71. Gotham: Whose Child
79.
Lincoln March suppressed a smile, but he could not quench his wife's anger.
People who spend too much time at the top of the pyramid often suffer from the same symptom: having been praised for so long by those around them, they come to see such admiration as normal. Among a group of worshippers, even someone standing alone stands out.
Of course, he had no intention of criticizing. After all, Lincoln March had grown up in this very poisonous soil. The rotten parts of this place ultimately became his nourishment. If it weren't for the court, he would never have learned the truth, and for that he should be grateful.
It was impossible for his wife to punish him excessively for such a matter. After all, this strategy had her approval. Lincoln speculated that he probably only needed to show a sincere enough attitude to admit his mistakes, and she would still protect him a little.
Sure enough, after throwing a tantrum, the lady sat back down and took a breath on the expensive recliner. Given her age, he even wondered if she would die of anger today. Then she said quietly, "We don't need people who disrespect the court."
She took a sip of the water handed to her by the waiter and cast a look at Lincoln March, which also served as a warning: "No matter how capable you are, if you don't submit to the court, you will only be treated as a pawn."
Lincoln March pretended not to understand his wife's underlying meaning. He knew his role in the courtroom: a pawn when needed, an outsider observing the action when not. His suggestions would often pass unnoticed by those in power, but he couldn't help but offer them—after all, the people below him were usually the first to be held accountable for mission failures.
So Lincoln pretended to hesitate for a moment and reminded his wife of the possible risks: "But she is very special. Ordinary claws may not be able to achieve the goal."
"Yes," the woman began to wave the fan again. The wrinkles on her hand stretched and gathered with each movement, like another mouth sewn shut. "If even a talent like you can't handle it, then ordinary claws certainly won't do the trick."
"—but the court never has only one method."
At this point, the lady looked at Lincoln March and sighed, seemingly out of admiration for his talent. "'Some are born to enjoy sweet pleasures, while others are born to suffer long nights.'* The court has changed your fate—it has done enough, little Thomas."
"The rest is up to you to earn."
"So, next time you do the mission, pay more attention, okay?"
Lincoln March lowered his blue eyes, as if he already knew his fate: "Not next time, ma'am."
There won't be a next time.
…
Provocation aside, the work still needed to be done. Thinking she might be able to collect some crab pots on her way to Zuzu City, Aria even brought her fishing rod with her, intending to catch some mutant carp in the sewers.
The visibility in the sewers of Zuzu City has become much better than last time, and some broken ladders leading to the exits have also been repaired. Although he doesn't know who did it, the farmer still wants to give a thumbs up to praise the nameless kind-hearted person.
This is how construction and development should be done. If everyone contributes a little, Zuzu City will have a better tomorrow.
Off topic.
Gathering strength, Aria cast her fishing rod beside the crab pot, deliberately throwing the float farther from shore. The float swayed with the current. Although the owls would probably come soon, and the hops and ancient seeds in the ground had not yet sprouted... the farmer immediately felt a sense of peace and tranquility.
I forgot to check the daily fortune on TV when I went out today, but Aria is not obsessed with catching the mutant carp today. She just doesn't want to miss any free time.
Commonly known as can't sit still.
Having caught some white algae, the farmer shook the rod and cast again. Just as the float dipped into the water, a chill crept up her spine without warning, like a needle, a prick of instinct.
There was only a slight change in the air circulation, just like the sound of hair falling to the floor, and the person behind you landing would make no less noise than a leaf.
The sharp blade was placed across her neck.
"You've been up to a lot in Gotham." The voice had been altered, but it still sounded childish to the farmer's ears. "I need an explanation."
Wait, the farmer who was about to put away his fishing rod and fight the Court of Owls was stunned.
My first thought was, "Why does this sound so familiar?" My second thought was, "Does the court actually employ child labor?"
The third thought was that the angle of the knife holder was a little off, probably because the child laborer standing behind her was not tall enough.
He wanted to laugh, but couldn't yet, as laughing could easily hurt a child's self-esteem. Even if he worked for the Court of Owls, the farmer believed it was entirely possible for the child to come to his senses and turn back.
Aria decided to cooperate, after all, her original purpose was to go deep into the enemy camp.
Blatantly letting her win would definitely not work. She had to fight first and then be defeated, which was logical. So the farmer cleared his throat and said quietly:
"To be honest, I feel a little guilty about fighting with kids."
"If you taste my knife, you will swallow back every word you said." The weapon was closer to her flesh, as if a little force could tear her skin apart - the child took this as a provocation, trying to make her suffer.
At this point, it was time to take advantage of the situation and start fighting. The farmer quickly flipped through his inventory. He knew it would be easy to hit him with a light steel sword, so if he couldn't get enough power, he could just use a slingshot to hit him twice...
In the split second that the farmer was thinking, the float in the water suddenly swayed, making a prompt sound that Aria was quite familiar with.
Damian, a student of a Taijutsu master, sensed a flicker of intent in the woman's direction—but the sensation vanished as the float creaked. The woman's inexplicably down-to-earth demeanor returned, even making her appear somewhat languid.
Aria put all her energy into the fishing rod. She didn't even care about the sharp blade on her neck. Fishing seemed to be more important than life at this moment.
The fishing rod was shaking, and from her expression, it seemed that the thing below that had taken the bait was not at all reassuring.
"You haven't answered yet..."
"...Shh." She whispered, gentle but unquestionable. Like some kind of unspoken rule, like one shouldn't touch someone who's cleaning their ears, Damian Wayne strangely lost his rebellious streak.
——Batman also gives his enemies time to leave a last message.
With this thought, he withdrew his weapon, but continued to guard the farmer's only possible exit. As long as he stayed here, he would definitely be able to pry the information he wanted from her today.
Damian had no idea what Aria was fishing for. This was Gotham, and the monthly sewage tests always showed sky-high levels of drugs and sildenafil. This place would only be a breeding ground for criminals like Killer Croc and the Lurker—even they considered the sewers their "workplace," not their "home." It showed how harsh the living conditions were.
However, as the farmer took a step back, a green thing biting the fishing rod broke out from the dark water surface.
This ugly creature had extremely tenacious vitality. Even after leaving the water, it was still flapping its body. Because the distance was very close, Damian Wayne could even see its bright red eyes and its open mouth - which was full of fangs.
He had fought beasts face to face and breathed their pungent scent, but this ugly creature was far from being a monster.
However, as if she didn't want to scare him, Aria quickly stuffed the ugly green fish somewhere, and said with a comforting smile: "It's okay, it doesn't bite, it just mutated..."
"I'm not scared," he said stiffly.
"Yeah, I know." She agreed, but it made people inexplicably angry.
“…”
After catching the mutant carp, Aria now looked at everyone with favor. "So, did the court ask you to come here to invite me for a chat, or to kill me to silence me?"
The boy was wearing a domino mask, his red uniform was like a flame burning in the dark night, and the letter "R" was fluttering on his chest - all these factors combined made it as obvious as a bat light in the dark night.
He even suspected that there was something wrong with his hearing: "Don't you know me?"
This sounded strange, so Aria asked, "So you weren't sent by the court?"
She was so preconceived that she even thought that the court would give child workers a different uniform, just like airlines would give them unaccompanied minor tags when they fly alone, so that the children can be recognized at a glance from a crowd of claws.
Overestimating the conscience of the Court of Owls.
"So," Aria consciously squatted down a bit when talking to the boy because of the height difference between them. For some reason, his expression became even uglier. "Could you please introduce yourself?"
He was Damian Wayne, the name his mother had given him to signify conquest and dominance, son of Al Ghul, Blade of Ra's.
Most importantly, he'll inherit the mantle of Batman.
"Robin," he said, his back straight, his voice confident, as if he were stating an unchangeable fact rather than introducing himself, "Batman's partner."
Although he had never seen him around Batman, they had only met a few times and couldn't say they fully understood each other, so the farmer believed him.
But even if he believed it, there was absolutely no reason to let a child go on such an adventure with him. The farmer coughed softly twice. "Did Batman send you here, or did you want to come on your own?" Judging from the situation, it was most likely the latter.
Robin frowned. "I act to enforce my will." Damian Wayne had had enough of Batman excluding him from every decision. If he hadn't used special means to overhear the circus boy questioning the origins of his father's claws, he would likely have remained in the dark, unaware of the impending crisis facing Gotham.
Ah, it seems she also took on the responsibility of bringing the child back to the ground safely.
"I have reason to question your relationship with the Court of Owls." He frequently goes in and out of the sewers, has close contacts with some villains, mysteriously disappears in Wayne Tower and reappears at the same time with a Claw. Even if he has no cooperation with the Court of Owls, he is at least an insider.
"These are all work requirements," Aria shrugged. She collected the crab pots under the watchful gaze of Robin. "As you can see, I'm just an ordinary farmer making a living in Zuzu City."
Liar, Damian clenched the sword in his hand. The last time he saw her, she claimed to be the mayor's bodyguard.
If the Court of Owls is in the upper echelons, then the newly appointed mayor might also be involved with them... This is truly an unimaginable mistake.
Aria brought up an important argument: "And if there really was a problem, Batman would definitely come to me first."
"Batman also makes mistakes, that's why he needs a partner." Partner and assistant are two words that seem to be the same but have completely different meanings when you look closely. Damian's choice of words is as precise as a knife.
The farmer's attitude has changed from shock at "Batman actually uses child labor" to sympathy at "the children you teach are in their rebellious period". At this moment, I just want to shed a tear of sympathy for him.
But no matter what, she couldn't take the child with her when the court came, so she had to find a way to get him away.
After racking his brains to come up with an excuse, the farmer used the excuse that he had other crab cages to confiscate and walked to another corner under Robin's "surveillance".
I haven't come up with an excuse yet... Can they transfer him under the guise of Batman's orders? But it seems they should have their own internal communication methods.
Damian Wayne felt that the farmer was suspicious and was still stalling for time. As he adjusted his blade and was about to use some of the threats and inducements he learned from his father, the farmer suddenly moved.
"careful!"
The sewer was a confined and turbid space, but the sword she took out from somewhere brought a gust of wind.
The next second, Aria appeared in front of him, and the lightweight steel sword and arm blade collided, making a teeth-grinding sound.
Then she turned around and chopped at the armored man with an even faster move.
The claws paused reluctantly, then bounced back a step - as if hitting an air wall in the game.
More eyes appeared in the darkness, and Damian Wayne fully revealed his samurai sword, wanting to fight them, but the farmer turned around at this moment and smiled at him.
"Now that they've dared to attack me," the farmer said, jumping up and down in his claws, "they'll definitely attack the mayor and other important people who stand in their way."
The farmer dodged the three claw attacks with agile maneuvers. He took advantage of the break in the fight to quickly chug a cup of coffee, his speech speed increasing as he said, "Batman definitely doesn't know about this. You need to inform him not to linger on here. We need someone to communicate..."
After pouring out the long and difficult sentence, the farmer quickly added: "...I can buy time!"
————————
Aria: Whose child? (Socially, just like with Jas and Vincent)
Damian: (furious)
"Some are made for sweet pleasures, others for long nights." This is from William Blake's "Innocent Premonitions," by the same author as "The Tiger" from the previous Batman episode. Interestingly, this poem also includes the line, "The bat flies to and fro at dusk, having left the faithless head; the owl, praying for the night's blessing, bears the fear of the faithless." This perfectly corresponds to the owl and bat, so I've used it here (though you could also just assume the court is practicing corporate culture again).
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