66 Gotham: This is how farmers eat their own food

74.

Sure enough, the kiwi jumped up again.

These NPCs are really kind and fragile. I must avoid them next time I do anything. The farmer looked at the two kind-hearted people who were accidentally injured while helping others. With a responsible attitude, he pulled Lincoln March's hand and said, "Let me see!"

Lincoln March's deep blue eyes were misted with pain. When Aria pulled him, she only heard a slight hiss from him, but he showed her his arm obediently.

To be honest, the farmer couldn't tell what the name was. He just felt that his hand was soft and felt like it was broken. He quickly said, "Don't worry, don't worry. I brought other food."

She reorganized the supplies for the others, spared two pieces of parsnip and stuffed them into Lincoln March's pockets. She said with some regret, "I can't see the health bars of my allies, so I can't judge your status."

"Try this first. If your hand still can't recover, I'll think of other ways." It seems that we have to put the production of life potion on the agenda. Otherwise, given their physical fitness, Aria is worried that one day they will be injured and die before they can eat to recover their blood.

In the farmer's world, there was no concept of going to the hospital for injuries—if anything ails her, she'd just eat something and be fine. If things didn't work out, she'd just die, and she'd eventually wake up in Harvey's clinic or in her bed. So she felt a bit helpless when dealing with NPCs, as if they'd just run off and die somewhere in the city if she wasn't paying attention.

Catching the other party's unusual choice of words again, Lincoln March smiled bitterly: "Thank you, Aria."

The parsnip she took out looked ordinary from all angles, and Lincoln couldn't see anything wrong for the time being. But when he turned to Wayne, he saw Bruce Wayne's little trick - the cunning Bruce took advantage of Aria's attention and covered it with his sleeve, pretending to eat the carrot. In fact, the thing was hidden somewhere he didn't know.

Wayne's cautious attitude towards it aroused his interest - according to Aria, what she took out had healing effects - although he currently didn't understand whether it was magic or something else, the "simple" Wayne should not be suspicious of this thing.

Did he already know something, so he wasn't even willing to do this superficial effort?

Lincoln March pretended not to notice and reached out to take the fruit Aria handed him. This thing would have other research value if he took it back. If the court didn't notice the gift he received, he would rather keep this research for himself...

But the most important thing is to take this opportunity to get closer to Aria, her value is much greater than this thing.

Lincoln March reached out to catch it, but he subconsciously used his dominant hand. His left hand, which was suspected to be fractured, was so severe that even connecting the two wind parsnips had become a burden. With uncontrollable trembling, the two round wind parsnips were about to fall to the ground.

The farmer quickly picked them up with a worried look on his face: "Can you still eat by yourself like this? Do you need me to feed you?" Although Bruce Wayne's hands were injured, both hands could still help him eat normally. Lincoln March was different. He now only had one hand that he could use.

In fact, his other hand could still be used... But fortunately, he had originally just wanted to win over the other party, and now that there was a new opportunity, Lincoln March would naturally seize it.

The act of feeding animals itself has the meaning of "domestication", not to mention that in human social interaction, feeding is classified as an ambiguous act only done by close friends. Lincoln March was stunned for a moment, and a blush immediately appeared on his ears.

He was like some large, docile herbivore. He lowered his head slightly, peering at her through his long eyelashes, as if to confirm her good intentions. "Then thank you for your help, Miss Aria."

"It's no big deal," Aria waved her hand. She took a step back and raised the parsnips above her head with both hands—that's how farmers in Stardew Valley eat their own food!

Lincoln March had a rather ominous premonition. He had relied on this almost beast-like intuition to pass the court's trial, but now...

Lincoln March was wavering between obeying his instinct to avoid and suppressing his instinct to accept, and Aria had already followed his next move.

After measuring the angle, she threw the parsnip into the air with her right hand like a well-designed catapult. The beige and round object was precisely guided by the track towards his mouth.

His movements were faster than the rationality in his brain. By the time Lincoln March reacted, he had already bitten the parsnip.

…

Sweet parsnip juice flowed into Lincoln March's throat through the broken hole, and the slight fatigue in his body disappeared completely in an instant.

At this moment, even the most miraculous effects wouldn't have piqued Lincoln March's interest. If this were a circus, the audience would have applauded and cheered for this exquisite performance. But now, Lincoln March felt only shame. He felt like a black hole. Even though there were only the three of them, the gazes from all sides were inescapable, streaming down him.

Aria smiled, as if she was just doing an ordinary, daily thing like getting dressed and eating, and tossed another parsnip in her hand, as if waiting for him to finish eating before doing it again.

Lincoln March could guess what the farmer was saying without her saying anything. He was silent for three seconds, then cast his eyes filled with help towards the other person present.

——Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne's gaze stubbornly escaped the gravity of the black hole and fell on the floor in front of him. The arc of light reflected by the broken glass on the floor attracted him, even more fascinating than the perfect Gotham acrobatic performance just now.

"..." He suddenly wanted to quit the Court of Owls and let Lincoln March die somewhere in Gotham.

…

The farmer finally felt relieved after replenishing his energy in a way that Lincoln March never wanted to recall.

She didn't know that Bruce Wayne had received death threats before, and just thought it was an accident caused by her: "Thank you for saving me!"

Touching her head, Aria belatedly realized that her hair seemed to have been blown into a mess during the falling game just now. However, that was not the point: "I got you hurt. This time, it's my fault."

She smiled, showing an apologetic puppy dog ​​eye: "If you encounter any trouble in the future, just come to me, I will definitely help you if I can!"

Of course, she would be even happier if everyone posted tasks for her to do. The farmer had been wanting to do the help-seeking task for a long time! When would she finally have her beloved task bar? She couldn't just ask Lewis for it, right?

Wait...it doesn't seem to be impossible.

Having decided to send some suggestions to the mayor's mailbox later, Aria started to run. Before leaving, she did not forget to pick up all the glass fragments on the ground - these could be dyed to make beautiful clothes.

Of course, she also did not forget to remind them to be careful. After all, with Owl's arrogance, this fire might burn ordinary people at any time.

"But there's no need to worry too much. I'll find them soon." Aria was full of confidence, more like a new and passionate rookie in the GCPD than a farmer.

By then, all their strongholds will belong to her!

Seeing Aria skipping away with dried blood on her clothes, Lincoln March was somewhat incredulous: "You just let her go like that?"

The one who answered him was Bruce Wayne with an innocent expression: "...Can either of us stop her?"

Really… No, realizing that his train of thought had nearly been led astray, Lincoln March quickly adjusted his tone, adding a hint of worry: "I'm just a little worried."

"If the mayor is being hunted down because she sent Miss Aria to work for him, wouldn't she be in even greater danger in the future?" Lincoln March seemed to have made up his mind and continued, "Bruce, you know that in Gotham, it's no small feat to become mayor."

"You might think I'm jealous, after all, Mayor Lewis 'blocked' my path to becoming mayor." He mercilessly dissected himself, revealing his inner thoughts to the other party: "But I still insist that Gotham does not need a mayor who puts a good person like Miss Aria on the edge of a knife."

He wanted to say something more, but Bruce Wayne seemed tired, so Lincoln March stopped the deep conversation and turned to a joke.

"Maybe I'll meet with Mayor Lewis sometime," he said with a smile as he pressed the elevator button for the two of them to go down. "Maybe I can change his mind."

…

During dinnertime, when Damian was having extracurricular activities or the other members of the family were out, the table rules at Wayne Manor were often "accidentally" relaxed. Wherever Bruce Wayne went, it naturally became a makeshift dining table—even if he was focused on an experiment, Alfred would always appear at the perfect moment, holding a silver tray and keeping his composure.

"Master, I'm sorry to interrupt your research," Alfred reminded in a calm tone, "but the time has come when you need to stay alive."

"Just leave it there, Alfred."

Wayne was slicing carrots. Although the last similar experiment confirmed that what Aria sent out were just ordinary crops, today undoubtedly provided Batman with a new idea - this might be the product of magical enchantment, so it has "healing" function.

He would send some of the slices to Zatanna, who knew more and would hopefully reveal to him some of the rules Aria followed.

Alfred was no longer surprised by his master's words. If it were a few years ago, he would have believed it. An hour later, all he had waiting for him was untouched and completely cold food.

Now, Wayne Manor's butler has mastered the art of British humor to help Wayne improve his sense of time. "If you're planning to dissect this carrot to determine if it's harmful, I can simply provide you with the research report: its ingredients are harmless and its effects are remarkable. The only side effect might be that it will give you a better vision advantage when traveling in Gotham at night, so you don't mistake streetlights for Bat Signals."

Alfred sighed softly, "It's a pity you don't prefer this."

"However, if it is to create a new kind of fear among criminals, then please go ahead."

After hearing this, even the toughest Batman would be defeated. Bruce Wayne had no choice but to clean up the mess and add the temporary task of "eating" to his to-do list.

"Miss Stephanie came this afternoon while you were away." Alfred began to set the table according to table etiquette. Today's dinner was steamed fish with lemongrass and green beans with mint butter. The soup was moved to after the night patrol.

Master Wayne rarely orders dishes, but most of the time he is like a picky gourmet, so the butler can only dance with safe ingredients and try to ensure that every meal is to his liking.

"I know that," Wayne nodded. "Which refrigerator did she put the body in?"

"Number three."

For some reason, he prioritized dissecting Aria's crops over the corpse. He would begin the work after his night patrol, but now...

Batman frowned.

"master?"

He stood up and retrieved the Batcomputer, intercepted the abnormal video from the hundreds of surveillance videos in every corner of Gotham, and put it on the main screen.

Someone quietly climbed onto the roof of the GCPD building and secretly placed something under the bat light.

Looking at that familiar figure, Bruce Wayne suppressed the urge to sigh.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred asked in confusion.

"Nothing." Batman put on the beeping communication device. It was not completely dark yet, but it looked like he would have to start his night patrol early today.

He got on the Batmobile and carefully adjusted its status:

"Alfred, I'll be back to eat later."

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Lincoln March: I want to die, but I'd better live first

Bruce Picky Wayne: Doesn't like carrots