Miaomiao stuck out her tongue, neither admitting nor denying it. She had long known that Bruce's brain was practically a cheat code. A little trick like this could never fool him.
At the name, Tim showed no particular reaction, but Jason's and Damian's hands froze as they reached for the dried fish.
"Waylon Jones?!"
Waylon Jones was Killer Croc's name.
Jason and Killer Croc were old adversaries. They couldn't stand each other and got into fights from time to time. Aside from his experience as a wrestler in a circus, Killer Croc had no formal hand-to-hand training and fought almost entirely on instinct. With his varied tactics and heavy firepower, Jason usually came out on top, but Killer Croc's incredible strength, resilience, and regenerative abilities had given Red Hood plenty of trouble, too.
As for Damian, the self-proclaimed young genius had come from the centuries-old League of Assassins and received Batman's training. As the only biological child of Gotham's richest man, he had always looked down on Killer Croc, who had nothing but brute strength and lived in the sewers.
So...
These dried fish they were eating...
Had been made by Killer Croc?!
After a few seconds, Jason casually picked up another dried fish and popped it into his mouth as though nothing had happened. "Never figured he knew how to make these."
Damian stopped hesitating, too, and added, "I thought all that guy did was gnaw on live fish... His cooking does have some merit."
"You can't judge a book by its cover." Miaomiao smiled, picked up another dried fish, and handed it to Bruce. "If you like them, have some more. Next time you want any, you'll have to trade cookies from the Batcave. Alfred's tried Little Croc's roasted dried fish, and he's already agreed."
"You certainly know