Bruce came and went in a hurry.
The facts proved that even if Batman wanted to live a less serious life, all kinds of bullshit would still keep him constantly on the move.
Now, he had to go home and search through all kinds of hefty psychology tomes for traces of these born psychopaths.
Ignoring Schiller's confused expression when he left, Bruce rushed back to Wayne Manor without stopping, went to the library, and began searching for books that might contain clues.
Once Bruce set his mind on a goal, his ability to act was extremely strong. He darted back and forth between the bookshelves, running his fingers over book spines to check their titles, bringing over ladders to take down books from the highest shelves, and occasionally kneeling on the floor to sort through the books he had selected.
Between two tall rows of bookshelves, a stack of books nearly reaching the ceiling swayed as it floated toward them. If not for the two hands beneath the stack, one might have thought the library was haunted.
Bruce had taken too many books at once, forcing him to sway from side to side to keep his balance. Just as he took a sliding step to the left and steadied the tower of books that was about to collapse, Bruce stood still, sighed, and instinctively called out, "Dick!"
The moment the name left his mouth, Bruce's expression froze. He pressed his lips into a straight line and no longer bothered with the collapsing tower of books. Looking at the books scattered all over the floor, Bruce let out a soft sigh.
Just as Bruce crouched down to pick up the books, a string of footsteps came from the stairwell. Jason, carrying Aisha, ran upstairs with a rapid thump-thump-thump. Seeing the mess