System malfunction || DC

Chapter Twenty-Five

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Friendly Competition

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Bruce entered the manor from beneath the earth. He'd removed his nocturnal shell and was ready to rest his sore limbs. Another battle with the Joker began early in the morning and finished late at night. A cat-and-mouse game that ended only because the clown was hit by a car.

"Can't you see I'm spreading mayhem, dipshit?" yelled the clown, slamming the hood of the car in a fury. The driver hopped out of his car, looked sideways, and then discarded the mangled villain into a dumpster before driving away.

Batman couldn't decide whether to laugh or stop the hit-and-run, so he inevitably decided to go home instead and pass his night patrol duties to one of his many slaves - I mean - children.

He felt something trickle over his cheek as he approached the main entrance, trying to reach the kitchen for some coffee. With wrinkled brows, he looked up and felt another chilly feeling. He rubbed a hand against the sensation and glanced down at his hands.

Water? Is there a leaking pipe?

That's when he opened his sleepy eyes and took a more in-depth look at him. Wet spots might be spotted on the walls and ceilings at random. The marble had puddled, and the stair banisters were dripping.

"Did Aquaman pay us a visit, Alfred?" He yelled, his face flushed with uncertainty and astonishment. Though the half-fish discovering his identity was extremely implausible, it was significantly more likely than a tsunami or indoor rain.

Alfred emerged from a corridor decked out in wet gear, gumboots, googles, and a mop. The elderly man grasped it like a weapon and pointed it accusingly at the man. Bruce took a step back, unaccustomed to the man's hostility towards him.

"It's your fault for having so many children and not teaching them basic respect for a tidy house," the guy grumbled, annoyed that the disorder was created by the billionaires' wards rather than an unnatural phenomenon.

"What did Jason do now?" groaned the man, stroking his hurting temples. Alfred snorted and smacked the mop on the floor, swishing it about before squeezing the contents into a pail.

"This time it wasn't just the zombie but the girls as well"

Girls? As in the plural?

"What about the ladies? Have they arrived?" Bruce had a big grin on his face now. It had been a long time since the clan's female members had graced their presence, and Bruce had much missed them.

Alfred was taken aback by the men's obvious biases and tutted, shaking his head but still pointing down the corridor. Bruce took them for being in the game area and began walking excitedly towards them.

Barbara was a tough and determined lady. She might be irresponsible at times, despite her normally sensible and calm demeanor when called upon. She was someone who could make a joke while yet keeping her word. With a glittering stare, she could always tell what you were thinking and either assist you or hurt you with that information.

Stephanie was unique. A person who is intense and motivated. But not in the sense of a gloomy, coldly analytical furious loner devoted to vengeance. Her motive is powerful yet complex, and she doesn't grasp it all. But when she's with others, her high-energy and infectious laughter never fails to make them grin.