Clark has something to say

Jason: "Grass!!!"

Everything happened in an instant, he collected himself and glanced at the clown.

The most terrifying criminal in Gotham, half of his head was smashed, the hardest skull in the human body, split into pieces, fell to the ground, mixed with filth.

... the clown, dead?

He stared blankly at Dick.

Nightwing held the kari stick normally, and a burnt and unpleasant smell gradually overflowed into his nose. Jason looked down and found that Dick hadn't turned off the high voltage on the short stick.

Harry's piercing screams brought him back to his senses.

Harley Quinn rushed over, hugged the corpse, and didn't dislike the shattered head. Grief covered that beautiful face. A few seconds later, she raised her head angrily and rushed towards Dick.

Dick raised his head holding the stick, and said flatly, "——Don't get in the way, Quinn."

Clark grabbed Harry and was staggered. He blinked sluggishly, and panic and bewilderment slowly filled those clear blue eyes.

——The bad premonition came true.

When he was in Wayne Manor, he had already found out that something was wrong with Dick, but he was damnably negligent, because Dick has been the glue of the Bat Family all these years, he is a really reliable big brother, for a long time Yes, even he will pay more attention to other people.

No matter how dull Clark is, he should be aware of the abnormality, not to mention that he is a big man who is so sensitive that he can be called sensitive.

There is some shadow that he doesn't know, covering the person he cares about.

At this moment, he gradually noticed that Harley Quinn's struggle was getting lighter and lighter. He lowered his head, only to realize that at some point, his feet had left the ground a little.

His abilities are back.

Clark let go of Harley Quinn's arm and whispered, "Sorry, ma'am, about my offense."

Using super speed, he lifted Harley Quinn like lightning, and stuffed her into the next cell. After thinking for a while, he welded the cell door shut with his heat vision.

He politely ignored Harry's greeting to him, and flashed back to where he was before.

... Great, nothing happened.

Then he heard the dark knight growl with suppressed emotions: "Nightwing, we don't kill people."

Clark paused, bit the bullet, and stopped in front of Bruce.

"Please, B, please calm down."

When he said this, he himself felt that the blood in his body was flowing faster, his brain was dizzy, and cold sweat oozes from his heart.

He retreated back again, carefully avoiding the clown's body, and stopped Dick behind him. When he opened his mouth, he heard his tone almost pleading: "Dick, what happened?"

His eyes started to turn red with anxiety.

After Dick killed the clown, the evil spirit on his body dissipated little by little. Now that he saw Clark like this, he slowly lowered his eyes and said softly, "Sorry."

Bruce's body moved slightly, but Tim stopped him before he could speak.

The little red bird covered her forehead and sighed, and put her right hand on Bruce's shoulder: "At this time, don't talk."

"—Damn it! What—!"

Clark glanced out of the corner of his eye and found that it was the old director of GCPD, Jim Gordon. His body was still ready to shoot, but his whole body was already frozen.

The policemen in explosion-proof suits were about to turn around the corridor, but the old chief stopped him sharply: "Unless I give orders, everyone should go outside and guard!"

After the irrelevant people cleared up, he put the gun in his belt and hurried to the front: "Damn it, Superman, I hope I won't see you here next time."

While squatting and flipping through the clown's body, he asked, "This is the best news I've ever received in my life. How did he die?"

Dick: "...Jim, it's me."

The old bureau chief was stunned for a long time before he said with a wry smile, "So that's why you called me here."

Dick dropped the stick with a clang.

Then, he folded his fists vainly, and stretched out obediently: "Jim, do what you should do."

Before coming to Arkham, he had called Commissioner Gordon's private number.

—for turning himself in, for Gordon to arrest him.

It's not a day or two since Dick wanted to kill the clown. When Jason died, he almost killed the clown, and when he got the memory of the future, he made up his mind completely.

He's fed up with being taken from this guy who should have gone to hell long ago, and fed up with the Joker torturing his family scarred and riddled with holes.

After he kills the clown, everything in the future is just a nightmare.

Once he makes a decision, no one can stop him.

The old bureau chief took out the handcuffs and opened the keyhole, but he couldn't open them for a long time. After a while, he gave up trying: "Cough... I may have a malfunctioning first handcuffs, why don't you go back first?" , when I turn on the bat lights some other day, you guys will come over again."

Dick rolled his eyes, said nothing, and stretched his head forward again.

The old chief sighed, unscrewed the handcuffs, and tightened Dick's wrists.

Clark was so confused that he didn't know what to do. Intellectually, he knew that Dick's actions were right and he deserved to be judged, but now he wished he could break through Arkham with the big blue bird and hide him in the Fortress of Solitude.

He's almost on the verge of action.

He is very clear that the laws of Gotham have no binding force on the Bat family. The strict rules they set for themselves are actually their own insurance.

Jason suddenly said, "Clark, I beg you one thing."

"—Don't interfere with us, after that, I will give you an explanation from beginning to end."

After finishing speaking, he quickly opened the safety lock: "Stupid bird, I don't think you need to be prosecuted by those rats from the Gotham Prosecutor's Office."

He stared at Bruce uncertainly: "Let him go."

"We are criminals. If we want to say that we broke the law, the dignity of the procuratorate has been trampled. This is not a question of crossing the line—it is a revenge."

"I can watch this blue bird for you, and make sure he never wears a uniform again, and he can go to outer space with the Outlaws."

Clark looked at Bruce too.

There was no expression on the face behind the dark knight's mask, but in those blue eyes, contradictions and struggles were almost gushing out.

Bruce didn't react so violently to the Joker's death as everyone else imagined, on the contrary, he felt empty, with nothing but frustration and disappointment.

Not to Dick, but to himself.

Under the young shell, there is actually a soul that has died once and is full of desolation.

He didn't kill the Joker, so his kids killed the Joker, and the crimes are clearly his—he's Batman, and he's the one pulling the kids into this hopeless cause.

They shouldn't have lived like this.

After a short interval, he finally spoke: "I..."

Tim straightened up and interrupted him bluntly: "No need."

He walked up to Dick, clasped the handcuffs with his first fingers, and forcibly tore it in two. He spoke lightly, but revealed that he could not refuse: "Bruce, Jim, I want Dick to go back."

He threw the broken handcuffs back on Dick, looked around, and sneered, "Wow, are you really going to stage this kind of farce?"

"The year the clown killed Jason, he made himself an ambassador, escaping... the law? Judgment? Whatever rubbish."

Tim said the word in a sneering tone, with a mocking face: "Grayson, I have already said that being a little policeman has no future."

"Gordon arrests you, what do other people get? Have the clown's victim erect a statue for you? Or make you feel better?"

Dick's voice was very low: "I'm not..."

Tim hooked his lips and interrupted him indifferently: "I know, but even if you stand in the trial seat and shout that you are the murderer, I can still ask a lawyer to release you on bail."

"—what's the use of letting Gordon arrest you?"

He chuckled: "I can hire the best legal team for you. I can declare to the outside world that you are insane, so as to obtain your guardianship. Furthermore, I can completely disappear the identity of Dick Grayson..."

Dick stared at Tim blankly.

Jason quietly put down the gun and flinched back.

Tim calmly came to a conclusion: "The outside world will only think it is a dispute over inheritance rights, and over the years, the families associated with Wayne Enterprises will support me."

He turned around and repeated to Bruce, "Now, I'm going to let him go back."

Clark was completely stunned.

What are you doing again!

Tim was acting so seriously that he couldn't tell if the other person was joking, he was a bat cub after all - he was never afraid to guess at them with the craziest maneuvers.

He said in a very low voice, "This, this is not enough to..."

Tim: "Clark, take him home."

Clark looked at Bruce uneasily, waited and waited, he put his head on Dick's shoulder tentatively, and then looked at the Dark Knight again.

Still no movement.

That should be the meaning of acquiescence, he thought.

He grabbed the position under Dick's arm hard, soared into the sky, and halfway through the flight, he still didn't forget to wrap the big blue bird in his arms with the red cloak.

He wanted to ask Dick why he did it, but couldn't.

He didn't want to add any more psychological burden to Dick, so he deliberately rambled: "How about I take you back to my apartment first, and you go back like this, I can't explain it to Ah Fu."

Dick leaned against Clark lazily, humming lightly.

Clark: "I'll make you an apple pie with double the sugar."

Dick: "OK."

He suddenly felt wronged.

It was a completely unreasonable emotion. When he was young, it was always easy to taste grievances, but that was a long time ago.

So much so that until now, he actually felt that this emotion was so strange.

Clark covered the back of his head with his hands and stuffed the big blue bird into his arms. He naturally sensed Dick's emotions, but he couldn't do anything.

This is not the same as before.

In the past, the reasons for Dick’s grievances were easy to find. He was found by Bruce when he wrote essays for the little boy. As a result, the big bat forbade Robin to continue the night patrol with him. After quarreling with Bruce, he ran away from home in a rage and shrank to the park. In the slide hole, I was so wronged that I burst into tears.

But now the little robin was sad again, more than ever.

...Why can't he do anything?