The Death Knell

But people are different. Although Bruce is young, he is familiar with all kinds of detective literature, and he was not confused even when his mind was lost.

He just shook his head, stretched out his hand to ask for cigarettes and alcohol, and said at the same time:

"You are not. If you were a good friend of theirs, you would not have left my parents' bodies still lying in a pool of blood. You should at least turn them over and check them."

With that said, he broke free from Deathstroke's grasp, walked towards his parents, turned Martha over with difficulty, held his mother's head in his arms, and touched the blood on her face.

After a short moment of silence, he turned over Thomas' body again, moved his parents to a slightly cleaner wall, and let them lean against it.

"As expected of Master Wayne, he is very smart for his young age. Let's put it this way, the lady beside me and I are enthusiastic people passing by. We came to see the dead people here to watch the fun. By the way, we also called the police for you."

"Thank you, I will wait for the police here, but can you contact Alfred for me? He is my butler." Bruce raised his head and sat against the wall between the bodies of his parents, just looking up He looked at the bat under the lamp.

"Alice, go make a call." Su Ming threw a few steel coins to Lori, and then walked towards Bruce: "Do you want to be a detective? I can teach you. By the way, your parents were not killed in a robbery accident. "

The boy under the light turned his head instantly, with shock in his eyes, staring at the man's face: "How do you know?"

"Evidence and clues, and then reasoning, kid." Su Ming raised his finger at him, motioning for the boy to follow him. He walked to a dark place in the alley and pointed to his feet: "Look here, what do you see?"

Standing up again, Bruce looked at the bodies of his parents, their hands still held together. Facing the blood sprayed on the ground, he vowed to find the real murderer for them.

Those fiery thoughts gave him strength, and he thought that he might never cry again in this life, because as long as he knew the truth of everything, logic would make everything understandable.

And things that are understandable will make people calm down automatically.

He took shaky steps and followed the strange man. He didn't even know his name, or even whether the face was real or fake, but he felt that he was not a bad person.

Looking along the place pointed by the man, the darkness made all traces inconspicuous. Bruce's subconscious action was to squint his eyes, as if it could gather light.

But the man in a black trench coat took out a flashlight and let him illuminate himself.

The corners of his mouth curved down unnaturally, and he didn't take out his flashlight. Really

The place where the death knell pointed was a bulge in the wall, which was the chimney of the house next to it. If someone was hiding behind these bricks, and in a dark place, people walking in from the alley would not notice it at all, but because of the light of the street lights. Because of this, people hiding here can see the faces of those who come.

There were seven trampled cigarette butts on the ground, as well as half a box of matches.

There are some black marks on the wall, left by the murderer who bent his legs and kicked his feet on the wall many times after stamping out his cigarette butts.

Whoever that person was, he had been waiting here for so long that he was impatient.

At this time, Bruce had a strong feeling that the man next to him was right. This was not a failed robbery, but a deliberate ambush.

"Should I tell the police this?" Bruce took a deep breath. In the cold night, he felt his back was soaked with sweat.

"Except for a little policeman named Gordon, all the police in Gotham are unreliable." Deathstroke picked up the matchbox from the ground and put it gently in Bruce's hand: "Give them the evidence, then this case It can never be broken, you know what I mean, as the heir to the Wayne family."

The young man nodded silently. Of course he understood that although he was still a teenager, the aristocratic education he received from a wealthy family was enough to give him a mature mind.

He looked down at the matchbox. On it was a word like 'Ma Long' that seemed to be a name, and some indecipherable handwriting, which seemed to be 'If you want to make a fortune, call 555-2323.' The numbers after that were blurred. It's not clear anymore, only the stains left by rubbing the gloves.

The criminal was wearing gloves and was prepared, which further supports the theory of premeditated murder.

"Then what should I do? Can you give me some advice?" He put away the matchbox with Malone written on it, put it carefully in his breast pocket, and looked up at the man beside him.

"First of all, as a detective, you must maintain the good habit of smoking, drinking, and perming your hair." Su Ming raised a finger and instilled traditional dark thoughts into Bruce: "Secondly, you have two ways to go now. One is It is to make yourself super dark and bring fear to others, and the other is to become super rich, so rich that nothing human can do is difficult for you.”

When Bruce gets darker, he gets stronger, and the darker, the stronger.

And money can make people go around and offer big rewards, and even the money can shock the whole country and make the Justice Society of America tempted. Those heroes of the older generation will also come to help.

But the little boy just nodded silently and returned to his parents. He had already made up his mind.

Only a child makes a choice, he wants them all!

At the other end of the timeline, the old Batman walked out of the toilet. He seemed to have washed his face with water, at least he seemed much calmer.

But Bobo keenly smelled the smell of smoke in the air, which was a different brand from the Wilson cigarettes that Deathstroke usually smoked, and in the dim room, the light from the display made the smoke wafting out of the bathroom particularly noticeable.

"You smoke?" Bobo looked in disbelief.

As we all know, Batman can be said to be a representative of self-restraint. He stays away from any addictive substances. He can even refuse Catwoman's advances as long as he wears Batman uniform. He is so determined.

The old man glanced at the orangutan inexplicably, then lay back on the sofa: "You are also a detective, don't you know that detectives must smoke, drink and perm their hair? This is what that person taught me sixty years ago."

After saying that, Bruce's eyes flashed with nostalgia, and he took out a bottle of wine from behind the sofa. He took a big sip and wiped his mouth slowly. It turned out that he was an old drunkard.

And he actually permed his head after entering the bathroom just now! That white hair is all curled up!

Bobo and Barry looked at each other, and Xiao Shen nodded silently. This was the change after the timeline was modified, it was obvious.

Deathstroke should have succeeded. He even left a hint to himself and others by changing Batman.

However, Barbara, who was chatting with Wonder Woman, was a little confused. She asked Diana from another world:

"You are from a parallel world. Doesn't your Batman smoke? I remember my father told me that every time he lit up the bat lantern on the roof of the police station, Batman would always quickly emerge from the darkness with a cigarette in his mouth. When they are free, the two of them will also talk about the choice of tobacco and the taste of lighters."

The corner of Xiao Dai's mouth twitched, and she smiled awkwardly. The area around her nose wrinkled cutely. She really didn't know how to answer.