Reincarnated as Gotham's beauty trash

I found that the history of the establishment of this family can be divided by Dick, Jason and Tim's time as Robin.

Batman, who works alone, can live without Robin for more than half a year.

And that's without counting Batwoman, Batgirl, Showstopper, and Orphans.

I discovered the fact that I was old when Tim officially became Robin.

It started when I was combing my hair and found a white hair in my limp blond hair.

I was so shocked that I asked the company for leave overnight, and went back to the bed to try to dye it with the return sleep.

One hand lifted my quilt.

I seriously accused, "Since I didn't bother you when you stayed in bed, you shouldn't disturb my sweet dreams when I lie back in bed."

"You really don't bother me," Bruce nodded, "you usually sleep with me."

He sat by the window, "You remember the charity dinner a few days ago."

I secretly shrank a little deeper into the quilt.

"When I was on stage to speak, there were at least three young people under the age of 25 toasting with you. You should realize that age does not affect your beauty."

I don't guess that he saw through my inner reasoning process, I reached out and snatched the last bit of quilt from him, "But you don't look old, so the argument is useless."

He grabbed the quilt without changing his face, "I'm a bit old, Lucy."

He suddenly smiled, "Dick told me a few days ago that I have fine lines around my eyes, and every time I find white hair, I will secretly pull it out. Only if you look at me, you will think that I will always be that young man."

Many years have passed since we got married.

Dick moved to Haven as an adult, torn between being a police officer and odd jobs.

Jason went solo under the code name "Red Hood", beating bad guys all over the world while interning at Matt's law firm.

Kashan has learned ballet and has the will to go to Hong Kong for activities.

The kids are all grown up, but I don't have the feeling that Bruce is getting older, he still seems to be the same as the first time I saw him.

I held his chin, looked left and right, "I still don't feel much difference."

"You haven't changed either." He kept his chin raised by me, "There are still cuts from your acting on the Internet."

"To appreciate my acting skills?"

"It doesn't look like it."

You are very sad, you know that?

Perhaps there is another reason why I have no real sense of the passing years. Up to now, Wayne Enterprises has still not found a suitable successor, and Bruce and I need to shirk each other when we go to the company meeting.

None of the three children in the family had any ambition to do business.The best successor I've ever met with a kid is Tim, unfortunately Drake Enterprises is not bankrupt, he has a family business to inherit.

The best he could do was hold meetings for Jack and Janet before Bruce crushed their company.But the Drakes love his usual hard work, and generally don't bother him with company matters.

I have been imagining my retirement life for more than ten years. After retiring from the position of president of the Charity Federation, I was recruited by Bruce to work for him in the company not long after.

The life of lying under the sun umbrella, drinking sparkling water and blowing the sea breeze is getting farther and farther away from me. I began to consider working with Bruce to find a candidate to take over the company.

If Bruce was going to take Drake's business out of business and make Tim work for him, I could pretend I didn't know.

Thinking about this matter every day, I couldn't help but look at the subordinates around me with the eyes of picking vegetables in the vegetable market.Bruce was able to dig Lucius back then, but I couldn't find fresh leeks for no reason.

Maybe it's because my attention is too focused on this matter, I always feel that there is an inexplicable but unignorable gaze behind me.

It was as if someone was watching my life from the shadows. This kind of horror can be compared with being stared at by a American cockroach in my heart.

This feeling of appearing and disappearing is getting stronger and stronger, but every time I have a suspicious attack, I look back or check the monitoring and find no problem.

I asked Barbara to help me investigate, but got nothing.But this feeling is too realistic, as if there is really a person lying on the ceiling and watching my every move.

This feeling was not really resolved until Kassan and I went shopping.

Kashan is not like ordinary girls who like to go shopping. She prefers the feeling of being with her relatives and friends than picking the products she likes.

I sometimes ask her to go out together to choose clothes. Bruce's clothes are usually handmade by Italian craftsmen, but I personally prefer to talk and laugh with people about the selection process.

We drank tea outside the fitting room of the clothing store and listened to the shopping guide introduce the popular styles of this year.

That feeling came back, and I could even mentally picture the person staring at me saying "tsk", expressing disdain for my taste.

Cassan, who was sitting next to me, frowned slightly, and I noticed her movement, "You felt it too?"

"Someone is watching us." She remained calm, silently changing the angle of the water glass on the table, and looking at the outside world through the blurred shadow it reflected.

Nothing was found.

Kashan nodded cautiously at the shopping guide, "Where is the bathroom?"

I knew that she was the one who went out to look for that line of sight. If Kashan also found this person, it would prove that the American cockroach really existed, and it was not my imagination.

I waited for a while, but Kashan didn't come back, so I greeted the shopping guide and went out by feeling.

Almost as soon as I stepped out the door, my full attention was on a man sitting on a corner bench.

It wasn't the American cockroach, it was a little boy.

His age should be no more than ten years old, and his legs barely stepped on the ground while sitting on the bench.

His sitting posture is very regular, not as lazy as other boys of the same age, giving people a tense state, as if he will jump up and stab you at any time.

An inexplicable premonition told me that he was the owner of that line of sight.

The distance between us was so far that I couldn't see the boy's face clearly. I could only tell from his skin color that he was darker than the people around him, one degree darker than Dick, who was of Roma blood.

I wanted to see his face clearly and took a few steps in his direction.

There was a change in the expression on the boy's face, and his body language showed impatience and resistance.

He stood up, and a car passed right between us, and when that car passed, I couldn't find him again.

I looked around, and Cass came up behind me, "I can't find anyone."

"I see him," I turned to Kassan, "it's a kid."

As a family member of a superhero, I have experienced many outrageous things, and the killers I have encountered can be counted by count.

Maybe that little boy is the killer sent by someone to assassinate me, and now he is just here to monitor the situation of the target.

Thinking of this, I couldn't help laughing myself, even if the other party really wanted me, he wouldn't use such a young killer.Not everyone is Cassandra.

I said to Kashan, "He probably didn't come here with the intention of killing me. Now that I see his appearance, it will be easy for Barbara to investigate."

It turned out that I underestimated the little boy's business ability, and Barbara's investigation was fruitless.

The boy is obviously a person with action experience, and his action trajectory deftly avoids the camera. Even if the image left is only a back view with a face that cannot be seen clearly.

Just when I was about to tell Bruce about it, I saw this boy beside Bruce.

It was just a normal night, Bruce was out running, and Alfred and I were at home waiting for orders.

I just went upstairs and came down with a bucket of popcorn, and the vibe in the Batcave got weird.

Speaking of the atmosphere, it’s actually just me and Alfred. We often use the camera on Bruce’s hood to watch Batman’s urban parkour live broadcast in the middle of the night.

I just popped a bucket of popcorn in the microwave and cleaned up the battlefield by the way. Ah Fu turned off the live broadcast and looked at me with a complicated face, as if he couldn't think of what to say.

He finally sighed, "I think, this matter should be explained to you by Master Bruce himself, and I will not interfere."

He added something that made me realize the seriousness of the problem, "If you need to borrow my arsenal, I can share the code with you, as long as you don't use the deepest weapons..."

After a few minutes of bewilderment and anxiety, the Batmobile drove into the Batcave, and the door opened, and Bruce, who was clearly restrained at a glance, got out.

The door on the other side was also opened, and the sound of feet landing could not be heard at all.The owner of the footsteps seemed to want to show his own sense of existence, and deliberately stepped on the sound of the coming footsteps very firmly and heavily.

In my bewilderment, the little boy met me again.

This time I could clearly see his facial features, and I could see clearly that he was just a trumpet Bruce except for his skin color and eye color.

No, there are still differences in some details.For example, his eye shape is more angular, and the brow bone is lowered, so he looks quite imposing at a young age.

But these are unimportant matters.

In an instant, all the gossip experience I had accumulated in my life was renamed and surnamed at this moment, and the protagonist posted my name.

I even thought of the script of aliens. Maybe this is a Martian who just came to Earth. Because the photo of Bruce on the newspaper headline is very good-looking, so he turned into Bruce. As for the difference in skin color and details, it is purely this little Martian. people's own aesthetics.

So before Bruce could speak, I asked calmly, "Is this a Martian?"

The boy scoffed.

I rarely see Bruce in a bat suit be at a loss, that chin tells me he's thinking carefully about his words.

I calmly said, "Himalayan or Sahara, which one do you choose?"

Before he refused, I denied myself, "I have been to these two places too much, and there is a fixed route map in the Batplane."

I snapped my fingers in front of him, and opened the portal under the boy's wide-eyed stare, "Goodbye, I wish you and... this little friend good night."

I stepped into the portal angrily, and said coldly to Dick who was hanging upside down in front of the window kissing a girl I didn't know, "Bruce has a baby, not mine."

Half a second later, there was a loud noise from the alley downstairs.

Oh sorry, hope the girl isn't intimidated.