Clark, who had been studying the Angel's wings, noticed Bat-Cat suddenly leap out of his arms and land on the ground. The black cat dug its long, sharp claws into the floor, arched its body, every hair along its back standing on end as it continuously let out hissing breaths.
A pair of hands wrapped around Black Cat's waist and lifted her from the ground, holding her in an embrace. Schiller stroked Bat-Cat's head, but Bat-Cat only kept struggling, trying to jump out of Schiller's arms.
"Hey, Professor, don't hold him like that. He doesn't like anyone touching his tail. Here, give him to me." Clark walked over and held out his hands to Schiller. At that instant, Bat-Cat suddenly stopped making a fuss. He desperately winked at Clark, as though trying to tell him not to come over right now.
But no matter how good Clark's eyesight was, no one could expect him to read a cat's signals. Humans found it difficult to glean anything meaningful from a cat's face, let alone a black cat whose expressions were nearly impossible to see.
Schiller scratched Bat-Cat under the chin. Bat-Cat instinctively lifted his face, but the next second, he began struggling again, shivering uncontrollably.
"Professor, I'm sorry for wrecking your bookstore." Clark scratched his head and said, "I'll do my best to clean this place up, but if you want it repaired, we'll probably have to ask Bruce."
As he spoke, Clark leaned to one side and peered toward the street corner, saying somewhat baffledly, "Just now, he left in a hurry. His car almost went over the speed limit. I have no idea what he was going off to do..."
At those words, Bat-Cat's eyes widened. He let out a drawn-out meow, but with Batman's uniquely hoarse voice, it