[Comprehensive Yingmei] What kind of experience is it like to take online classes in Gotham?

The current situation is that the whole family knew that I fainted from the pain caused by staying up late at night and playing with my mobile phone, which led to a trance, memory loss, and indirectly caused menstrual pain.

My mother, who travels far away in China, also knows.

She called me and informed me directly: My right to play with the mobile phone at night has been cancelled, and I have to hand over the mobile phone before going to bed.

By the way, she asked Alfred to buy me an alarm clock.

How should I put it, it's quite embarrassing (sincere face) for a lot of age to be confiscated by parents before going to bed.

On top of that, my period pains were intense, but didn't last long.

Only on the first day, it hurt for most of the day.

In the next few days, I was alive and well, except that my hands and feet were cold when I slept at night, and I had no other symptoms.

My family doctor gave me new painkillers and some vitamin tablets, and I also had a bottle or two of drips, mainly glucose and painkillers.

Pain free, my period didn't have much of an impact on my day-to-day life — other than being a little grumpy.

The changes in the hormone levels in my body caused by my menstrual period have made my mood fluctuate a lot. The specific manifestations are: I am often irritable for no reason, feel depressed at night, and get angry easily, etc.

But I have experience, this kind of thing basically has to happen every menstrual period, I can digest the emotional changes by myself, unless some people who don't have long eyes provoke me, otherwise I still treat people like a spring breeze.

...no one to mess with my words.

-

I don't know why, I don't seem to get along well with going out.

I was taken to the hospital by my father for a follow-up visit.

The gunshot wound on the arm is almost healed. This time I used to check the specific recovery situation and remove the stitches by the way.

"The wound is recovering well, and there is no repeated tearing like others." The doctor said, "The injury is near the shoulder joint, so it is easy to be repeatedly torn, but you are recovering well."

The doctor marveled at my wound, and it seemed that the other condition he was talking about was the most common in Gotham.

"Okay, it's nothing serious. I'll write you an order to remove the stitches first, and then take a picture after the stitches are removed to make sure the growth of the bones is fine." The doctor wrote on the paper , without raising his head, told him, "You still need to pay attention to your diet. Girls love beauty. After you recover completely, you can contact a regular aesthetic doctor or go to the dermatology department of the hospital for a recovery operation. By then, even the scars will be gone. have."

I nodded and made an expression that I must obey the doctor's orders.

After the thread was removed and the film was shot, more than half an hour passed.

We queued up again to go to the pharmacy to get the medicine, and my dad and I got in the car back.

There are two pieces of gauze on the shoulders, the main purpose is to prevent the scars from being infected with dust or other dirty things. The newly grown skin is tender and looks pink, but there is a little itchiness caused by the wound recovery.

Not a big deal though.

The doctor only prescribed a lotion to smear the wound for disinfection, and I felt that the wound was fine.

"The wound should be almost healed, right?" My dad asked me.

During the follow-up visit, my dad didn't follow me in. He sat on a chair outside the doctor's office and waited for me.

I originally wanted to come by myself, but my mother was not worried that I, who stayed up late two days ago and had a trance and memory loss, went out alone, and asked my dad to accompany me out if he had time.

The friendship between the two of them raising the baby together, plus the fact that I will have an accident when I go out, and there are countless people outside who are watching my life, my dad finally coordinated with me to come out with me for a follow-up visit when we both have free time.

"That's great," I told him.

No matter for me or my dad, this gunshot wound is not a serious one. If it was my dad himself, he would not care at all.

It was mainly because of the location of the wound that it became more serious—it was originally aimed at my heart, but if the bullet had a larger caliber, it might be able to use up my entire hand.

After caring about this sentence, my dad stopped talking, and the car was quiet, and we each played on our mobile phones.

——However, it is unsafe to go out.

I have a lifelong feud with being out in Gotham.

Several modified cars drove up in front, and several trucks approached from behind, and were blocked by two motorcycles on the left and right, and were pincers on the front, rear, left, and right sides.

"What's the situation?" My dad asked the driver aloud.

The driver who was driving silently showed a standard, slightly honest smile. He glanced at me and my dad through the rearview mirror.

"Mr. Wayne, it's nothing." He said, "I just want to invite you to be a guest and talk about a business by the way."

We were surrounded by all kinds of cars outside, and our driver even betrayed—I don’t know if he was dropped by someone or was an undercover agent from the beginning—we were forced to be “invited” to be a guest.

"Is this how you treat guests?" My dad looked around, with a pretended calm expression on his face that fit his outsider setting, and tried to talk to the driver in front of him.

I could see that he was trying to gather information, and I, who was not good at facial expressions, lowered my head, hugged Zhao Chaomumu tightly in my hand, and shrank back.

The stage was given over to my father, and I tried my best to cooperate with him in playing the role of a wealthy daughter who was kidnapped without much force, so as to reduce my sense of existence.

...Fortunately, I chose to take Zhaozhaomumu with me when I went out. Fortunately, I have a clear understanding of my unlucky ghost physique.

If it really doesn’t work, I’ll take out the driver in front of me with a knife and then hit the motorcycle next door to see if I can highlight the encirclement.

The day and night in my hands gave me a great sense of security, plus my dad—although he appears to be an idiot playboy without any force value, but in fact he is a violent vigilante in Gotham .

Logically speaking, we wouldn't be harmed... right?

My dad was scolded by this driver.

The motorcyclist outside the window knocked on the glass window on my dad's side with a gun, and the driver rolled down the window for him.

The gun was pulled in by the biker, and the helmeted biker kidnapper threatened my dad, saying, "Don't talk, shut your mouth, we don't need your shit money."

How come you still treat money like dung?Does anyone really think too much money?

Being pointed at by Rob, my dad raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

The kidnapper glanced at me and my dad with disgusting eyes, as if he was looking at some animal waiting to be slaughtered.

Then he slowly retracted the gun.

"You're smart," he said.

This wave of kidnappers, how should I put it...

Everywhere is weird.

In Gotham, when my father was kidnapped, most of the kidnappers were asking for money, but this kidnapper behaved like money as dung, unlike ordinary kidnappers.

Moreover, the original price of the car blocking our road in front is not cheap, the price is too high, plus some modifications that can be seen from the outside, the sum of the two is already a very high price, let alone those Invisible modification.

It seems that "negotiating a business" in the driver's mouth is more reasonable.

But judging from their attitudes, I always feel that they want to finish the so-called "business" and then silence it.

I pondered the purpose of this group of people, and then felt a reassuring clap from my dad.

The driver was driving, talking on the phone with someone who didn't know, blowing water with foul words, not paying attention to our side.

I looked up at my dad, his eyes were comforting, and there was a kind of pretended calmness on his face, although it was staged, and his expression was very divided.

I squeezed the palm of my hand and handed the things in my hand to my dad calmly.

——It's the eyebrow razor blade I just took out of my bag. It's very sharp. If someone really wants to kill someone, I believe this blade will be more useful in my father's hands than mine.

Then my dad quietly handed me a bat dart, which is relatively small, but with a sharpened blade, it should be more lethal than my eyebrow razor blade.

It doesn't look like the blade I handed me is going to do anything.

I tucked this batarang into my sleeve, close to my body.

Today I am wearing a relatively thick sweater with cuffed sleeves, which is very convenient for hiding things.

I often put my mobile phone in it, it is really convenient to hide things, and it is guaranteed not to shake out.

After my dad gave me the pocket bat dang, he turned his head and looked out the window.

For Batman, he knows every street and every building in Gotham by heart. By observing the buildings along this road, he can quickly know where he is now, and he can transmit information through the communicator in his hand. Back to the Batcave.

Yes, from my angle, looking slightly sideways at my dad, I can see him blind typing quickly.

The family should have heard about our kidnapping, maybe they are already investigating these people, and someone is coming to save the beauty.

Thinking of this, I'm really curious.

Every time my dad was kidnapped and hijacked by someone, he would be rescued by Batman or Nightwing Robin and Batwoman. Why on earth would these people charge up and kidnap my dad again without knowing their life or death?

Are they really not afraid of Thebatmaniswatchingyou?

...Ah, no, maybe, this time the person came after me?

After all, the idiot organization may have slipped through the net. Judging from the last time they cooperated with the Red Hood Gang, they may have already mastered my identity and cooperate with other gangs to kidnap me and my dad, and then How about using my dad to threaten me and make me obediently get caught?

I figured it out, and it was surprisingly possible.

I'm sorry Dad, I may be the one who got you in trouble this time! ! !