good that you still have it. But you don't have to give it back to me."

Farmer: ...I feel like the brooch has become strange. I must take it out and isolate it when I get back.

Lincoln March lowered his eyes. In the past, doing so could maximize the farmer's protective instinct, but now Aria has developed super strong defense. Even if Bruce Wayne himself stood in front of her and tried to dodge, it would be useless.

"I'm here to invite you to watch the end of the Bat and the beginning of a new order."

"...I've always said that this city would eventually drain Batman of his life. Now is the time for that prophecy to come true."

Aria wasn't fooled by the rhetoric. She grabbed his uniform with such force that she almost lifted Night Owl off the ground. "Speak something I can understand! Otherwise, I..."

Her eyes swept over the rusted steel beams around her, her threat obvious: "I'll hang you up there and use the whip to make you explain yourself!"

Compared to Batman, this method was completely harmless. Lincoln March suppressed the laughter that threatened to burst out of his throat: "Knowing that Batman is about to die makes you so nervous?"

That was a bit of a dilemma, and Lincoln March sometimes hesitated between preventing others from attacking the bats and cutting off the farmer's important connection with the world.

But he decided to finish what he was saying.

"The guy from the antimatter universe has set his sights on Batman. Although he's missing now, the Gotham Knights won't abandon Gotham - this is bound to be a fierce battle."

Aria put him down and mentioned that Batman needed help. Her back and legs no longer hurt, and her stamina and health bars felt full again. "Lincoln March, when are you going to be honest?"

The farmer sighed softly, "There's really no shame in asking me for help."

She really can't stand city people anymore, they keep going around in circles and acting like a riddler.

Unfortunately, Lincoln March was unwilling to accept this favor. He seemed to be offended by her words. His carefully maintained elegant demeanor was crushed to pieces by the farmer. He opened his mouth to refute: "I don't..."

Tired of continuing to listen to Night Owl's neurotic chatter, Aria covered his mouth.

Lincoln March: ...Ha.

He had smelled the scent of sunshine on her before, with a hint of desert roughness, and when he half-forced her into his arms like this, the feeling of being surrounded was even more obvious.

The farmer never seemed to realize how attractive he was to him, so before it was too late, or before this ridiculous disguise was completely torn apart, Night Owl decided to mercifully remind him one last time.

The farmer had imagined the two worst outcomes - either Lincoln March would be dissatisfied and fight with her; or he would bite her and deduct some blood.

But she hadn't expected the feeling under her palm.

It wasn't the tension of anger, nor the trembling of humiliation. Aria's palms could clearly feel Lincoln March's cheek muscles twitching at an extremely slow speed, eventually outlining a curve that made her scalp tingle.

Lincoln March narrowed his eyes slightly, and after catching Aria's momentary stiff expression, the arc of his eyes widened.

Aria: ...

She calmly let him go, rubbing her hands on his court uniform like a puppy that likes to lick people.

Now Nite Owl finally gets a chance to finish his line: "...at least...Batman must die by my hand."

In fact, he didn't have to finish what he said. Just now, the farmer was very doubtful about the correctness of his decision to save the city.

If this city were full of people like Night Owl, let the fire of Sodom fall.

…

However, for the sake of the truly righteous man, she decided to go anyway.

Compared to the ground world full of surveillance, the Gotham sewers are always a better choice.

The farmer sometimes forgets that Lincoln March actually has good fighting skills. When she encounters a difficult pass, she will subconsciously look back to see if he needs help.

——Or maybe she was just trying to see if he fell to his death. Ever since she got involved with him, Aria found it increasingly difficult to distinguish between her concern and her wish for him to suffer misfortune.

She didn't know who was repairing it, but the sewer lighting was always in better condition than the last time she came, and the farmers hardly needed the Ring of Glory anymore.

So she took off her Ring of Radiance and used the materials she had on her body to make a sturdy ring.

Considering that Lincoln March was currently her teammate, the farmer took some time to make another battle ring.

Night Owl was visibly stunned when he received the ring. Just in case this guy was thinking of something strange again, the farmer quickly added: "Remember to return it to me after the fight. This was very difficult to make."

I don’t know why, but it feels like Night Owl seems... a little happy?

…

The only sound in the sewers was the farmer's footsteps—thumps that echoed throughout Gotham's underworld, strangely attracting no predators.

She asked Night Owl: "Gotham is so big, where do you think the villain from the antimatter universe will go?"

Night Owl paused, and Aria unexpectedly felt the thick and insoluble pain emanating from him: "...Wayne Manor."

————————

Um……

Anyway, this branch may be more inclined to black mud (? A little taste