Impossible to Understand, Far Too Hard to Understand

Batman arrived suddenly and left at ease. But Lynn could still tell that what he had said had frightened him somewhat.

Maybe it was only concern. Batman was not someone who could be so easily brought down; his heart was as hard as stone.

But in the end, he had walked step by step before becoming the midnight phantom everyone feared. On top of that, Lynn did not know much about the heroes and villains of the DC universe, and to avoid seeming like he was spoiling things, he had only spoken in vague circles. That inevitably led Bruce Wayne, master of overthinking, to read far too much into it.

Among those words, Lynn's line—"In Gotham, I might not be the craziest one."—had dealt an incomparable shock to Mr. Batman.

Fuck...

Lynn had even heard him swear.

Before leaving, Lynn handed Batman all the documents he had obtained from Nathan. That was for the legal process—or rather, it was what Batman, who was willing to uphold Gotham's pale, utterly undignified so-called laws, was willing to do.

As for Lynn, what he had seen in his previous life told him that sometimes, violence was the best way to solve a problem.

Sometimes, it was even the only way.

Looks like my ideological level has become incredibly close to Mr. Batman's.

Isn't this big shot also using violence to preserve peace and stability? Hmm... it's settled, then. If anyone asks me in the future, I'll say I learned it from Batman.

He inspired me. He'll always be my role model!

Smack! With a clap of his hands, Lynn stood in the slaughterhouse full of wounded men and jumped excitedly.

Then, he accidentally—at least, he thought it was an accident—stepped on someone's hand.

"Your veins are bulging this high. It must have been hard for you to keep pretending to be dead without making a sound."

His hand closed loosely, and Thresh's lantern appeared in Lynn's grasp.

For now, Lynn still felt that it suited him best when used as a flail.

"I'm not judging you. I'm merely returning the fear you inflicted on others back to you."

"Run—!"

Batman naturally would not kill, so Vigo and his many underlings were basically all lying on the ground, pretending to be dead. Aside from the rare few with broken legs, at Vigo's shout, they all instantly wished they could turn into hundred-meter sprinters and dash away.

They just seemed to have forgotten that beneath their feet, before their eyes, and everywhere in this building, vines and thorns were densely spread.

So, a few seconds later, Lynn swung his hammer as he walked up to one of the men hanging upside down and raised it.

"Bro, give me another one. There's blood all over this bill. What did you do?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry. I worked overtime at the slaughterhouse all night yesterday, so I might have... not noticed."

Lynn exchanged the bill for another one for the clerk at the weapon shop. Seeing that his attitude was good, the guy did not ask further questions. Stores that only accepted cash had seen everything, after all. It was just a little blood. Someone had even brought in handcuffs stamped with the Gotham Police Department logo and asked whether he bought used ones.

Same old saying: this was Gotham. Nothing was strange here.

Since he had bought so much equipment, they even gave him two extra bags. Carrying bag after bag out of the not-so-legitimate "Gotham General Store," Lynn had to admit that the supermarkets here were really nice. Especially the cash-only kind—even expanding bullets were available.

At the slaughterhouse yesterday, Lynn had ultimately failed to save his new clothes. They had gotten stained with a little red and white, so he had no choice but to give them up.

Fortunately, there had been plenty of cash in the slaughterhouse. Lynn was very pleased; his little treasury had received another refill.

So, men really need to get out more and do more work. In this world, there are great places to make money everywhere...

Nathan's little villa was no longer an option. It was not that Lynn had any compulsive attachment to beds or homes, but regardless of whether the place was safe, if he kept living there, he definitely would not have another peaceful day. Who knew how many more waves of trouble might come?

He did not mind making money, but there was a huge difference between taking the initiative and being forced into it.

So where could Lynn go?

With my current identity... after graduating from Arkham, I wonder if I even have legal identification.

Buying a house is definitely unreliable. It doesn't seem like those things can be bought with cash, either. Should I ask Batman for a house?

Hmm... no, I can only ask Bruce Wayne about that. Batman was the one who met me, and there's a big difference between the two. If I just showed up at his door, he certainly wouldn't lack a house to give me, but with that mind of his, who knew how many forces backing me and messy conspiracies he'd imagine.

That won't work either.

Carrying his bags, Lynn stood on the street and fell into confusion.

No, I fucking transmigrated. I have a system and superpowers, so why the fuck am I still worrying about housing?!

"Fuck! Evil real estate!"

Lynn cursed bitterly as he walked a few steps. Then he looked up and saw a street-side billboard: Wayne Realty.

Lynn: "..."

Turning his head, he saw Wayne Private Hospital over there, Wayne Biochemical Research beside it, Wayne Department Store farther away, and even farther still, Wayne Industries, Wayne Motors, Wayne Bank...

"...Fuck."

So it was not a lie that Gotham's criminals spent all night fighting Batman, then after dawn drove Wayne Enterprises cars to Wayne-owned supermarkets to buy groceries before going home to sleep in houses bought from Wayne Realty with thirty-year mortgages from Wayne Bank?!

Vaguely, Lynn seemed to understand why Gotham produced so many extraordinary talents.

"Maxed out. This pressure is fucking maxed out!"

Muttering to himself as he wandered down the street, Lynn suddenly remembered when he saw a secondhand housing billboard, Right! It's not like I don't have a house!

Before entering Arkham for further studies, his dead good-for-nothing father had left him a large house. But since Lynn had been young at the time, that house had somehow ended up belonging to his uncle.

Doesn't this sound like the setup for an eighty-episode family drama?

Could it be that my predecessor righteously wiped out his own family and sent his biological uncle to meet Satan just for this?

Whatever. The Adrian Family now had only one living member left: Lynn. Besides, that place had theoretically become a haunted house. There was absolutely no problem with Lynn moving in now!

Go. He had to go. He would take a taxi!

Lynn gradually solved a whole series of problems concerning food, clothing, housing, transportation, future work, and future goals. He was full of pride and satisfaction.

Batman, on the other hand, was not doing so well. How should he put it? The information Lynn had given him was truly a little frightening.

What did he mean by saying that someday there would be someone who could run around a tree so fast he could fuck himself?

What did he mean by Amazon Lily, where everyone cultivated Haki and ate Tang Monk's flesh to become immortal?

What did he mean, Robin Hood was not dead yet?

Was there a more straightforward explanation for aliens coming to Earth to farm while enjoying sunbathing?

What did he mean by an alien older female cousin actually being an alien younger female cousin?

Why had he asked whether Batman knew who lived in a big pineapple under the deep sea?

And why had he advised him to stockpile more computer viruses?

Finally...

"What did he mean when he said I should unite some reliable teammates in the future? It's impossible to understand, far too hard to understand..."

Batman let out a long sigh as he removed his cowl.