Chaoying Psychotherapist [Zhongyingmei]

The old butler pushed the reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, shrugged his shoulders as if he saw nothing, and said to Bruce: "I just want to tell you, sir. All the communication devices in the Batcave rang together, and It's been a long time. Still, it looks like I'll have to wait a little longer, even though you've shut yourself up in your bedroom for a full hour since watching TV this morning, without even having breakfast."

He glanced at Cynthia indiscriminately, and then showed an amiable smile: "I'm very sorry to disturb your good business. Please continue, goodbye."

After speaking, he bowed gracefully, exited the room, and closed the door intimately.

Bruce: "..."

Cynthia: "..."

Cynthia managed to regain some sense: "...What? What happened to the equipment in your Batcave?"

Bruce didn't continue the topic just now, but just shook his head: "I don't know, I'll go and have a look."

Then, he glanced at her: "but I suggest you go with me."

Cynthia: "?"

Cynthia: "Why?"

"Because more than 80.00% of this matter is related to you." Bruce said.

Bat cave.

This was Cynthia's first visit to the Batcave.

She watched as Bruce played three unknown notes on the piano, and then the bookshelf on the side opened with a "swish", revealing a straight up and down working elevator.

Shocked to the point where she completely forgot that she could walk through walls, Cynthia silently followed Bruce to the elevator and came to Batman's underground base in Wayne Manor.

It is said that this place was originally a natural cave, which lived in a large group of dark bats. Bruce even fell down once when he was a child.

Now, it has become a cave... a collection of high-tech weaponry, high-tech vehicles for sea, land and air combat, bat armor, and high-intelligence and high-capacity computers.

Of course, there are still a lot of bats.

The arrival of the two caused a few bats to fly away in panic.

Cynthia looked up at them, then turned back and pointed to Bruce: "So, this is your colleague?"

Bruce glanced at her silently.

"Same kind, let me correct you." Cynthia curled her lips.

The elevator reached the bottom and made a dull landing sound.

Bruce stepped out first.

Cynthia also took a step, and then found a layer of wet groundwater attached to the ground formed by natural rocks.

"Oh." She said thankfully, "I'm glad I'm not wearing real shoes."

Going around a few gloomy stalactites, the eyes are suddenly empty.

A platform the size of a football field looms large. On it, there are Batmobiles, Batcomputers, Batplanes, warehouses... It seems as if the time has been fast forwarded 100 years, making it dizzying.

This turned out to be the whole picture of the Batcave.The scale was so large that Cynthia couldn't help wondering: Was the entire Wayne Manor underground hollowed out?

"God..." she said with wide eyes, "This reminds me of the Phantom of the Opera..."

Bruce raised his eyebrows: "The Phantom's underground palace is not as big as this."

Cynthia: "..."

Cynthia: "That's right. He is not as good-looking as you. He is not as rich as you. Go be proud."

As soon as the voice fell, before Bruce could say something to counterattack, the computer on the platform suddenly beeped, and the old telephone ringing sounded.

The bat tablet on the table also started to ring.

Then came the Batmobile, Batplane, Batmoto...

The two looked at each other and stepped onto the platform.

Bruce didn't seem very nervous, he just grabbed the tablet, swiped it, and connected the phone.

The super-decibel rock music rang suddenly, which was extremely ear-piercing, especially in the underground cave with first-class echo, which made people stare.

Cynthia covered her ears unbearably.

Bruce was so calm that he didn't even change his expression. He swiped on the screen again, and the music stopped abruptly.

A familiar voice came from the other end: "Hey, old bat. Has your taste improved a bit? Why did it take so long to answer the phone? Oh, I forgot, your schedule is the opposite of that of humans."

Cynthia: "..."

It was you, Tony Stark.

Bruce uttered a throat cancer voice to the tablet: "Your purpose."

Tony over there yelled exaggeratedly: "What?! Is your throat still not healed?? Don't hold on, I can recommend some doctors to you, buddy."

Cynthia pinched her eyebrows.

Bruce repeated without emotion: "Your purpose."

"My purpose?" Tony was extremely annoyed, "You stole my man, now come to ask me my purpose?"

Bruce frowned for a moment, and turned to look at Cynthia.

Cynthia was suddenly interested in the structure of the cave roof.

"She's not yours," Bruce said grimly.

Tony was blunt: "Of course she is. She's our league psychiatrist, old Bat."

"That doesn't mean she's yours."

"Of course she... God, why do you old-fashioned people like to dwell on this kind of problem?" Tony complained, "Can you just send her back to me, please? I don't like talking to you."

Before Bruce hung up the phone decisively, Cynthia hurriedly said: "Wait——! Tony!"

"Oh, it's you." Tony's mood was obviously clear, "Finally, my ears don't have to suffer anymore."

"How do you know I'm here?" Cynthia wondered.

Tony: "Of course it's because we have a good understanding."

Bruce on the sidelines: "'Talk of mind?'"

Cynthia: "Tony."

Tony: "It's not because I put a tracker on you anyway, you know, dark guys do that kind of thing."

Bruce: "'These old-fashioned people'? 'These people'?"

Cynthia: "...please, Tony."

She didn't dare to look at Bruce's expression at all, and changed the subject abruptly: "Uh, so, what do you want from me?"

"What do I need from you?"

Tony was full of complaints: "God, sweetheart, how did you ask this sentence? After you announced the news of your resurrection, reporters all over the United States were chasing us, and you were lying in my sports car After becoming a vegetable?"

Cynthia: "Oh, my God."

Her eyes widened, and she said annoyedly, "I totally forgot! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Tony. I'll be right back."

"Yeah yeah--"

Tony draws out: "Well, I have to tell you something. Although we are no longer in the sports car - don't thank me, you know Stark can do anything - but a lady just ran to Stark Ke Building, blocked the door and insisted on seeing you, your make-up was all in tears—tell me honestly, do you have an ex-girlfriend or something?"

Cynthia: "?"

"What?" she asked, confused. "A lady? What's her name?"

"I don't know, I forgot. You know I can't remember names that don't matter?"

Tony answered naturally.

"However, it seems to be a singer... what's his name... Lana? Reina?"

Lana Ray.Cynthia was a young singer whom Cynthia was very close to in her previous life, and she was once suppressed by capital.After getting help from Cynthia, she became a world-renowned Grammy singer.

She was very dependent on Cynthia, and after Cynthia passed away, she composed a song for her - "Never Let Go".

When Cynthia arrived in a hurry, she was about to faint from crying.

"How could you just leave like that?" Lana said, grabbing her hand, "How could you just... in front of the whole world, let me watch, I..."

"I know, I'm sorry," Cynthia said. "I'm sorry, Lana."

Outside the building next door, countless reporters held their cameras and pointed at them and clicked the shutter repeatedly.

Because this is the Avengers Building, Lana, as an irrelevant person, cannot enter. They can only talk in the lobby.

The brown-haired, cold-skinned female singer choked for a while, her red eyes from crying glanced out the door, and slowly exhaled.

She collected her emotions silently, stood up, and took Cynthia's hand: "Let's not stand here anymore."

Cynthia said quickly: “I can take you in.”

"No, Cynthia." Lana shook her head, "I can't bother you anymore, I have to go."

She looked at Cynthia, her dark brown eyes were calm and rational, and she was no longer like the little girl crying on the corner of the street.

"One more thing I have to remind you. The impact of your resurrection is not only positive, those protests that were originally held in your name, people's mourning for you, affection for you... in a flash It's all meaningless.

"It's dangerous, Cynthia. Someone will hate you," she warned gravely.

Cynthia sighed.

"I understand," she said.

The fermentation of public opinion is always rapid.

On the Internet, in the media, in the news... Regarding the matter of Cynthia's resurrection, various opinions emerge in an endless stream, some are positive, some are negative, and some are vague.

Some people say that she is wasting social resources and consuming people's sympathy and sensibility.

Some people also said: When she died, everyone felt sad, but now it is confirmed that she is still alive, shouldn't she be happy?

Many more are watching.

They want to know how the year of protests in Gotham and the marches calling for the restoration of the death penalty will end.

In the past few days, Cynthia has been hiding in the Avengers Building, looking at various messages on her phone, feeling increasingly irritable.

She wasn't ready yet, whether it was for these public opinions, or for her new identity, or for the so-called 'new beginning'.

After arguing with Bruce last time, she found that no matter how new the body is, as long as the soul is still old, it is impossible to have a 'new start'.

Putting down her phone in confusion, she dressed neatly and decided to go to the bar to escape reality for a while.

New York, next to the Avengers Building, in a secret bar.

Dim lights intertwined with charming jazz music, Cynthia sat in a hidden corner, wearing a hat and sunglasses, sipping a fruity cocktail from a straw.

Perhaps because of the environment, she felt that she was finally no longer under people's eyes, so she breathed a sigh of relief and removed the magnetic field of her vague appearance.

To be honest, she has never liked to use her so-called "superpower".

She has always been somewhat resistant to her new identity.

She's human, and she should always be.

But for the treatment and counseling of superheroes, this ability must be used.

So, she can't show it.

Wu Ni in his mind was unusually silent.

The mist of dry ice on the bar fluttered and blurred before Cynthia's eyes, forming colorful clouds.

Blinking her eyes, which had been slightly blurred by alcohol, and focusing again, she saw a tall black man walking towards her.

Cynthia narrowed her eyes.

When he got closer, he realized that this man had a handsome appearance and a suave smile.

He stopped at Cynthia's table, smiled at her, and offered her a margarita.

"Hi, ma'am," he said, "my name is Derek Morgan."