Futile Results

Batman tapped his fingertip lightly against the console, breaking the silence inside the Batcave.

His brow furrowed slightly, and his gaze was filled with scrutiny and doubt.

Never appeared in known alien civilization databases.

The moment his voice fell, he pressed a key on the console, and the display switched screens to reveal a massive database interface.

On it were listed thousands of known alien civilizations in the universe, arranged in descending order of threat level, with detailed information for each civilization including racial characteristics, technological level, civilization structure, and whether they were aggressive.

He entered the keyword "Viltrum" to search, which even included all possible approximate or similar homophonic words.

Yet the screen constantly displayed no matching results.

Batman did not give up.

A lack of records did not mean non-existence, but rather might mean that this civilization was extremely mysterious, or came from some unknown region of the universe.

He pulled up data on known dangerous civilizations in the universe once more, comparing them one by one.

From a certain alien planet that worshipped slaughter to interstellar pirate gangs making a living by plundering resources, the data on every dangerous civilization was carefully reviewed by him.

Not even a similar one.

Batman's brow twisted together like steel reinforcement bars.

Shane's description of being "bloodthirsty and bellicose" and "proud of conquest," alongside the description of that fellow flying in the sky when he dropped Shane off at his place three days ago:

"This kid is really tough. Honestly, when I was around his age, I don't think I had a physique as formidable as his."

All of these instantly caused Batman to list him as a potential high-threat target.

For a race capable of carving slaughter and conquest into their civilization's genes, the appearance of any single individual near Earth would bring a potentially massive disaster to the planet.

What was more, if a mere "teenage rebel" possessed such a formidable physique, the strength of regular Viltrumite warriors would likely be even more terrifying.

Batman's gaze grew increasingly grave as he began to construct a combat capability model of the Viltrumites in his mind, analyzing the threats they might pose to Earth.

Yet regrettably, the fellow who brought Shane over these past three days had kept a close eye on him the entire time.

Unlike that silly, naive big blue boy in Metropolis currently, that fellow wearing a black combat suit hadn't even given Batman a sliver of an opportunity to acquire more physiological samples of that teenager.

He had only managed to get a single drop of blood.

At this moment, that drop of blood was deep underground in the Batcave, inside a roaring analyzer.

Yet due to the excessively scarce sample, many tests could not be carried out at will, and understanding the true nature of that teenager would likely require a long period of time.

A rebel fleeing his home planet?

Batman's gaze was filled with scrutiny.

The vocal tone fluctuations matched the characteristics of tension and fear, the heart rate data was basically normal, and the breathing frequency showed no obvious abnormalities either, but special-trained camouflage cannot be ruled out.

His gaze landed on the window on the display showing Shane's physiological data, carefully analyzing the changes in every data point.

When Shane described the cruelty of Viltrum, his heart rate did indeed rise slightly, and his breathing grew somewhat hurried; these physiological reactions all matched a normal person's manifestation when recalling terrifying experiences.

Yet Batman dared not lower his guard, for he had seen far too many enemies adept at camouflage, with some agents undergoing special training capable of perfectly controlling their physiological reactions so that observers could find no flaws from the surface.

This teenager named Shane had grown up in a cruel environment since childhood, and had inevitably undergone rigorous training as well.

Were these reactions truly the outpouring of genuine emotions, or a meticulously designed disguise?

Batman could not be certain, nor did he dare to jump to conclusions easily.

In his view, any individual from an unknown alien civilization was worthy of the highest level of vigilance, even if the other party appeared to be merely a severely injured teenager.

He did not believe Shane's words.

He had also prepared for the worst.

What if this teenager was a mole sent by Viltrum to prepare for subsequent invasion?

What if all those statements of his were false, and his so-called "escape" was merely a pretense, with his true objective being to lurk on Earth?

All of these possibilities existed and needed to be verified one by one.

Batman never believed anyone's unilateral claims; he only believed in evidence.

"Initiate level-two monitoring protocol, and closely track the target's movements."

Batman issued a command to the console.

"In addition, contact Green Lantern and have him help check the Oa database to see if a civilization named 'Viltrum' exists in the universe."

The console emitted a slight beep, indicating that the command had been successfully executed.

The monitoring protocol activated, and countless miniature devices hidden around the loft began operating in all directions.

Communication signals with the Green Lantern Corps had also been sent out, and he was currently awaiting a response from the other side.

Moments later, a somewhat flippant voice sent a call request to Batman.

"Knock, knock, knock? Is Batman home?"

Batman leaned his body back slightly, quietly listening to the roaring sounds faintly transmitted through his earpiece.

Then he asked emotionlessly.

"Sounds like it's quite lively over there?"

"Yeah, buddy, yeah."

Hal Jordan's voice was accompanied by slightly hurried breathing.

"You know how it is—space cops arresting space criminals, just another day at the office. Only this guy is a bit too slippery, he runs really fast!"

With a dark expression, Batman waited until Hal stopped chattering over there before opening his mouth to question him.

"Where is the data I asked you to check?"

"Ah, you're always so impatient. When you're on a date with a chick, do you also..."

Batman let out a heavy, cold snort, prompting Hal Jordan to hurriedly shut his mouth and rein it in a bit.

"No, Batman, no."

"What?"

Batman's expression grew even more grave.

"I said no. What Viltrum? There's no such planet at all. The Oa database has no records of it—none a thousand years in the past, and heaven knows a thousand years in the future."

Batman could not help sitting up straight, tapping a finger to switch the screen back to the surveillance footage of Shane lowering his head to drink soup.

He stared fixedly at the teenager while once again unable to resist seeking verification from Hal Jordan.

"Are you sure you actually checked seriously?"

Another flurry of dense explosions came from Hal's end, accompanied by Hal's miserable scream, followed by the sound of being heavily slammed into the dirt.

After a long while, Hal's somewhat exhausted voice came through once again.

"Buddy, do you think Oa's supercomputer is some Earth-made piece of junk?"

Bang!

Hal seemed to punch something, and even rebuked it with a shout to behave.

"The moment I received your communication signal, I forwarded the query request for Viltrum to Oa's data center library. Oa's integrated intelligence only needs three seconds to query all historical records from the past up to the present, and the conclusion is that no such thing as Viltrum exists."

Batman fell into silence.

Hal fed a few calls over there, and receiving no response, said somewhat helplessly.

"Do yourself a favor and think carefully. Even if Oa might not contain all the knowledge of our universe, a planet existing as a bellicose and bloodthirsty civilization would inevitably interact with other civilizations—through war!"

"Yet we still cannot find a trace of Viltrum's past existence. Either your source of information is fake, or I'll have to request the League to conduct a mental evaluation on you. Did you get hoodwinked by Joker?"