Chapter 98: Double entendres are so hard to come by.
"So who leaked our meeting address..." the Penguin gritted his teeth, "I'm going to grind it into mincemeat and feed it to the vultures!"
“Actually, you can feed him or her to the vultures without turning them into minced meat,” Thomas asked Batman thoughtfully. “If you feed them human corpses directly, shouldn’t that be called ‘rich’?”
“I’m already starting to miss the quiet you from a few months ago,” Batman said in a breathy voice, masked by the gunshot. “The speakerphone is off now, and whatever you say will only torment me and Robin.”
He threw a remote-controlled batarang in an attempt to scout the situation, but it was immediately shot down.
He activated Detective Mode, but the enemy was currently building back doors layer by layer, and there were also some Penguin henchmen with guns scattered throughout the building, so even Detective Mode couldn't pinpoint his location accurately.
“Actually, I think someone’s real purpose is to torment the two of us,” Robin muttered under his breath, “without a doubt.”
“Obviously, I’m also a victim, Mr. Bruce,” Alfred joined in. “The nearby surveillance cameras have been destroyed. Young Master Thomas will be in charge of operating the reconnaissance drones from the Batcave to the scene to assist in the investigation… Do you remember what those drones were called?”
"What's the name, Bat Drone?" Robin asked softly. "Or, like the name I gave Bat Wings, maybe Bat Mini Wings?"
“Thanks, Penny,” Batman ignored Robin’s question and observed the situation from the window. “When will the drone arrive? The block is under control. I need something to help me/distract their vision… not Robin.”
Batman specifically emphasized that Robin lowered his hand, which had been eager to reach out.
“I’ll try to speed it up,” Thomas replied. “Sooner or later, everyone in Gotham will know your naming habits. Seriously, do you really have to prefix everything with 'bat'?”
“It’s a symbol, and I also have a prop without the ‘bat’ prefix,” Batman urged Thomas, “when can we share vision?”
“Soon, almost,” Thomas replied. “Can you really tell me what you’ve named the drone? I promise I won’t steal your cookie for the next month.”
Although he didn't steal the cookies; Dick ate them with Jason.
“...'Bathound'”.
Just then, a pack of "bat hounds" successfully arrived at the scene.
Using the drone as a shield, Batman dashed out the window at top speed, fired his grappling hook at the building across the street, kicked the window open, and crashed inside.
“Hey, Batman!” Robin yelled. “Aren’t you missing something? Even if Robin, the penguin, and the owl are all birds, I don’t want to be with these two!”
Claw and Owl, who was openly lurking in the communications channel, didn't react much to the remark. Only Penguin was furious, but he held back for the time being for the sake of cooperating with Batman, secretly planning to teach this brat a lesson later.
“Stay there and don’t move, Robin,” Batman calmly instructed him. “Keep an eye on that claw for me.”
Then a... well, a "bat hound" flew into the room, landing in the middle of the room and blocking the Penguin and Robin.
"So you call a drone that has neither bats nor hounds a 'bat hound'?" Robin squatted in the corner, sulking, poking its steel shell with his fingertips, staring intently at the claw. "I don't think it's like a bat or a hound."
“You can’t think like that,” Batman retorted in a low voice as he crawled through the ventilation duct. “We all know that there is no shepherd in the Shepherd’s Pie, no hole in the toad (1) and no toad in the hole, and Richard is not in the recipe for Spotted Dick (2).
“I’m glad you like puns too,” Robin muttered grumbling, “but I’m going to get my revenge, you just wait, Batman.”
"uh-huh."
Batman uttered that meaningful syllable once again. He had found the room that best suited his firepower and where the shooter was most likely to be, based on comprehensive analysis, and quietly opened the ventilation door.
There was a person standing by the window in the room, holding a sniper rifle.
No, Batman noticed the problem immediately.
This isn't a normal sniping stance. Snipers shouldn't be this close to the window; normally, they should stand closer to the center of the room. Snipers need to conceal themselves more than other shooters, unless…
This is bait.
Batman didn't immediately leave through the ventilation duct. He observed the interior of the room again and, sure enough, found a strange thin thread on the "sniper."
He landed gently on the ground and slowly approached the "sniper" until Batman cautiously moved to the side of the "sniper".
This "sniper" is probably one of the Penguin's henchmen who has been drugged, and the one who holds him up and keeps him here is probably the mastermind.
Batman's gaze followed the thin line to the muzzle of the gun, where a bomb was hastily tied to the ground to hold the sniper rifle in place.
If Batman had jumped down immediately to subdue the sniper, he would have detonated the bomb, killing both of them.
Batman carefully used his batarang to cut the ropes securing the "sniper," caught his falling body, and quickly kicked away the bombs and guns that were tied together.
With the sound of shattering glass, the bomb exploded in mid-air.
So where exactly is the attacker?
He searched the other rooms on this floor and found only a few automatic machine guns.
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"An explosion," Robin said anxiously, peering outside. "I wonder how Batman is doing."
“Vascular signs are all normal,” Thomas replied. “Don’t worry, I think Batman is very resilient.”
"That's true, but what if he's discovered by the attackers?"
“There’s even less to worry about. Batman is very good at hiding himself,” Thomas reassured him dismissively. “Give him a little opening and he can slip right in.”
“Okay,” Robin said, somewhat exasperated, “why do you describe Batman as an American cockroach?”
"Why can't you think of me in a better light? This is an unconscious transference of your own personality, emotions, thoughts, or desires onto others, things, or situations. You're the one who thinks Batman is like a cockroach, while I'm saying he's like a cat," Thomas Jr. continued. "Resilient, good at hiding, can infiltrate with just a crack, always out at night and sleeping during the day..."
“Hmm…” Robin frowned, “Do you think I’ll believe that?”
“Okay, I did mean that,” Thomas admitted directly.
“I can really hear you,” Batman interjected. “I’m a human, not a cat or a cockroach.”
“Questionable,” Thomas continued his provocation.
"The gunfire has stopped," the Penguin glanced out the window briefly, "Is it over with Batman?"
"Not yet, Batman..."
An urgent knocking interrupted their conversation.
The three people in the room cautiously picked up their weapons, temporarily setting aside any minor prejudices between birds, and squeezed together against the wall by the door.
Robin tapped the communicator, and Thomas immediately understood, maneuvering the "Bathound" closer to the room door.
"Who?" the penguin shouted.
“It’s me, Mr. Cobblestone,” the voice outside the door answered respectfully but fearfully. “The shooting has stopped. Shall we take this opportunity to leave?”
Claw and Robin looked at the Penguin.
“I remember, that voice was definitely one of my men.” The penguin relaxed slightly and switched the umbrella to his other hand.
"Will you open the door?"
The penguin nodded.
Robin tapped the communicator again, then carefully turned the lock on the door.
Gunshots rang out, and the bat hound fell to the ground.
Batman strode into the room, a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other, dodging Robin's darts.
"Minors, get out of the way," Batman said immediately. "My target is only Penguin."
Considering that Dick had loudly declared at the dinner table that he and Robin were friends, old Thomas chose to let him off the hook.
“No way, you’re not Batman,” Robin stood up, ready to attack at any moment. “Why should I listen to you?”
"...I am Batman."
“Batman doesn’t kill people, much less use a gun to kill,” Robin rushed forward. “You’re a completely unprofessional fake Batman… Don’t you even know this? Are you from out of town?”
"How did you learn this?" Alfred asked in surprise.
"That's just reasonable reasoning!" Robin nimbly dodged Batman's hand chop, braced himself on the ground with both hands, and twisted his body to hook Batman's calf with his leg.
Batman easily dodged his attack, and taking advantage of Robin's absence, aimed his gun at the Penguin.
Robin, of course, couldn't ignore it. He pulled out another Robin's dart from his belt and deflected Batman's wrist.
Batman's face was grim, and for some reason, his expression reminded Robin of someone, someone who was like...
Night Owl!
On the day Thomas was impersonated, when Barbara, Dick, and Jason stopped Nite Owl, he had the same speechless, annoyed, and even slightly angry expression. The two also share a similar chin; the difference is that this "Batman" looks older.
“I know who you are,” Robin lied confidently, trying to glean some useful information. “You are an elder of Night Owl.”
“It does look somewhat similar,” Claw, who was standing to the side, agreed.
Batman frowned in confusion.
Whose elder?
Night owl?
"So that damn owl really is going to kill me?" The Penguin gripped his umbrella, attempting to attack "Batman." "Damn owl..."
He was knocked unconscious by a karate chop from the claw behind him.
"So killing the Penguin was the Supreme Court's order?" Claw pulled out his hidden knife and pointed it at the Penguin lying on the ground.
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The author says: (1) A certain British dish, sausage wrapped in Yorkshire pudding batter and baked, served with onion gravy and vegetables, is said to look like a toad in a hole.
(2) A certain British delicacy is a traditional English pudding made by adding raisins ("spots") to flour, steaming it, and then serving it with cream or sweet sauce. Due to the well-known semantic change of Dick, some people have renamed it Spotted Richard. Actually, I originally wanted to write that Spotted pudding doesn't contain Dick, but that would seem like Cup Noodles making a dirty joke, so I changed it.
The three courses, including the shepherd's pie, are all British dishes (look away). If there were no British cuisine in the world, I would have one less pun I could come up with. I would like to thank British cuisine here.
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I'm so sorry, everyone... Midterms week is going to kill me... I'll send out red envelopes as compensation.
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Looking for single-player games that clearly reflect the personality differences of Cup Noodles (òvó) (I feel like the Dishonored series could also be included in the spin-off game pa (I feel like if this continues, the spin-off games will become a single-player game recommendation conference).
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