Chapter 97 The Great Prophet's Prophecy Comes True ( )
Thomas Wayne Jr.'s lies didn't last long; he chose a dead end for himself long ago.
He knew this better than anyone else: the moment the lie was exposed, everything associated with this identity would vanish.
In fact, the creation of this quantum bomb relied entirely on the resources available to Thomas Wayne Jr., a fact that Batman will discover sooner or later.
Unfortunately, most of the power and resources that Thomas Wayne Jr. could mobilize were in the open, making them easy to block or freeze, putting him in a passive position.
If Isaiah Thomas wants to maintain his dominance and hold onto the power to decide when to stop everything, then he has only one option…
Make Thomas Wayne the mastermind in everyone's eyes, divert everyone's attention from Night Owl, and let him "die" with all the blame.
It cannot be a simple disappearance, but an undeniable and indisputable death.
-
Gotham was still in chaos tonight, and Alfred dragged the yawning Thomas into the Batcave.
"Do I really have to work at night too?" Thomas asked, sounding exhausted. He had spent the entire day under Alfred's "supervision" handling all his assigned tasks without asking for help. "I'm so tired."
No one else can help. Just yesterday, Thomas temporarily trapped Kelvin, the only one who could potentially ruin his plans, in another multiverse where time flows very slowly.
Night Owl planned to wait until the plan was completed before bringing him back, in order to avoid losing a valuable subordinate.
Alfred pointed to a medical bed in the bat cave, which was covered with several blankets: "I'm sorry, but if you're tired, you can sleep here first."
“Never mind, business comes first,” Thomas sat down at the makeshift workbench and began flipping through the materials Bruce had brought in under various pretexts. “Thank Batman for me. I’ve never met anyone more considerate than him.”
“I can hear what you’re saying,” Batman’s voice came from the Batcomputer. “The communicator is still on.”
“My God, that’s terrifying,” Thomas yawned again. His sleep time these past two days had been comparable to Bruce’s. “Alfred, I’ll double your salary, can you help me disconnect this terrifying giant bat?”
“I’m sorry, young Master Thomas,” Alfred replied perfunctorily, “I would very much like to hang up as you suggested, but it seems that some evil force has me stuck here.”
“You can give me the money!” Robin raised his hand from inside the Batmobile. “I can help.”
"Robin?"
“Don’t talk, Batman. Let’s scam some money out of him together,” Robin said in a low voice, deliberately. “Alfred’s salary is very high. Once I’ve made some money, we’ll split it with you.”
Batman cooperated by remaining silent.
"Are you short of money lately?" Little Thomas started drawing blueprints as if he were doing it right, and every now and then he would pretend to be in a dilemma, pausing to think for a while.
Honestly, he's studied the structure diagram of the quantum starter countless times; he's almost memorized it.
“Not at all,” Robin replied, “but it depends on who you’re comparing yourself to. Compared to you, most people in the world are short of money.”
"Well, I have some good news. I can actually predict the future. I dare say you will receive a huge sum of money this year."
For example, my inheritance or something.
“I understand,” Robin said thoughtfully. “So, the Christmas present you’re giving me is a large sum of money?”
“No, of course not, how could I possibly give such a thoughtless gift,” Thomas retorted. “What I mean is that you have the luck to receive a windfall this year.”
"So, according to your logic, should I buy a lottery ticket?"
"Can."
"What if I don't win?"
“I can give you the bonus,” Thomas, Batman, Robin, and Alfred said in unison.
“I knew you’d say that,” Robin said with a hint of smugness. “Now I can foresee the future too.”
Alfred applauded enthusiastically.
"Thank you for your support, Alfred, thank you!"
If it weren't for the seatbelt, Robin might even have bowed to the communicator.
“Alright, Robin,” Batman interrupted Robin and Alfred’s interaction, “we’re approaching the Penguin’s new base. Stay hidden.”
“Okay,” Robin put his hand to his mouth, making a zipping motion, but immediately opened his mouth again. “Penguin? Aren’t we supposed to be looking for Night Owl? I remember you said you were going to have a face-to-face meeting with the Court of Owls? Could that be Night Owl’s men…”
He has a few too many questions.
“Some of the claws of the Court of Owls suddenly asked to meet with me,” Batman explained, frowning, “about the quantum bomb.”
"So they've finally decided to rebel against the Night Owl?"
“Not necessarily. It’s different from Thomas Wayne Jr.’s relationship with most of Wayne Enterprises’ employees (“A deliberately deliberate thud”) (“Good heavens, I guess this pen is too heavy. Should I get you a new one?”). Night Owl has an extremely strong control over the claws,” Batman tried to ignore the background noise. “Obviously, even if Night Owl really wanted to destroy the world, it’s unlikely that the claws would tell us his plans.”
“What else can they say?” Robin thought hard. “Could it be that Night Owl hasn’t given up on getting you into the Court of Owls? Are they that short of people? First you, then me, will Alfred be next? Jason might be too, but it can’t be Thomas…”
“I don’t think so. Based on the intelligence we have,” Batman could even guess what the claws would say. “They will definitely say that the mastermind behind everything is Thomas Wayne Jr., that he is the one who wants to destroy the world. There is no other possibility.”
-
"Are you really going to stand on the wrong side, Batman?" The leader of the claws slammed his fist on the table angrily. "Thomas Wayne Jr., that madman, he wants to destroy the world!"
Robin, hidden under the table, gently kicked Batman's shin with his foot.
It's really not surprising.
"Stop, stop!" The Penguin warily raised his black umbrella. "You promised to communicate peacefully and tell me about the quantum bomb before I let you in. Batman is still here. You'd better not make any rash moves!"
If the Penguin hadn't been completely clueless about the bomb, he wouldn't have risked his life to get close to this group of masked lunatics (here he was obviously making sweeping generalizations, including the basic Batman, the other Batman with a gun, the elusive and terrifying owl, and the colorful, gigantic, laughing underage guy next to the basic Batman).
“I will not let anyone suspected of plotting to destroy the world go unpunished, including Thomas Jr., of course,” Batman calmly replied to Claw, “but he is less of a suspect than Nite Owl.”
"What? Just because he's Bruce Wayne's brother, and Bruce Wayne has a close relationship with you?" Claw's tone was laced with sarcasm, it seemed he had been reading a lot of Gotham tabloids during his vacation.
...
What are all these things?
“This has nothing to do with Bruce Wayne,” Batman said calmly. “First, there is no evidence that Thomas Wayne Jr. was involved with the bomb; second, he requested to be monitored by me to prove his innocence, so at this point, Nite Owl is more suspicious than him.”
In fact, it was Thomas the Tank Engine who claimed that Nite Owl wanted to destroy the world, while Nite Owl was the one who accused Thomas Wayne of wanting to destroy the world... Although both of them were very confident, neither of them had any conclusive evidence. Batman even suspected that they were weakening each other's power by smearing their opponents.
“Did you hear that?” Robin crossed his arms. “As a former Claw temporary worker at the Court of Owls… a good friend (Robin added this word under Batman’s sharp and cold gaze), I think Nite Owl can at least confront Thomas Wayne Jr. face to face. If you need it, I’ll help you contact Wayne Manor.”
“Night Owl is missing,” Claw took a deep breath. “And one of Claw’s leaders, they’ve all vanished, disappeared without a trace.”
“What’s the big deal? Don’t tell me you’re worried about Owl getting kidnapped,” the Penguin said rather sarcastically. “Or are you worried that the two of them have forgotten that Gotham’s owls should live in the sewers?”
Claw ignored him and looked at Batman instead.
"So you want me to find Night Owl?"
So what is this? A bird orphan (1)?
“No,” Claw shook his head. “Before Night Owl left, he only ordered us to reveal Thomas Wayne Jr.’s true identity to you, by whatever means necessary.”
“I’m truly honored,” Thomas Jr. said into the communicator. “Are you the only one who can hear me, Batman?”
Robin tapped the tiny device near his ear.
Obviously, I can too.
"Okay, could you give me a speakerphone?" Thomas's voice was a little cold. "I have something to say to them. I don't think that's an unreasonable request."
"Robin."
Batman's receiver is inside his helmet, so he obviously can't play it out loud.
“Okay, for the sake of my temporary worker friend Dick,” Robin muttered, “don’t forget to give him some extra pocket money.”
“No problem,” Thomas Jr. readily agreed. “I can give him as much as he wants.”
Giving hundreds of millions in one go is no problem, anyway, after Thomas Wayne Jr.'s "death," the Night Owl doesn't plan to take a single penny of this money with him.
"So, do you have anything to say?" Batman asked, his face tense. "Or is there any information you need to give us?"
“Of course,” Thomas Jr. said arrogantly, “'Haven’t you realized how dangerous your situation is?'”
“Poor thing, so heartbroken…”
Robin quickly covered the signal receiver tightly.
“Get to the point, stop with the nonsense,” Batman said sternly. “Otherwise, you know what the consequences will be.”
Robin slowly moved his hand away, and the signal receiver made no sound.
“Little Thomas? Why isn’t it making any sound?” Robin picked up the little thing and shook it. “Did I break it?”
“No, you don’t. It’s not that easy to break,” Batman said, holding his breath. “Thomas Wayne Jr. means he has nothing to say except nonsense.”
“Of course not,” Thomas’s voice rang out again. “I just wanted to remind you that someone is going to attack this building, so please be on guard.”
"You are not suitable for this job."
Before they could finish speaking, a gunshot rang out, hitting the glass of the room they were in.
Batman grabbed the cape, shielding Robin from the flying shards of glass.
The gunshot seemed to be a signal; the explosions and gunfire completely ignited the chaos of the night.
"Why didn't you say so earlier!" Robin reached for the communicator, then reluctantly put it back in her ear. "It's such an important thing."
"I was just repeating what others were shouting outside; that's not what I wanted to say."
"You did it on purpose, you did it." Batman lowered his cape and used his batarang to deflect a flying projectile.
...
“That’s right, you guessed it,” Thomas Jr. showed no remorse whatsoever and admitted it directly this time, “I did it on purpose, and I’m going to continue to take revenge on you on purpose.”
"Who were the attackers this time?"
“Identity unknown,” Thomas replied. “Alfred is trying to find the information, although I think it would be better for me to do it.”
"Never mind then," Batman thought.
For some reason, Batman had a strange premonition that Thomas Jr. absolutely could not be allowed to access the important information about the Batcave, or the consequences would be unimaginable.
-
One cannot always rely on one's own experience to do things, otherwise one day a big mistake will be made.
Batman, or rather, old Thomas Wayne, thought this as he sighed.
In fact, Gotham's current chaos is largely related to him.
The plan to "cleanse Gotham" was devised by the three of them. It was mainly executed by Thomas the Elder, Martha was responsible for some covert operations, and Thomas the Younger, at the strong insistence of the two, was only responsible for technical and intelligence work.
On the first night of "cleansing Gotham," Thomas Jr. (Tommy is clearly more tech-savvy than his father) repaired and modified all of his equipment, but he eventually picked up his own preferred weapon.
Those two guns.
Old Thomas, however, had no idea that this seemingly calm and peaceful Gotham (at least compared to Gotham in his timeline) would react so strongly to the gunshots.
According to the plan they discussed, old Thomas should have only needed to intimidate the Penguin, who was the most observant and adept at maximizing his own interests among Gotham's supervillains.
With just a little hint, the Penguin would understand what to do; both Thomas the Elder and Thomas the Younger thought so, at least on the surface.
This was based on experience, but on that day, experience completely lost its effectiveness.
The penguin here has nothing to do with his friend who was willing to run the Wayne family's business.
The people at the Court of Owls were completely abnormal. Normally, they would run faster than sprinters upon hearing a gunshot, but they didn't react at all that entire night.
The combination of these two factors led the situation to spiral completely out of control.
This goes against their original goal.
Old Thomas couldn't stand by and watch things continue to deteriorate, so he decided to stop the further deterioration of Gotham's security...
“Darling, it’s not that I have a problem with you,” Martha seemed much more normal lately, more like the elegant lady she used to be. She gently took his hand and said to old Thomas earnestly, “I personally think you don’t have the talent to manage the security, although that’s actually a weakness we both share.”
One Batman managed to throw Gotham into chaos, while the other was simply the Joker, whose main "job" for years was to lead the sabotage of Gotham's order.
“No, I don’t actually need to manage them,” old Thomas said, grasping his hand in return and looking into Martha’s eyes. “Just killing them all is enough.”
“Good idea, darling.” Martha tried to offer a gentler smile, but her lips still curled up uncontrollably. “But while your talent for saving lives is quite good, your skill at killing is only so-so.”
She looked up and met old Thomas's gaze.
"You deal with your old friends, and I'll take care of those clueless thugs, how about that?"
-----------------------
Author's Note: Watching horror game gameplay gave me some new inspiration.
See, reporters in horror games are always unlucky; they encounter all sorts of incidents...
And our hardworking and brave young reporters from the metropolis...
To be honest, my skin tone is quite suited to Western horror games; many of them aren't really supernatural, it's mostly about fighting skills (not really).
Puff pastry happens to be the most irresistible.
Okay, actually I was just feeling frustrated watching Escape Live and wanted to see Crispy beat up the Giant Mountain Mental Hospital.
-
Today, we've incorporated an annual herbaceous plant.
I feel like I'm going to freeze to death from a heavy snowfall QAQ
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