Stark Industries equipment had always been reliable, especially with Jarvis customizing it for support. The projection appeared on the screen quickly, but the sheer strangeness of the image exceeded everyone's imagination.
The main perspective seemed to be walking through a desolate, terrifying asylum. The corridor bulbs flickered, black night stretched beyond the windows, and strange noises came from upstairs. The view shifted slightly, revealing a pale hand holding an enormous boning knife.
How a scene that looked like the prelude to a murder had appeared had to be explained by the argument from several hours earlier.
Constantine had herded the children out of the cramped basement room like ducks. The room outside was a little larger, but it proved that while not everyone liked having a pack of children gathered around them like Batman did, not everyone could handle a pack of children like Batman either.
People often blamed Batman for failed communication with Robin, because they believed he was the one holding authority and bearing responsibility. But teenagers truly were emotionally unstable and lacked self-control. Even professional psychologists found communicating with them far more difficult than communicating with adult mental patients.
"Bruce Wayne, why did you summon that damned god?! You stole my victory!" Harley shouted at Little Bruce. "I could've chopped that damned mastermind into ten thousand pieces!"
"What do you know?" Little Bruce snorted. "I did it precisely so they wouldn't get what they wanted. Both the knowledge in my head and that book belong to me. How could I ensure their safety in someone else's hands? Of course I had to find a way to take both the power and the book with me."
"But you should've let me kill that mastermind first! I should've killed him! That damned idiot is more disgusting than dog shit!