Chapter 27

After the chains returned to the manor, the atmosphere became much more harmonious.

The aftermath of the previous argument had not yet completely dissipated, but a subtle, temporary peace had been reached between the two.

The corridor was silent, with only the echo of their footsteps.

Bruce turned sideways and said calmly:

"Stay in my room tonight."

Jack was stunned, raised his head, and a hint of surprise appeared on his face.

"Are you sure?" He asked dryly, "You mean we sleep together tonight?"

Bruce did not explain. He calmly pushed open the door, replacing the answer with action, as if this was just a trivial matter.

Jack stared at him for a few seconds, then walked in.

The two entered the bedroom one after the other.

The room was filled with a faint scent of wood.

Jack threw his coat aside, turned his head, and asked:

"Why did you suddenly change your mind? Weren't you used to not being used to it?"

His tone was relaxed, with a hint of teasing.

Bruce closed the door, turned on the light, and tidied the table. He replied, "It's convenient for me to take care of you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, about to say something, but Bruce paused and added,

"...because I wanted to."

Jack chuckled, pulled out a chair, and sat down at the desk.

On the table lay a stack of newspapers, a few ballpoint pens scattered about, and a box of cookies next to the lamp.

Jack pointed at the box and asked curiously,

"Can I try some?"

Bruce, who was changing, glanced sideways at him.

"Sure."

Jack took a small cookie from the box and examined it.

"...Is this made by Alfred?"

Bruce fastened his belt and hummed casually.

Jack took a bite of the cookie, the sweetness spreading quickly in his mouth. It was soft, crispy, and had a hint of butter.

His eyes lit up, and he reached for another.

"Alfred's cooking is really good," he exclaimed.

Bruce buttoned his cape and glanced at him.

"I'm going out for a while."

He changed into his Batman uniform and prepared to go on patrol.

Jack looked up and waved at him.

"See you later, Mr. Hero, be safe--"

...

The door closed, and the bedroom returned to silence.

Jack leaned lazily back in his chair, casually flipped open the newspaper, and scanned the headlines on the page.

"A large-scale strike broke out in the East District--"

He squinted and continued to read.

At this time, the text began to shake, and everything in front of him seemed to be covered with a layer of mist.

"-There may be heavy rain in the next three days."

"...Huh?"

Jack frowned, holding a biscuit in his mouth, his mind working a little slowly.

He blinked and tried to refocus his vision.

"Yesterday, Superman held a press conference in Metropolis to respond to the unidentified spacecraft wreckage--"

The words seemed to be soaked in water, and the edges began to blur.

They kept sliding and jumping, making it difficult for Jack to distinguish the position of the next sentence.

"-He reiterated the concept of "order and peace"--"

"-Promoting the establishment of a global security order--"

The light and dark in front of his eyes alternated, and his eyelids were heavy and he couldn't lift them.

Jack stared intently at a line of text on a page, only to find it gradually blurring, stretching, and finally dissolving into a hazy mess.

A biscuit fell to the floor, and he instinctively tried to pick it up. He leaned over and groped for it.

His fingertips traced the cool wood grain,

but everything before him twisted and shifted, becoming blurry. Even the slightest thought of picking up the object vanished from his mind...

his consciousness sank into a haze.

He slid from the chair and fell into a deep sleep.

...

Outside the door, Bruce stood quietly.

After checking that the breathing in the room was even and steady, he pushed the door open and walked in silently.

The bedroom was so quiet that only the ticking of the clock could be heard.

Jack lay on his back, the newspaper he was clutching crumpled in his hands.

Bruce walked over, leaned over, picked him up, and laid him on the bed.

Then, he retrieved a set of professional straps from the nightstand drawer and first secured Jack's hands to the hidden buckles at the headboard, then tied his feet together, making sure he could not move.

The straps were equipped with micro-sensors on the inside, so if Jack moved, the terminal would immediately receive a signal.

This was the equipment he usually used to tie up criminals. He

buckled and tied them, making sure he couldn't escape.

He then stood up and quietly glanced at the person on the bed.

After a moment, he turned and left.

This time, he truly transformed into a bat and plunged into the night.

———

Late at night.

Bruce finished his night patrol and pushed open the bedroom door. The room was silent, with only the ticking of the clock.

Jack lay dozing in bed.

After washing up, Bruce walked to the other side of the bed, hesitantly lifted the covers and lay down, keeping a distance from Jack.

He closed his eyes.

A minute later, he opened them.

He closed his eyes

again. He opened them again.

Bruce was distraught, regretting his decision to keep Jack close to him.

He rolled over, carefully avoiding the person beside him.

Too much had happened during the day, leaving him no time for reflection. But at night, those unwanted emotions began to come roaring back at him, leaving him completely overwhelmed.

In fact, when he saw the clown appear, the emotions in his heart were much more complicated than simple anger.

At that moment, beneath the anger,

there was a trace of something difficult to admit -

relief, even joy.

The evidence he had been trying to find, the truth that everyone had forgotten, was verified in that moment.

The clown's crazy laughter brought a real physical sensation, and he finally confirmed that everything in his memory had really existed.

... He remembered the kiss again.

Thanks to his powerful memory, he remembered all the details, the touch, the temperature, the breath -

His mind began to replay the scene uncontrollably.

Dammit!

Bruce pulled the covers over his head, forcing himself to shut up, but the embarrassment and shame lingered.

It was a futile effort.

He should have fallen asleep exhausted after his night patrol, not been lying awake at three in the morning over something embarrassing.

Bruce took a deep breath and tried to drift off again.

The bedroom was quiet, with only the sound of Jack's even breathing.

His thoughts raced again.

What should he do next?

What could have caused Jack's split personality? Was

he putting on a show?

What about the drugs in the candy ?

The psychotropic medication... what would happen if he stopped taking it?

Could the Joker be the key to the mystery? Should he bring the Joker out and interrogate him? Was all this really worth it? Could the Joker's words be trusted?

If the Joker completely transformed into Jack, would that mean he could live like a normal person?

What force could rewrite reality, reshape the world?

Should he confess to Jack?

He didn't know.

...

In the past, he felt the world fall apart when he saw Jack lying beside him.

Now, he personally made up a lie to deceive Jack and locked him in his bed.

...The world is really ridiculous.

Bruce turned over and looked at Jack with expressionless eyes.

A sleepless night.