Bruce's Midlife Rebellion

"I'm back. Saving the world is exhausting."

As soon as Allen returned to the Batcave, he went straight to Bruce's bedside.

Bruce, currently weak and not yet recovered, needed a day or two of rest.

With his superior physique and top-tier medical equipment, there were no major physical issues.

Under the gaze of several pairs of eyes, Allen unceremoniously sat on the bed, leaning next to Bruce. He placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder and said with an air of seniority, "Batsy, let Uncle give you some advice. Flowers that have wilted will bloom again, but premature ejaculation means she's leaving. You need to learn to increase income and decrease expenditure."

"..."

Bruce asked weakly, "Allen, you must have found something, right?"

"Of course," Allen said proudly. "Who am I? The embodiment of justice, the king of comedy. Even my poop smells fragrant."

He didn't forget to add earnestly, "Without me, this world will be doomed sooner or later."

Upon hearing this, everyone's faces darkened.

This world actually seems a little more normal without you.

Cough cough...

Allen cleared his throat and moved to a chair, clasping his hands under his chin and saying seriously, "In the nest, I didn't just find the Owl Judges, but also the Ibis Priests living hidden underground."

"Ibis Priests?"

Bruce cast a doubtful look.

The Owl Judges looked like that. He had been trapped in the nest and seen them. They all wore masks, so their true appearances couldn't be seen, and their voices had been specially processed.

Therefore, he couldn't rashly attack Gotham's wealthy without leaving any evidence, which could then be used by public opinion to put him in a passive position.

"The Ibis Priests are a humanoid race with terrifying appearances. They are followers of Barbatos."

As he spoke, Allen made a pincer shape with his hands around his mouth, describing, "They look like Predators, with four fangs in their mouths, top and bottom. They're just not as strong as Predators."

"Predators?"

Bruce became more and more confused. What was all this nonsensical content?

"Predators? Haven't you heard of them? They're an alien hunting civilization that specializes in hunting powerful creatures to complete trials. Their technology is as high as four or five stories. They especially like hunting Aliens," Allen said, getting more and more excited. "Do you know about Aliens? They hatch facehuggers from eggs, and when they find a creature, they attach to its face, injecting an embryo into its mouth to parasitize it. Then, a mature Alien bursts out of the chest from within the body. It's so thrilling."

"Now, you might be able to find them at Villain Corp, or you could go to the Antarctic ice sheets and find the Pyramid where the Alien Queen is imprisoned."

What are you doing, reciting a script?

Bruce and the five young heroes didn't believe a word of it.

Could you believe someone who's mentally ill?

However, they had heard of Villain Corp. It was a leading global biopharmaceutical company, far surpassing Wayne Group in many aspects.

"Allen, you're going off-topic," Bruce reminded him.

"Back to the main point."

Allen spoke excitedly, "So, there was this group of people with too much money who met a bunch of cultists. Just a hint, it wasn't the group we encountered in Silent Hill. They came to their door promoting an immortality project. I've traveled a bit in the Dark Multiverse. The risks are a bit high, but the profits are huge. As they say, fortune favors the bold. If you have the guts, after it's done, I'll take seven, and you'll get three. This group heard about it and thought, 'This project is extravagant enough! I, Wang Duoyu, will invest!' The project planning became much simpler: induce you, Batsy, to come into contact with five types of metal. Amber Gold, Serpent's Blood, Promethium, Nth Metal, and Bat-Metal..."

Bruce asked confusedly, "Why me?"

What did I do to deserve this? They're shoving metals into my body! Bruce felt very angry and wronged.

"That's a profound question," Allen pondered for a moment before answering, "It's because you have high popularity. The story needs to revolve around you to have sales."

"..."

Allen blinked and asked, "Where was I?"

"Bat-Metal."

"Ah, yes, grilled gluten skewers," Allen continued. "When you eat those grilled gluten skewers, Batsy, it's equivalent to becoming a temporal anchor. Azure Winged Bat King Wei Yixiao can then successfully invade our world, first sending in the vanguard, the Dark Knights. The superheroes will achieve victory through a desperate battle. Then the big boss appears, and the problem becomes really serious. Fortunately, I found the rice cooker that sealed King Piccolo, took out the Tenth Metal inside, defeated the boss, and released Perpetua, who was imprisoned within the Origin Wall."

Everyone exchanged glances, seemingly not understanding.

But they could be sure of one thing: the problem was very serious.

As they were processing the information, Allen suddenly stood up, his expression solemn. "Oh no, things are far worse than we imagined."

Allen stepped forward and grabbed Bruce's shoulders, warning him, "Batsy, you already have three types of metal. You absolutely cannot touch Hawkman's weapons, Doctor Fate's helmet, or Deathstroke's equipment. Those all contain Nth Metal."

"Why do I feel like your real intention is for me to steal their equipment?"

With the targets and items clearly stated, Bruce couldn't help but suspect Allen was speaking in reverse.

"I have some over there."

Allen shyly turned his head away.

You're blushing for no reason.

Bruce asked, "When did I get three types of metal?"

He hadn't seen any so-called special metals from beginning to end, and now he'd inexplicably come into contact with three. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Moreover, how did Allen know all this so clearly?

A series of questions, indeed quite a few.

"In the Labyrinth of the Nest, did you drink water from the spring pool?"

Facing Allen's question, Bruce nodded and admitted that after being trapped in the maze for days with no food or water, it was normal to drink from the spring pool to quench his thirst.

"That was Amber Gold, deliberately luring you to drink it."

Allen pointed out, "There's a pure Serpent's Blood pool hidden in the underground river of the Batcave. The Talons' equipment brought back by Dick and Jason might have a Promethium coating on the surface. That makes three, doesn't it?"

If the Owl Judges were present, they would surely exclaim in amazement.

They thought they were only on the first step, but in reality, they had already completed the third.

"It's so late, I'm returning to the spring."

Allen glanced at the non-existent watch on his wrist, then adjusted the non-existent monocle over his right eye socket, saying meaningfully, "Every gift from destiny has already been marked with a price."

Unshakable, he went home on time.

Seeing Allen off, the Batcave fell silent.

"Dick, let me see the Talons' weapons," Bruce gestured.

"Allen said you shouldn't touch them," Dick hesitated.

"You believe what a lunatic says?"

"..."

Bruce examined the exquisitely crafted combat knife, finding nothing unusual. He then ordered, "Dig down in the Batcave, let's see if there's any Serpent's Blood."

Reality often followed its original course.

In the original story, Bruce, ignoring the objections of the Justice League, obstinately researched five types of special metals, attempting to find a solution to Barbatos' invasion of reality, which ultimately led to disaster.

To put it simply.

Bruce's rebellious nature grew from his neck to the tip of his tailbone, creating problems while trying to solve them.

It was a case of midlife rebellion.