Chapter 1206: Lamb's Cry (27) (Patreon)

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When Bruce opened his eyes again, he saw Gordon's face in front of him, but instead of concern or inquiry, Gordon said urgently, "Bruce, Mayor Roy was assassinated this morning and is severely injured!"

Bruce instantly became alert, but accompanied by his alertness was intense pain and dizziness that made him feel suffocated.

He found himself unable to sit up straight, and Gordon hurriedly helped him sit up, saying, "Who did you fight with last night? You've got three broken ribs, a lung injury, and two missing molars."

Bruce's eyebrows furrowed deeply, and a flash of anger appeared in his eyes, but he didn't respond, instead asking, "How's Roy?"

"It's not good," Gordon said, looking worried. "He's barely alive, but the problem is, many people think it was Falcone's doing, and the situation has become very tense."

Gordon sat down beside Bruce's bed, pouring him a glass of water while saying, "You know, the Falcone Family is a gang family, and Little Falcone needs to take responsibility for the family's interests."

"His authority was never as strong as his father's, so in some matters, he has to be ruthless to establish his own power."

"He and Roy had disagreements on some issues related to the city's development, Roy thinking he was too selfish, only caring about the Falcone and Twelve Families, and unable to fundamentally address Gotham's problems."

"Alberto thought Roy was unrealistic, wanting to copy the success of Imperial City without making localized reforms, which would lead to failure."

"Roy thought Alberto was seeking private gains for the Falcone Family, Alberto thought Roy was doing it for his own political career, and the problem was, neither of them could prove they didn't have ulterior motives."

"Originally, you were in the middle, mediating between them, and they didn't dare offend you, so it wasn't too intense, but recently, you haven't attended several banquets, and they've been at odds on the surface."

"As a result, Roy was stabbed on his way to City Hall this morning, shot four times, but fortunately, the hospital was nearby, and he survived."

"He said he didn't see the assassin, but everyone thinks it was Alberto's doing, to be honest, the Falcone Family has a bad reputation, and everyone knows how the previous mayors died."

Bruce struggled to get out of bed, then suddenly felt a wave of pain, but still managed to stand up, shouting towards the door, "Alfred... Alfred Prepare my clothes, I'm going to Falcone Manor."

Gordon helped Bruce put on his clothes, but Bruce was still struggling to stand, his movements weak and frail. Bruce took a deep breath, looking at Gordon, and said, "Get me some painkillers, don't let Alfred know."

Gordon was about to speak, but Bruce stopped him, then said, "I'm more aware than anyone of the dangers of abusing painkillers, but the situation is special, Gotham's transformation is at a critical stage, and I can't let it all go to waste."

Gordon sighed, helped Bruce sit down, and hesitated for a moment before pulling out a walkie-talkie from his waist.

After a while, a bag appeared outside the window, and Gordon went to retrieve it, taking out several bottles of medicine. Bruce was about to take them, but Gordon stopped him, saying, "I have to remind you, these drugs may affect your intelligence, your precious genius brain can't be harmed by drugs, so you must promise me you won't abuse them."

"Don't worry, I promise, I care more about my brain than anyone."

Gordon hesitated, but eventually handed the medicine to Bruce, not because of Bruce's promise, but because of the pain in his eyes.

After taking the medicine, Bruce felt a bit better, and they were about to leave when Bruce saw Dick at the end of the corridor.

Dick walked up hesitantly, still holding his schoolbag, and said after a long time, "Last night, Tim and Jason persuaded me all night, okay, sorry, Bruce, I know I... "

Suddenly, a police officer in uniform rushed up the stairs, whispering something in Gordon's ear, and Gordon's expression changed. He told Bruce, "Roy's sister has gone to Falcone Manor with a gun, she shot Alberto first, then herself, Mrs. Falcone was shocked and fainted, and was taken to the hospital, where it was discovered she was pregnant, but the situation is not good."

"Alberto is furious, he wants Roy and his sister's lives, the leaders of the Twelve Families are trying to persuade him, but it's not working, we have to go immediately and stop Alberto."

Bruce's expression also changed, knowing that the Falcone Family, as Italian Catholics, valued family highly, and the conflict would escalate to a very dangerous level.

Bruce couldn't afford to wait any longer, he rushed downstairs, opened the police car door, pulled out the driver, and drove away.

Dick stood still, watching Bruce's back, his courage, which had been building up all night, disappeared.

After Bruce mediated all the conflicts and returned to the Manor, exhausted and in pain, Dick had already packed his backpack. Bruce walked up to him and said, "Dick, I'm back, I think we can talk."

"I'm really sorry," Dick said, tears in his eyes. "I didn't know you were injured, I didn't know it was so severe."

The black-haired boy turned his head, put the last book in his backpack, and said, "You should rest, get a good night's sleep, I don't have any problems, or rather, compared to the problems you're facing, mine are small, I can handle them myself."

Bruce looked at him, feeling a bit dazed, and didn't know why, but he felt like something was blocking his chest, even more painful than a broken rib, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Just now, I called the teacher to apologize and promised her that I would do my homework well and asked her to agree to let me go to school as a boarder. Today is Friday, so I won't be back this weekend either."

After saying that, Dick put on his backpack and walked in front of Bruce, staring into his eyes and saying, "We should all work hard not to worry you, so you can rest during your free time."

"Dick, don't be like this, Dick..." Bruce repeatedly called out Dick's name, saying, "We need to have a good talk."

"You should go to the hospital now," Dick said seriously, looking at Bruce's pale face. "I can deal with my own problems, so you should deal with yours too."

After saying that, Dick was about to leave, but Bruce grabbed his arm. Dick turned back, looking a bit helpless, and took out his homework from his backpack, flipping it open to show Bruce. "Look, I did my homework well yesterday, understood all the questions, and even corrected my previous mistakes."

Bruce took a glance at the neat handwriting in the homework, but instead of feeling happy, he felt a surge of anger and resentment, which later turned into shame for his own emotions.

Dick closed his homework and gently touched Bruce's face, saying, "I'm going to school."

As the boy turned around, he walked into the evening sunlight coming through the floor-to-ceiling window, and the string in Bruce's heart finally broke.

"Come back, Dick!"

Bruce no longer felt any pain, stood up, and pulled Dick back, making him frown, clearly in discomfort. But Bruce didn't intend to let go, emphasizing, "I said, come back Dick, what are you doing?!"

"I'm going to school!" Dick emphasized.

"I said I want to have a good talk with you, but you think you have nothing to say to me, and then you get angry and want to run away. Dick Grayson, do you think I'll let you do whatever you want?"

Bruce felt his blood boiling, took big strides to the phone, and dialed while saying, "If you don't want to study, I'll call the teacher to ask for a few days off. You need to develop good study habits at home before going to school."

Dick was stunned, his backpack falling to the ground, looking at Bruce in disbelief. "Do you think I'm lying? Even if I did my homework well, you still don't believe me? Or do you want to call the teacher to confirm if what I said is true?"

In an instant, Dick's eyes turned red, and he gritted his teeth, saying, "If you hate me, just say so If I didn't do my homework well, you'd scold me. Now that I've done it well and want to go to school, you still won't let me. Is it that no matter what I do, it's never right?"

"Last night, you still had nightmares because of psychological trauma, and today you told me you want to go to boarding school. Is this how you take responsibility for your own mental health, Dick Grayson?" Bruce also raised his voice.

"I understand my mental health better than you do!" Dick almost shouted.

But then, he showed an extremely sad expression, standing still and muttering to himself, "You wouldn't treat Tim and Jason like this. I shouldn't have believed them when they said you're inexperienced as a father. I shouldn't have been understanding towards you. You don't appreciate it at all!"

"I just want you to be better!" Bruce said.

Dick took two steps back, shaking his head and saying, "Are you doing well like this now?"

Bruce opened his eyes wide, but Dick wiped away his tears, taking a step back and saying, "You can't even do what you want, so how can you ask me to?"

After saying that, he turned around and ran out the door. The phone in Bruce's hand fell to the ground with a "clang."

Bruce supported himself on the back of the sofa and sat down, feeling an uncontrollable pain exploding from his chest. He had never felt such pain in his life.

Bruce felt like he was having trouble breathing, like a fish about to die, and the suffocation made him dizzy. A unknown fear surrounded him, and he felt like he was going to die.

Bruce had never thought like this before, but this time he felt extremely panicked. He was convinced that he was going to die and was afraid of death.

He almost frantically took out the painkillers from his pocket, trembling as he poured out a handful and put them in his mouth.

A blurry and dreamy light appeared before Bruce's eyes, making him feel like he was back on the rooftop of Wayne Tower, seeing the neon lights of Gotham every night.

And the one who truly saw these neon lights, Thomas, took out his handgun from his waist, loaded four bullets into the magazine with his gloved hand, without any triumphant joy between his eyebrows.

It was astonishing that this old Batman, who had long been tempered by pain, could still squeeze out more pain from his pain.

Like the continuous cold rain in Gotham every night.

Fatherly love and filial piety, haha.

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 1207: Lamb's Cry (28)