Chapter 252: Batman: So That’s The Relationship Between Him And Superman!
In the dim Batcave.
The air seemed to have solidified into substance.
Various precision electronic devices were interfered with by Ian’s uncontrolled Speed Force field.
Computer screens flickered erratically, circuit boards sparked tiny electric fires with “crackling” wails, and the air was filled with the smell of burnt circuits and a heavy oppressive feeling that was almost suffocating.
Ian, or rather his 【limited edition dharma form】 skin clad in a cool three-headed six-armed armor form, stood amidst the wreckage emitting light like a million special effects.
“Make your choice.” His three heads, that is, six eyes, all stared fixedly at Bruce Wayne in front of him, who was in absolute silence with eye sockets covered in charred bloodstains.
Absolute quiet lasted for about… ten seconds.
Very short for ordinary people, very long for a speedster, and for Ian, who was neither ordinary nor just a speedster, these short ten seconds were utterly boring.
So, while Bruce was frantically brainstorming in his mind, analyzing the “ancient god’s” weaknesses, possible origins, and how to use the environment to escape.
The “ancient god’s” middle head suddenly blinked an “eye,” the right arm lifted, Speed Force gathered in the palm, instantly stealing from the future a… selfie stick.
Speed Force should be used in daily life, making Speed Force no longer aloof.
“Click!”
A crisp shutter sound was particularly piercing in the silent Batcave. Ian admired his majestic three-headed six-armed pose in the filter, nodded in satisfaction. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, his left head turned to Bruce and asked in a casual tone like visiting a friend’s house.
“Hey, Batman, what’s your Wi-Fi password? There’s no 5G signal here at all?” As he spoke, Ian shook his mobile phone.
Unfortunately, Batman was blind and really couldn’t see.
“…”
Bruce Wayne, immersed in life-and-death crisis, world survival, and ancient existence conspiracy theory, felt like his recently deafened ears might have a problem too.
Otherwise, how could he have hallucinations?
How did it get to the Wi-Fi password stage?
Did he miss a lot in the middle?
Consider the occasion! Is this the time to ask such questions?!
This place just had a small explosion, most equipment destroyed, a three-headed six-armed “ancient god” standing in front, and he himself just got his eyes blasted blind!
Is this fucking a time to discuss Wi-Fi passwords?!
“As expected, a mentally ill level ancient god…” Batman diagnosed Ian inwardly; he felt Ian’s thinking logic was completely not on the same channel as carbon-based beings—after all, young Bruce lacked future Bruce’s composure, so he broke faster too.
“Damn it! I actually didn’t prepare for this!”
Bruce roared inwardly, a chill rushing from his feet to the top of his head. He had been careless before, thinking Arkham Asylum was the limit of human madness; now it seemed the supernatural realm could produce this completely unreasonable, unpredictable freak!
Arkham can’t hold this kind of existence!
For a moment.
The young Batman began to deeply regret his previous “recklessness” and insufficient thorough thinking, his paranoid and always feeling insufficient vitality issues.
At this moment, Ian personally worsened the condition.
“Don’t mess around, by the way, I don’t need the password anymore, I have my own tech means; now I’ve connected to the Wi-Fi in the manor upstairs.”
Ian’s middle head said to itself.
He was playing with a 【Y1】 mobile phone that absolutely didn’t exist in this era.
Reference and inspiration from the previous life’s Meiying sect openly selling 【Thanksgiving Ying sect】 T1 mobile phones on the America internet, though Ian was at least more conscientious than Meiying sect.
Though on the point of cost tens of bucks, selling for 998, Ian followed the predecessor’s tradition, but at least his phone wasn’t shipped from Yiwu region.
He had angel-like better labor.
“Damn it!!”
Ian fiddled with the mobile phone a few times, his tone suddenly annoyed.
“At this time I haven’t been born yet, my identity information can’t even register Twitter! Can’t post updates to show off… cough, for sacred information broadcast!”
From Ian’s perspective, his logic was crystal clear: with a badass new form, of course take selfies to commemorate; unable to post on social media was like fine clothes under the night to him.
This was a matter of principle!
At the same time, Ian loved the feeling of magic power continuously gathering from the populace. For him, becoming a “big influencer” was completely justified.
However, young Bruce naturally didn’t know this reason; even future Bruce took a while to figure out this trait of Ian.
Precisely because of this.
Ian’s remarks made Batman feel his head increasingly superfluous, his thinking trapped in a viscous quagmire named “Ian logic.”
“？？？？”
He was completely baffled, unable to fathom how Ian’s thinking speed jumped faster than those speedsters, no wonder The Flash often rambled like a madman.
Turns out the source of Speed Force is a madman.
“Not born yet…”
Bruce could only subconsciously latch onto this clearest keyword, frantically speculating on the unknown ancient god’s background, even delving further into conspiracy theory.
“Could it be… those three children aren’t accidental visitors from the future at all, but bait deliberately cast by this ancient god in front of me? Just to lure me, exploit my curiosity about the unknown and confusion about ‘blood ties,’ irresistibly use Speed Force to check the future, thereby opening a gap in the timeline to help it break free from eternity’s prison cage?” Paranoia was like this; Batman had auto-filled an evil plot.
“Yes, yes! That’s exactly it, I’m always extremely smart.” Ian’s three heads nodded simultaneously, tone full of “you finally got it” approval, though he himself didn’t fully understand what Batman was saying, but agreeing was surely safe.
Suddenly.
Ian seemed to realize something.
He turned to look at the three custom stasis pods in the corner.
Sure enough, Jonathan, Jordan, and Damian were locked inside.
“No wonder I’m in the Batcave, turns out they’re here too.” At this moment, Ian finally truly understood what Batman was rambling about.
Like piecing together an important clue, he then turned his attention back to Batman, six hands rubbing together emitting “sizzle” of energy friction.
“My task is almost done, so hurry and pick eyes! Gold eyeballs, silver eyeballs, or our limited-time Cthulhu-style big eyeballs?”
“Or if you fancy someone’s eyeballs, tell me, I’ll dig them out for you now.” Ian chuckled in “Savitar’s” super electric voice.
Seeing this, Batman calmed down a bit instead.
“Blindness deprived my vision, but made my other senses and intuition sharper.” He didn’t respond to the eye choice, but slightly turned his head, “looking” toward Ian with empty sockets, suddenly speaking in a hoarse voice with firmness from insight into certain information.
“Tell me, why… is there a hint of panic in your tone, like you did something wrong?” Batman’s bubble voice was back!
“？？？？”
Ian’s three heads froze simultaneously.
“You heard wrong! What could I do wrong? I haven’t done anything yet! Your own problem! Don’t blame everything on me, okay?”
His middle head immediately denied, tone a bit hasty.
“Heh, just like I said, though I can’t see your expression now, it makes my ears and perception of subtle emotional fluctuations unprecedentedly sharp. You’re urging, even… a trace of imperceptible urgency.” Batman grew more certain of his guess.
“Damn Gotham freak bat!”
Feeling his rare badass moment about to be exposed as bluffing—actually a bit clueless about timeline changes—Ian got anxious.
“Bruce Wayne, wake up, you’re not as important as you think. The river of time won’t change direction because of a blind bat’s struggle.”
His left head immediately corrected in a deeper, hoarser voice trying to sound majestic; in this era, he didn’t want to expose his real identity.
Ancient god turning into Son of Superman?
That would inexplicably drop countless seniority levels for no reason.
Ian’s explanation carried three parts sneer, three parts disdain, three parts contempt, and one part sarcasm, applying Hollywood emotion management manual thoroughly.
However.
He forgot the truth that only the worst actors go to Hollywood.
At this, Batman paused, then his pale lips curved slightly, outlining an extremely subtle yet confident arc.
“I see…”
He seemed to instantly figure out many keys: “My blindness disrupts the original timeline, causing the future to shift in a direction you don’t want, right? So you’re so eager for me to choose new eyes, hoping I regain vision to ensure… ‘history’ runs along the track you know, or rather expect.”
Bruce’s empty gaze precisely “locked” on Ian’s direction; though sightless, the intangible pressure made Ian feel spotlit.
Seeing Ian’s three heads fall silent, Batman pressed psychologically, tone calmly confident: “I sense in your silence the proof I guessed right. Looks like I’m indeed important for the ‘correct’ future development.”
“So, you can’t kill me, even… you need me alive and ‘intact’ to fulfill some duty; your silence is my…”
He was still analyzing!
However.
Ian wasn’t that traditional villain.
So Batman couldn’t finish his full mouth-cannon.
“Rip—!”
A loud tape-tearing sound interrupted Batman; next second, he felt his mouth tighten as a piece of tape from who-knows-where, strong industrial tape reeking of motor oil, sealed his mouth firmly—the helmet not covering the mouth was a fatal flaw now.
Perhaps it let Bruce show his white identity, avoiding being mistaken for a black bro during heroic moments, but now Ian didn’t need to remove the shell to seal his mouth.
“Shut up!”
Ian’s middle head criticized irritably.
“I’m not anxious! I’m not letting you say more than three lines of Daredevil lines! Over three lines is infringement! We need copyright awareness!”
He shouted sophistically.
Completely ignoring how many classic lines from other universes he’d pirated over the years. Clearly, Ian was a bit “red temperature” from Batman’s terrifyingly precise, scalpel-like analysis. So, to prove his “Super Intelligence” no less than “Bat Intelligence.”
Ian decided to counterattack!
Continue playing the “speed ancient god” role well!
“I admit, your brain might make three more portions of chopped pepper brain flower than others, but now, it’s my turn to analyze you, Bruce.”
Ian even incorporated his Dr. Hannibal habit.
Just to be thoroughly bad.
“What are you waiting for?” He leaned down, three heads approaching the tape-sealed, chair-bound Batman, six energy eyes flashing dangerous light.
Pausing, Ian added in a low, teasing tone by Batman’s ear: “Or rather, you dragging time with me here… what for?”
As he spoke, Ian’s right arm casually lifted.
On the ground, the communicator Bruce had pulled out to call—still not hung up— was pulled by invisible force into his hand.
“Dah~”
Ian deftly pressed the speaker button with his tongue.
“Mmph! Mmph mmph!”
Batman widened his empty sockets.
Hearing the communicator’s sound.
His body struggled violently to stop it, but Ian just thought, Speed Force surged like a living thing, instantly scavenging an aircraft carrier arresting cable from the Batcave.
God knows what Bruce stockpiled that for in the Batcave.
But nothing in the Batcave was surprising; Ian used Batman’s own stuff to bind him and the chair into a sturdier dumpling.
Ordinary ropes couldn’t hold Batman.
“This thing’s definitely strong enough, though fungi sold it to you for five million US dollars each; I… I mean, I kindly suggest next time get a 【PinxiXi】 app selling it for only thirty thousand US dollars.”
Ian even kindly explained the app let you pull friends to bargain.
“？？？？”
Batman still couldn’t figure out what this was, how in a tense standoff it suddenly turned into ad time.
“Alright, I’ve done my duty, don’t say I didn’t tell you the money-saving trick.” Then, Ian’s middle head cleared his throat, vocal cords and face muscles micro-controlled by Speed Force instantly simulating Bruce Wayne’s signature deep, slightly hoarse voice.
He spoke into the communicator.
“Alfred, has Superman arrived?”
The communicator went silent for a moment.
Then came Alfred’s voice, still calm but unable to hide worry: “Young Master? Your voice… got phlegm? Sounds odd.”
He clearly noticed the anomaly.
Fortunately, the insightful Butler Hero didn’t dwell.
“Superman hasn’t arrived; I tried contacting him, but he seems busy handling trouble made by Lex Luthor. I investigated Luthor’s side.”
“Luthor seems to have… kidnapped Mr. Kent’s mother, Mrs. Martha.”
This remark.
Was like dropping a heavy bomb in the Batcave!
The bound Batman couldn’t speak but stiffened obviously; clearly this news surprised him too, while Ian’s reaction was infinitely more intense!
“What did you say?!”
Three heads exclaimed simultaneously, the deliberately maintained “ancient god” vibe instantly gone, leaving pure shock and a trace of… panic?
He knew exactly who Mr. Kent’s mother was—his grandmother, Martha Kent!
At this moment, countless memory fragments pieced together in Ian’s mind! He finally knew what timeline this was—not the one where old man and Batman were sleeping… mixed together. But Batman vs. Superman! Luthor’s conspiracy! That classic “Save Martha”!
It was this battle, sparked by misunderstanding, conspiracy, and Luthor’s fanning, that nearly made the future world’s best partners fight to the death!
All this info surged in Ian’s mind. “Whoosh—!”
Without hesitation, not even bothering to say more to Batman, Ian’s body erupted in dazzling gray-white lightning, instantly turning into a streak of light vanishing from the Batcave!
In the empty Batcave, only Bruce Wayne remained, tightly bound by aircraft carrier arresting cable with mouth sealed. He just thought to use this “ancient god’s” sudden departure to focus on escape, like using tongue to pry tape or chair leg to rub a hidden emergency switch.
However.
These thoughts hadn’t turned to action.
“Whoosh—!”
The streak returned.
Ian’s figure abruptly reappeared before him, speed so fast it seemed he never left.
“Almost forgot, can’t fluctuate this timeline too much.” Ian’s right arm extended, holding a small container looking biotech, soaked in some nutrient fluid, containing a pair of lifelike blue eyeballs with neural interfaces.
“These are original goods dug from some Batmen, original plus my handmade, a bit pricier is normal; I’ll deduct the fee from your card.” Without giving Bruce time to react, Ian’s left two arms flashed out lightning-fast.
Accompanied by two soft “pffts.”
He “plugged” the “original goods” precisely into Bruce’s empty sockets in a way beyond modern medicine!
“Hiss!!”
Batman inhaled formaldehyde from the tape.
A tingling numbness and slight sting followed.
Then light sensation surged like a tide! Light! Regaining sight so intensely! Vision even clearer, sharper than before!
“Mmph!!!”
He grunted, instinctively closed eyes, then snapped them open. Ian’s figure had vanished again, as if never returned to the room.
“Truly… hot-swappable bio organs…” Bruce’s mouth still taped, couldn’t speak, but his mind was in turmoil.
Worldview hit unprecedentedly hard.
To be fair.
Batman wasn’t afraid of “fantasy,” “xianxia,” “magical” mysterious existences, but something like Ian subverting his most familiar “science” truly instilled fear.
“Kents’ mother is to be killed, he’s anxious… so anxious he couldn’t even continue toying with me…” Batman forced calm and analyzed.
Ian had long left; in the dim Batcave, only the Dark Knight remained, sight restored yet still tightly bound, thoughts in chaos, pondering alone.
Soon.
Linking to Ian’s prior future info, he felt he’d deduced Ian’s identity, new eyes flashing horror.
Those fragmented infos gathered in Batman’s extraordinary brain, sorted seamlessly with divergent thinking based on existing info.
“So, he’s Superman’s…”
The answer.
Seemed ready to emerge.
“Younger brother!”
Why must Martha live?
Who says a sixty-seventy-year-old woman can’t have kids.
Anyway, Batman thought it possible.
