96. Christmas Eve (Part 2): Snow Falls All Over Gotham (Edited)
This is the daily routine of all members in the later period, please read with caution
9.
If we were to choose the group most passionate about the festival, Gotham villains would definitely be on the list.
Criminals are particularly afraid of being forgotten, so this group of people is particularly active during festivals - those detained in Arkham try every means to escape from prison and cause trouble, and those who are on the run also use new and strange tricks to cause trouble.
The Penguin happily returns to Arkham after attempting to liberate all the turkeys on Thanksgiving. Mr. Freeze, who held a group of children hostage last Christmas, was thwarted in his attempt to build a pure white crystal ball world and was subsequently sent to prison by Batman. On Easter Sunday, Robin and Batman battled the Mad Hatter and kicked him into his own cell.
In short, whether for the GCPD or the vigilantes, the holidays are a euphemism for troubled times.
…is also a time for family reunion.
Nightwing had long passed the awkward stage of his solo career, and after the Bludhaven Police Department began its Christmas break, he quickly returned to his happy hometown with his few belongings.
It felt great to put on the uniform and jump between familiar buildings again. Of course, Richard Grayson knew that he missed not only this, but more importantly, the good times of patrolling at night with Bruce and eating junk food outside without telling Alfred.
But the youngest in the family was clearly overly possessive of the night patrol schedule. Damian looked him up and down like a king inspecting his soldiers, and negatively criticized Nightwing's recent training results: "You've gained weight, Grayson."
Hey, that's not what the girls want to hear. He's still damn popular in Blüdhaven. Jim and Juan even hit version 2.0. A co-worker at the police station, known for his deadpan jokes, created a story specifically for him, swearing that his butts should have more appropriate names—like Damn and Crazy. That way, when Officer Grayson wakes up and sees each other, he can solemnly introduce them by saying, "Damn, this is crazy"—and use it to describe his own handsomeness from head to toe, killing two birds with one stone.
Did you smile? If you did, remember to keep smiling.
If you didn't laugh... well, congratulations, you've at least earned the achievement of "being funnier than Nightwing." But try not to keep a straight face in front of people who tell bad jokes. Given the situation in Gotham, there's a chance a villain called the Bad Joke Man will pop up later.
For various reasons, Richard Grayson took on daytime patrol duties on Christmas Eve. Wearing a lightweight jacket and multi-pocket tactical pants, his outfit was somewhere between a trendsetter and a teenager whose parents had suddenly called him in to take out the trash. With a hat pulled low to provide some extra coverage, he could blend in with the crowd.
The patrol points include crowded large supermarkets as well as deserted alleys, but no matter where he goes, there is always a pair of eyes following him.
Nightwing was familiar with all kinds of looks, but this was definitely not the kind that passersby get when they see a handsome guy. He turned up the collar of his jacket and slightly sped up his retreat from the bustling crowd. When the other party's target was himself, leaving the crowd was the best protection for the citizens.
Grayson chose a familiar alleyway with ample cover, allowing him to attack or defend. After confirming that no one was around, he slowed his pace, his hands in his pockets the entire time. He looked relaxed, but in reality, he was on the edge of the Mosuo weapon.
If the other party comes to kill him, the next moment of accelerating is the opportunity for this person to strike - even a seasoned killer will inevitably face inner torment when the opportunity is fleeting.
Richard Grayson pretended to panic because he realized someone was following him, and ran at a speed that almost shook off his own shadow.
He counted the seconds as he ran. Not long ago, there had been a nest of pigeons in the alley, but now it was strangely quiet, like the calm before a storm...
Sudden--
As predicted, a cold red sniper dot appeared at his next action point - right between his eyebrows.
10.
This beautiful sniping technique almost immediately reminded him of the deadly shot. The red dot was unavoidable, and the quickest solution before him was to turn around and injure other parts of his body instead of the fatal position. Nightwing reacted a few milliseconds after the red dot appeared, but he didn't pull the trigger for the deadly shot.
Deadshot doesn't take pleasure in fooling and killing his targets—unless the owner pays him more; he doesn't waste a single bullet—unless the owner pays him more; his mission completion rate is among the best among all mercenaries—unless the owner defaults on the final payment.
A man like him wouldn't give up on a mission without doing anything. Richard Grayson glanced at the rusty stairs beside him and planned to sneak up to investigate. Deadshot actually appeared with his sniper box.
People who have made great achievements in sniping usually have an almost pathological pursuit of the length of their steps. Deathstroke walked towards Nightwing with precise and steady steps, but surprisingly, he did not have any murderous intent, only a faint calmness of just getting off work.
"I thought you had a falling out with Bruce Wayne after you became a police officer in Blüdhaven, and were deprived of your inheritance rights to the Wayne Enterprises." Deadshot said this without any context, as if he was sure that Richard Grayson would understand.
"Now it seems that he cares about you."
"Thanks, of course he knew that." But why was it so strange coming from a criminal? Nightwing tried to maintain his ordinary persona as Richard Grayson—an ordinary person wouldn't be able to react to this scene. He was brainstorming something to say when Deadshot took two steps to the side, revealing the creature behind him.
A handsome show-grade beagle, it looks like a good hunter and fits the stereotypical Bruce aesthetic perfectly - no wonder Deadshot thought it was his dog.
Seeing Nightwing's gaze fall on him, Bigger puffed out his chest in a very human way, as if to say - I know you want to praise me.
Deadshot glanced at it, unable to tell whether he was happy or angry. "Besides, the Wayne family does have a smart dog. It knows when to stand up and protect its owner, and it also knows where to spend money best."
Wait a moment.
He knows every word here, so why can't he understand when they are put together?
Deadshot, who received double the reward, was as calm as an old turtle basking in the sun. He explained the whole story without Nightwing asking any more questions.
"I've been asked by an unnamed employer to kill you..." Deadshot had just said that when Beagle, who was standing next to him, grabbed the human's hind legs with his claws. Deadshot immediately quoted a price: "100,000."
Sniper killers are like waiters in a restaurant who demand tips. Their service attitude depends entirely on the tip ratio: "For a hundred thousand dollars, I know my mortal enemy. I won't suffer any loss or be cheated. It's worth it."
Bigger shook his head and yelled seven times in a remarkably resonant voice. Deadshot made a small concession: "Then we'll both take a step back and spend 80,000 for a name."
...The dog paid the ransom, the dog bargained with Deadshot, how could he have such a dream.
Maybe the cereal you ate five days ago was actually expired long ago, but it's only now starting to become toxic.
Compared to Nightwing, whose perspective was somewhat shaken, the transaction on their side was quite smooth. The $80,000 arrived exactly as it was, and Deadshot's eyes softened as he looked at Nightwing.
He named an organization, not Nightwing's mortal enemy, but Dick Drayson's. A small-time Blüdhaven police officer, striving to uphold justice in his own little corner, had offended a transnational criminal organization. As a deterrent, the group paid a large sum of money to hire Deadshot, determined to kill him with the same determination they wouldn't give a damn about even Bruce Wayne's son.
"A lot of people are saying that you've been secretly disinherited..." Especially Vicki Weir's news report, which was written with a perfect combination of detail and history and theory, as if it was heard under the Wayne family's bed.
Dick: "Stop, you can skip this part."
Nightwing pointed at Bigger: "So it paid for everything for me?"
Deadshot nodded. Who paid was never a question that needed to be debated. "Leave me your contact information. I'll let you know when someone dies."
Dick: "Wait, who died?"
Deadshot was a little surprised for a moment, but he quickly suppressed the emotion: "Of course it was the person who wanted to kill you. Your dog paid for it."
...This Christmas Eve was so exciting.
10.
Deadshot took the money and left happily, while Nightwing and Biggle stared at each other in wide eyes.
Most dogs find it difficult to understand the true meaning of human words. They mostly judge the emotions of the interlocutor by the tone of voice. Although this shouldn't be the case when facing the overly intelligent Beagle in front of him, Richard Grayson still pinched his throat and spoke.
Just to gain trust, Nightwing thought, this was a necessary step.
Dick: "Whose puppy is this~"
Xiaobi moved his ears, and Nightwing continued to suck on them persistently.
Dick: "Whose puppy is smart and brave?"
The tail slapped the ground more and more frequently. Grayson knew that his tactics were starting to work. He touched the ground with one knee and fully demonstrated his unique charm attack against dogs.
"Want to play with me?" The weapons in the bag swung, clanging loudly enough to excite a hound. "We can play catch, or maybe you want to try throwing a stick?"
Nightwing smiled and invited: "Come on?"
…
Bigger howled and played with Grayson for several times, even trying to grind his teeth on his jacket. Grayson, feeling both amused and helpless, rescued his clothes from Bigger's mouth. Feeling that he had established a good relationship with him, he then asked, "So who sent you?"
No one!
Xiaobi yelled "werwer" twice, his voice resounding through the sky: "I only follow my own will! Xiaobi is the king of this world, born to rule over mankind!"
"So you are Titus's friend?" Forgive him for not understanding what he was saying, Nightwing had already tried his best to guess.
Beagle's paw landed on his hand, leaving a faint mark—well, no.
Nightwing: "You look like you know me, right?"
Nod.
Nightwing: "Have you always been a dog?"
Than shook his head.
Nightwing suddenly thought of a possibility, and his smile froze: "...Are you Damian in disguise?"
The possibility of Damian turning into a dog is small but definitely not zero, especially considering the devilish character of hounds like Beagle and Robin's size. Hiss, Grayson almost convinced himself.
He became more cautious. "If you are Damian, shout once. If not, shout twice."
Grayson's response was Bigger's angry cry.
“Werwerwerwer!”
It took a few steps back, arched its back, and gathered strength, then took advantage of Grayson's half-crouch to attack him, trying to make this annoying guy fall flat on his face. However, Grayson had excellent balance and only swayed for a moment before stabilizing his body. Because he didn't realize Bigger's killing intention, Nightwing didn't even draw his weapon.
"Wow, you're quite strong," he said, with a particularly good temper. "So you..."
Bi was angry and speechless towards Nightwing. After the sneak attack, Bi ran away.
Grayson looked down at his pants. Ordinary puppies living in Gotham would be more or less covered in dust, but this Beagle didn't even leave dirty footprints. This was contrary to common sense and unusual, and it reminded him of someone who also transcended common sense.
Could it be such a coincidence?
11.
Angry at Nightwing, Bee launched a campaign of revenge at Arkham Asylum.
The farmer used a teleportation totem to sneak into the cafeteria, threw purple underpants into the scarecrow's soup, and put red mushrooms into the clown's meal.
Sap, pufferfish, void eggs. A good chef always knows how to properly utilize toxic ingredients for optimal results.
The farmer's goal is simple: to keep Gotham safe and sound over the Christmas holidays.
However, Batman always keeps things under control, and after Aria puts all the ingredients needed to give Arkham's number one villain a good vacation, she bumps into darkness around the corner.
Batman looked down at the famous restless dog that was staggered by the impact of his equipment: "..."
Xiaobi remembered someone teaching him online that if you are caught doing something bad, you can try to look up and smile at the other person. You don’t have to say anything, just smile - in this extremely embarrassing moment, the other person might look away first.
Aria twitched her ears and gave Batman a very Biggs-esque grin.
Batman: "..."
Although I don’t believe that the other party will be moved by a smile, things have come to this point, so I might as well do what I can.
"Batman," the Arkham staff member's voice came through the communicator, uncertain: "Is there something wrong with you? ... Or did our people make a mistake?"
"No, I haven't." Batman's low and hoarse voice immediately cut off all possibilities for the other party to ask further questions. Aria's vision was spinning, and all four feet were directly off the ground. When she could see again, she was already firmly fixed by Batman's arms like a seat belt.
He covered Bigger with his cloak, and now everything turned black, as if night had fallen early.
What a cramped space! I feel like I could squeeze a dog in!
“…”
Under the cloak, those deep eyes were like the night itself, and Batman's deep voice was like an ice cube falling into boiling water, suppressing all of Bigger's restlessness.
"It's almost time."
Even if she turned into Bigger, Aria wouldn't want to be late for Alfred.
12.
Except for Nightwing, almost everyone quickly accepted the fact that Aria turned into a dog - after all, this is Gotham, a place where anything can happen.
Alfred is the best among them, having experienced countless storms. Not to mention welcoming Aria who turned into a beagle, even if the entire family turned into dogs, the omnipotent butler could use all his skills to raise them all with sleek and shiny fur. Each dog could also have a special dog bowl with its own logo.
He prepared a table and scarf for the farmer's dog, and even the plate in front of her was printed with bone shapes, which looked like a lot of thought had been put into it.
Ariawerwer thanked the attentive old man.
Bruce Wayne, who had changed his clothes, exuded the sociable aura of the Prince of Gotham at the dinner table without restraint. Although everyone knew about each other's interpersonal interactions over the past year, he still asked about everyone's life.
The main course was served, and as was customary at banquets, Bruce raised his glass, but he did not stand up as he would at a dinner party.
His voice was low and gentle as his eyes scanned every face at the table—his family, the people who had left a deep mark on his life.
Aria was right, love was too difficult for people like them to express, but Wayne could choose to express it in other ways.
"This past year... well, we've been through a lot."
He paused, a rare tenderness flashing in his eyes. "But I know that in every crisis, every challenge... whether in battle or on a quiet night like tonight, you are always there."
“No matter how complicated this family is, it’s what keeps me going.”
Bruce Wayne smiled sincerely: "Merry Christmas."
13.
After dinner, Oracle pulled Cassandra and Stephanie aside to remotely test the base's security system. Batman had prepared her own "hole" for Cassandra, and the three planned to use the holiday break to fully upgrade it. Jason and Tim went to the battle room, where Nightwing, smiling, offered to be their referee. Someone tried to refuse, but judging by the outcome, it seemed their refusal was ineffective.
As for Aria, it was the first time for Little Beagle to celebrate the holiday at Wayne's house, and she found it difficult to choose her after-dinner activities. She simply activated Little Beagle to take all the cards. Then she ran to find Kassan and the others. Kassan could use her left and right hands to fight the evil Beagle in addition to testing the system. Her two hands quickly left afterimages, making it impossible for the dog to target her. Then she was picked up by Stephanie and sat on her lap. The blonde girl tied up Little Beagle's ears with a hair tie, and Aria felt her vision instantly refreshed - but her scalp was a little tight. Fortunately, she was just a puppy now and didn't have to worry about hair loss.
"That's a bit too much exercise," Damian said earnestly, watching Aria scurrying up and down the stairs before heading out on patrol with his father. "If you need it, I can put together a Beagle-specific training plan. I guarantee you'll be transformed in a week."
Damian's standards distorted quite synchronously after she turned into a dog. "Your tribe is known as the Forest Bells. I think there is a lot of room for improvement in your voice..."
Aria groaned sadly. She didn't expect Damian would even touch an innocent dog like her. Where is justice!
Fortunately, reinforcements arrived in time.
"Damian," Batman said, "It's time to go on night patrol."
This would be the first and last night patrol of Christmas Eve. Tonight, Gotham was truly like Batman had said: no villains were causing trouble, no natural disasters or man-made calamities. The entire city was filled with peace and tranquility, spending a blissful holiday amidst the songs of Holy Night.
…
"Master Wayne," Alfred lowered his voice and said to Bruce Wayne who came up from the Batcave, "Miss Aria is asleep."
Bruce Wayne followed Alfred's gaze: the fireplace was hung with a Christmas wreath decorated by the butler for the occasion, and cypress leaves and firewood were burning slowly inside, emitting a warm plant aroma.
Under the Christmas tree is a pile of gifts that the farmer has given, and the next day these gifts will be opened by their owners.
Everyone intentionally left this quiet place, with no other sound except for the occasional crackling sound from the stove. In such silence, Bigger and Titus fell asleep on the sofa closest to the fireplace.
The body of a large dog is the softest pillow. Aria leaned against Titus with her belly facing up and her limbs naturally relaxed, completely falling into a sweet dream.
Picking up the plush blanket that had fallen to the ground, Bruce gently covered her with a force that would not disturb her sleep.
Sitting on the sofa, he picked up a book - it should be the one Jason left here before. With nothing to do, Bruce Wayne opened the book and scanned a few lines to know which book it was.
——"Dubliners".
It's snowing all over Gotham.*
Snow fell on the brand new facade of Arkham Asylum, on the spire of Gotham Cathedral, on the most inconspicuous corner of Crime Alley, and on the tombstones with names engraved on them. On Christmas in Gotham, snow fell even on everyone, living and dead.
————————
*What the villains in Little Gotham did
**From the short story collection Dubliners, a very famous snowfall, which the author poorly quoted and imitated
In fact, I feel that the most suitable comic to read around Christmas is "Little Gotham", a real family-friendly comic. I bought it at the original price a long time ago... Now it seems to only cost more than ten yuan. In short, interested little angels can find it and take a look.
By the way, today is also the farmers’ Winter Star Feast, so happy holidays!
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