Chapter 83 Not So Unlucky Is Really Not So Unlucky
“Looks like we’re too late,” Dick said, crouching in the bushes. “They should have finished arguing and left by now.”
The late autumn night in Gotham was a bit chilly, and Dick rubbed his hands together.
“Haven’t you noticed that something’s been off about this manor lately?” Jason whispered. “Thomas was impersonated just a while ago, but everyone assumes that the Wayne couple who came back are the real ones.”
Furthermore, he expressed strong doubt that Thomas Jr.'s love for his parents could support him in causing himself such a big problem.
If it were Isaiah Thomas, he probably really would do something like randomly picking two people to play the Wayne couple.
“Even Alfred has no objections,” Dick countered. “You see, the most trustworthy people in the entire Wayne Manor believe they are real, so…look there.”
He pointed to the iron fence across the way.
There was a small point of light that moved nearby.
“What?” Jason squinted. “Where is that? I don’t see it.”
“Camera, there’s someone taking pictures over there,” Dick said, bending down even lower. “Wait for me here.”
After saying that, he casually pulled a grappling hook from his pocket and nimbly darted away.
The person opposite clearly realized he had been discovered. He suddenly stood up from the bushes and turned to run away, but this only exposed him to Dick's gaze.
Dick swung the rope and threw the grappling hook out. The hook passed smoothly through the gap between the fence bars and tripped the man's foot.
“Good evening,” Dick strolled over slowly. “It seems impolite to stick a camera in someone else’s yard… Hey! What’s that kid!”
"What?" Jason jogged over and looked at the child struggling to break free of the grappling hook. "What's going on? Coming here at night to secretly take pictures of other people's tombstones."
“First of all, this is my home,” the bound child retorted, turning over to sit up and examining the grappling hooks binding him. “It is perfectly legitimate for me to wander around my own home. Secondly, now that Dr. Thomas and Mrs. Martha are back, that stone over there can’t be called a tombstone… it can probably be called a monument.”
“Come closer, I’ll cut the rope.” Dick pulled out a small knife and waved it at him. “You won’t be able to open it like this all night.”
The child moved a couple of times toward the iron railing.
“Yes, don’t move.” Dick crouched down, stretched his fingers over the railing, and carefully cut the rope.
"So you're Robin?" the child leaned closer and asked in a low voice.
“No, how could that be? You misunderstood because of this same hook? Actually, I got it through Wayne Enterprises. You know, Wayne Enterprises has everything.” Dick replied enthusiastically. After experiencing Thomas’s intensive teaching on lying (although he was mainly the one who was either tricked or seen through by Thomas), he could confidently assert that there was only one possibility for suddenly throwing out a statement without sufficient evidence: trying to trick him into giving him the real answer.
“Actually, I really admire Robin,” Dick said, borrowing slightly from the excuse Thomas made up for Batman. “In fact, I really admire his gymnastic talent…”
A pair of cold hands landed on Dick's shoulders.
"...and he's also trying to learn his fighting techniques." Dick wasn't intimidated at all. He grabbed the wrist of the hand and was about to give the man who was deliberately trying to scare him an over-the-shoulder throw when he was flicked on the head.
“I wasted my sleep time looking for you guys,” Thomas said irritably. “Besides, you were too slow. If I had a knife in my hand, you would all be dead by now.”
"...So how come you walk so silently, Thomas!" Dick said, annoyed. "When did you get here?"
“I’ve been here the whole time, but none of you noticed me,” Thomas said, pulling Dick with one hand and Jason with the other. “Go to sleep, don’t stay here unless you want Alfred to cut your sweets, just like I did.”
“You seem to be in a hurry?” Dick questioned. “You usually don’t care what time we go to bed.”
"I don't know why, but I feel particularly inclined to get involved in family education today," Thomas said sternly. "Hurry up and go back to your bedroom. Don't come out tonight..."
“Whatever you’re planning to do tonight,” Jason pointed to the side, “it seems too late, unless that dark figure is Batman.”
Thomas Jr., with a sullen face, released their hands.
“Thomas Wayne Jr.” The man stepped out of the shadows. “It’s a pity that our conversation was forced to end for some reason last time, but fortunately we have the opportunity to continue our conversation this time.”
-
“So why did I get kidnapped too! I was just trying out my camera next door,” Tim muttered. “I don’t even know who that old man is.”
“I don’t know who he is either,” Dick whispered to him.
“Me too,” Jason said, “but I can tell he’s not a native of Gotham.”
“So I guess only one of us knows what’s really going on,” Dick said, looking at Thomas.
Thomas, who was being watched closely by three pairs of eyes, was tightly bound and sitting idly in the corner of the cell counting bricks.
"Is there anything you'd like to say to us, Thomas?"
"What can we say? That the old man is a delusional man who wants to become a god and recruit Batman?" Thomas shifted his position. "Or that I could have easily gotten away, and that I was only caught because of you guys?"
Thomas Jr. stood up and freed himself from his chains in just a few seconds.
"You've practiced escape techniques?" Dick asked using lip reading.
“I have an escape artist under my command,” Thomas said, picking up a handcuff and lip-reading him. “And it’s not that difficult. To reach this intermediate level, you only need a little practice. Even Bruce could do it easily.”
Hey! Don't assume that just because Bruce always pretends to be clumsy and spills things, you've raised the average level to such a high level!
Dick pursed his lips in dissatisfaction and quickly freed himself from the chains.
Only two untrained bastards remained, tightly bound.
Thomas gestured for them to be quiet and walked straight to the guard of the small cell.
He walked very quietly, without even the sound of the chains rattling.
The two guards seemed very confident in the chains and handcuffs; they mainly kept an eye on the outside, seemingly on guard against a possible prison break.
Thomas stood quietly behind them, handcuffing one of the guards' hands—the ones he usually used to draw his knife—to an iron bar. Before the other guard could react, he snapped his neck and, as the guard slowly fell, pulled out the knife from his waist and stabbed it directly through the handcuffed guard's heart.
The stench of blood spread, and Thomas calmly turned around, his sapphire-like, dazzling yet indifferent eyes sweeping over the three pale-faced men.
“Let’s go,” he said, drawing his knife as blood gushed from the guard’s body. “Don’t worry, they’ll make sure you live… after all, they’re going to use you to get rid of Bruce.”
-----------------------
Author's note: Yes, everything is under Gugu's control.
So please don't curse me (survival instinct) (just kidding)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
