Chapter 102 Gotham! Bruce's wonderful life appeared before Katum's eyes. The scene changed quickly, like watching a boring family movie. The ten years in the dream passed in the blink of an eye. But to Katum it felt like less than twenty minutes had passed. Eighteen-year-old Bruce Wayne, with both parents, embarked on a completely different path. It’s different, but in fact it’s the same. Bruce Wayne still looks like a rich young man, but in his heart, there is no core called Batman. Now his daily routine is to drive luxury cars, drink famous wine, drive luxury cars, date young models, drive luxury cars... Katum was getting tired of it. The entire Gotham has almost become Bruce Wayne's playground.
He drove on the road every day and looked at the poor people outside, as if they were from two different worlds. Gotham City is still the same, with a high crime rate. Bruce doesn't understand why these people are committing robbery, smuggling, murder and arson. Wouldn't it be nice to enjoy life like him? Katum felt that this might be Bruce's life. Growing up under the protection of his parents, he is just the son of Wayne Group, not the son of Gotham. …… prick-- Early in the morning, brake sounds sounded in front of Wayne Manor. Bruce opened the car door and threw the keys to Alfred. "Help me park in the garage, Alfu." Alfred took the key and did as he was told, without complaint. He was not afraid of Bruce's extravagant life, but he was afraid that Bruce would suddenly want to prove himself. Then there will be many more headaches than now. "Mom, I'm back!" Bruce's voice echoed in Wayne Manor. He threw his coat to the maid and went upstairs. After returning to the room, he fell directly on the bed, feeling exhausted and with a slight pain in his lower back, and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, it was already dusk. Bruce was the only one in the huge room. The dim sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains and poured into the room, forming a sharp contrast with the silence inside. Bruce suddenly felt overwhelmed by endless loneliness. He lay in bed with his eyes open, unwilling to get up.
What can you do when you get up? It is still the same mechanical repetitive enjoyment and endless emptiness. My waist still hurts. His eyes fell on a stack of newspapers at the bedside, which was arranged by his father Thomas, hoping that Bruce would pay attention to current affairs, but Bruce had never read it. This time, he took the newspaper as if possessed, opened it and started reading. The news above, about the recent appearance of several fancy vigilantes in Gotham City, caught his attention. Bruce read several pieces of news as if they were stories with great interest. Watch and comment at the same time. "How silly!" He saw a report about a vigilante who was chasing a criminal but couldn't distinguish him because the criminal blended into the crowd. Bruce immediately thought of a solution. "Just arrest all the people present and interrogate them, and we'll know." In addition, there were news reports about vigilantes who used too much force and severely injured criminals, and had to pay huge medical bills. "Another fool." Bruce said, "If you cover your face and don't reveal your true identity, who can find you?" He even saw records of vigilantes being openly laughed at by criminals because their uniforms were too funny. "Black! You have to use black!" Looking at the ridiculous red and green uniform, Bruce has completely defined it as performance art. "You have to shock people and make them unforgettable, not just make them laugh!" He cursed as he read, and finally threw the newspaper to the ground. Are these really a group of vigilantes rather than a bunch of circus clowns? How can what you do be so ridiculous? If it were me - At this moment, Bruce was suddenly stunned. What if he was the vigilante? How could I have such a ridiculous idea! However, even though he refused to admit it, the idea of becoming a vigilante took root in Bruce's heart like a seed. Maybe one day, this seed will bloom. …… The change that Katum was waiting for appeared on this ordinary evening. In the end, Bruce chose the path of becoming a vigilante and a superhero.
He began walking at night to fight some visible evil. After several successes, he became somewhat famous. This gave Bruce more motivation to continue to stick to his career. Mr. and Mrs. Wayne suddenly discovered that their son, who only knew how to enjoy himself and squander money, had changed. He began to exercise, strictly discipline himself, and take the initiative to learn new knowledge. At the beginning, Bruce was dressed in black and masked, and at first glance he looked like a robber who was going to kidnap someone. Later he realized that this was not right and chose to design a new uniform for himself. As for the reference element for the uniform, Bruce chose an owl. He believed that it was because he saw an owl that night when he was eight years old that he and his parents were able to walk out of the alley safely. Katum had also been watching him silently. Bruce lived up to his trust and chose to embark on the path of a hero even without any external push. Because Bruce is ultimately just and kind. "It's about time to wake Bruce up, otherwise--" Owl said to himself, "Something bad is going to happen!" …… Bruce Wayne, the neighborhood owlman, slowly discovered something was wrong while fighting criminals for many years. The evil in Gotham seems endless, forever growing and never disappearing. The harder he tried, the more he sunk himself into a quagmire. And the danger was approaching him step by step. Bruce began to get scared. He suddenly realized that as he fought crime more and more, he had more and more enemies. These put him under endless pressure. "don't want!!!" Bruce sat up suddenly in bed, covered in cold sweat. He had a nightmare. He dreamed that his parents were brutally murdered because his identity was exposed! Bruce barely thought as he immediately jumped out of bed and opened the closet compartment. He pulled out the black hero uniform from inside and tore it madly, tearing it into pieces. "I still have a great life and people I love, I can't lose all of this!" He panted and said to himself word by word, "I don't want to be a hero anymore! I just want to be Bruce Wayne! This bullshit Gotham has nothing to do with me!" Just after he said this, Bruce suddenly felt something strange.
It was like the whole world stopped for a second, and then time started flowing again. Along with time comes what Bruce fears most - A fire suddenly ignited in the manor outside the window, and a few demonstrative gunshots announced their arrival. Bruce quickly walked to the windowsill and looked down. A group of thugs in black had broken into the manor. Alfred was lying at their feet, bleeding profusely. "Do not!!!" Bruce screamed in pain. However, this was just the beginning. This group of people broke into the manor obviously not just to kill Alfred. Dad...Mom... Bruce suddenly realized the crux of the matter and quickly ran out of the room, trying to stop it as much as possible. But it was too late. Blood, two pools of bright red blood, spread out in the hall of the manor. Thomas and Martha had fallen to the ground, and a dark figure stood over their bodies, with his back to Bruce. "Do not!!!!" Bruce's eyes were red and he had completely lost his mind. He pounced on the black figure, desperate to avenge his parents. But the other party just waved his hand and knocked Bruce away. He stood up again and again, but failed again and again, until he could no longer stand up. "Damn it! Damn it!" Bruce was helpless and furious, "Body, I order you to stand up and avenge your parents!!!" There was anger and pain in his voice, and... a hint of pleading. But he really couldn't stand up. A rich young man who has been pampered for eighteen years cannot become a truly strong man even if he trains for a period of time. "Is it painful?" The man suddenly spoke. At this moment, Bruce's heart trembled. Why did this voice sound so familiar? The man slowly walked out of the shadows and revealed his face. Bruce was completely stunned. That black figure looked exactly like him! "I was in the same pain as you."
The 'Bruce' looked at him with cold eyes. "But this pain eventually became my source of motivation." The other party said coldly, "Bruce, you shouldn't say that Gotham has nothing to do with you!" Bruce's pupils contracted instantly. Didn't he just say this? How could this person know this? Puff puff—— With the sound of flapping wings, Katum landed next to Bruce. "Alas, I am still late." There was a sense of guilt in his eyes as he looked at Bruce, "I'm sorry, I made you see this scene again." "Katum?" Suddenly, Bruce recognized the owl. Real memories instantly flooded into his brain, and he became the twelve-year-old Bruce again. At this moment, the entire Wayne Manor disappeared, including the bodies of Thomas and Martha. Only Bruce and Owl were left. "Who is he?" Bruce was still in shock. Although he knew that everything that happened just now was just a dream, it was still so painful to see his parents die in front of him again. "He is you." Katum said, "Or rather, your subconscious mind." Bruce didn't quite understand. The owl could only further explain: “Bruce, you may still not understand yourself very well, and you don’t know how important Gotham is to you. “In your dreams, you can have both parents, live a life of luxury, and even not be a hero, but you cannot give up your hometown. "This dream gave you too many illusions, causing you to feel lost and even choose to give up Gotham for the sake of your own life. "Then at this time, your subconscious mind will come out to correct you." Katoom looked into Bruce's eyes with a hint of sadness in them, as if he had seen the future of his godson. "You would rather strangle yourself, who could have been happy, and return to Gotham. "Bruce, look into your heart. "What does Gotham mean to you?" Bruce stood up again, his strength returning as he realized it was a dream.
He placed his hands on his chest and tears flowed unconsciously. What does Gotham mean to Bruce? "Nothing." He said, "Everything." I found seven or eight translations of nothing, everything, but I was not satisfied with any of them, so I just posted the original text. (End of this chapter)