American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 980 Peter: Happy Halloween, Bruce!

Afu shrugged. "Yeah, but Halloween doesn't seem to mean much to us."

Just when Bruce thought this Halloween might be as quiet as before, Alfred noticed someone outside the door.

He greeted Bruce and went outside.

A few minutes later.

The two heavy, iron gates of Wayne Manor, which had isolated the world from it, slowly opened under Peter's car headlights.

Alfred was somewhat surprised to be greeted by the three of them.

The manor was even quieter inside than outside, with only the monotonous ticking of the old clock echoing in the empty hall, adding to the desolation.

Peter held one daughter's hand in each hand, his thick boots echoing clearly on the smooth, cold marble floor, breaking the tomb-like silence.

Mordred looked around curiously, her blond hair shimmering in the dim light of the wall lamp.

Ceresia was much quieter, her eyes cautiously observing the vast and oppressive space, her small hands tightly gripping Peter's fingers.

The father and his two daughters walked through the empty corridor, where they could hear their own footsteps, and finally stopped in front of the heavy, carved oak door of the study.

Peter didn't even knock; he simply grabbed the brass doorknob with his free hand and twisted it hard.

The door opened.

Warm light, the faint scent of cigars, and the warm aroma of burning oak from the fireplace wafted over.

Bruce stood with his back to the door, in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the deep night sky of Gotham.

He was dressed in dark loungewear, his tall figure exuding an inescapable sense of loneliness.

Hearing the door open, Bruce slowly turned around, his face showing the usual impatience of being disturbed.

However, when his gaze passed over Peter's tall figure and landed on the two small figures beside him, Bruce paused slightly.

Standing to Peter's left was Ceresia, dressed in a uniquely tailored Gothic dress in deep purple and dark red tones, with tiered skirts and dark gold patterns along the edges.

Most striking of all were the two curved, devilish horn-like headdresses she wore, seemingly cast from obsidian or some dark metal, which shimmered eerily in the warm light of the study.

Ceresia's long purple hair cascaded down, with a few strands clinging to her cheeks. Combined with her slightly lowered head and a tense yet mysterious demeanor, she looked exactly like a young witch with forbidden magic.

To Peter's right is Mordred.

Her attire was wilder and more direct, with her small body encased in slightly exaggerated armor, and even the shoulders and chest adorned with protruding spikes that gleamed coldly under the lights.

She wore a helmet of the same style, with a sharp nose guard and exaggerated horns, revealing only a pair of excited eyes.

Little Mordred stood with one hand on her hip and the other gripping the knight's sword she had brought with her spaceship. She held her head high, her silver hair stubbornly peeking out from the gaps in her helmet.

Two small figures, each with a distinct style yet both imbued with a strong dark fairytale aura, unexpectedly came into Bruce's view.

Time seemed to freeze for a second.

Bruce's lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

Mordred didn't care about any of that. When she saw Bruce, she excitedly took a step forward, and her heavy little armor made a clanging metallic sound (the armor Peter made using rubies based on Mordred's design from the Type-Moon universe).

She tilted her small face up under her helmet and, with all her might, let out what she thought was her loudest and most imposing roar:

"Trick or treat!!!"

A clear, childlike voice exploded in the quiet study, carrying with it an unreasonable and destructive force.

Seresa shrank back, startled by Mordred's roar, and the huge horns on her head trembled.

She glanced quickly at Bruce's clearly startled expression, a hint of smugness and triumph flashing in her eyes, before mustering her courage and whispering in a much softer tone than Mordred:
"...Trick or Treat...?"

Peter stood between the two "little monsters," and looking at Bruce's rare, almost "terrified" expression, he felt unexpectedly relieved.

This kid is finally no longer wearing that poker face.

Bruce stood frozen in place, his gaze shifting between Mordred's wild little armor, Ceresa's enormous demon horns, and Peter's amused smile.

"Of course."

Bruce quickly realized what was happening, coughed, and looked at the plates on the table.

But by then, the candy had already been eaten by him and Afu.

They thought no children would come asking for candy, so they ate it, but they never expected to encounter such an embarrassing situation.

Bruce was instantly replaced by a stronger sense of embarrassment mixed with a feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Oops!

This is really bad!

Mordred's eyes, peeking out from the gaps in his helmet, were fixed on him, as if silently urging, "Where's the candy? Give it to me!" Although Ceresa was quieter, her purple eyes, hidden beneath the giant demon's horns, were also sparkling with curiosity and anticipation, locked on him.

The air seemed to freeze, and the crackling of the fireplace wood sounded particularly jarring.

Bruce Wayne's brain was working at an unprecedented speed.

In a flash, Bruce's taut jawline relaxed slightly.

He didn't look at Peter's mocking gaze, nor did he try to explain where the candy went.

Instead, he took a step forward, his posture exuding an almost exaggerated elegance and composure, as if the two little monsters begging for candy before him were distinguished guests who needed to be personally received by him, the richest man in Gotham.

He bent slightly, his gaze level with Mordred's helmet visor and the tips of Ceressa's demon horns, and gave an apologetic smile.

"what!"

Bruce's voice was deep and pleasant, with just the right dramatic pause, "The bravest little berserker and the most mysterious little witch... you've arrived just in time, but a little too late."

He straightened up, turned to the side, and gracefully pointed to the empty silver plate.

“Look,” he said with a regretful tone, as if sharing a secret, “just now, a sudden ‘candy famine’ struck Wayne Manor, and all the candy has been given away by the children.”

Mordred's face fell instantly, the excited light under her helmet visibly dimmed, replaced by deep disappointment, and her little mouth pouted.

Although Ceresia didn't speak, her purple eyes dimmed slightly, and she lowered her head slightly, making her enormous horns seem to droop a bit.

Bruce keenly observed their emotional shifts.

He abruptly changed the subject:
"but!"

He deliberately dragged out his tone, successfully capturing the attention of both girls once again.

"Halloween magic isn't just in candy; I have even more mysterious and unique Halloween 'candy' here!"

Bruce then turned and strode toward a large display case covered in dark velvet on one side of the study.

The cabinet contains some antiques and artworks from the family collection, as well as some trinkets that Bruce personally enjoys.

Peter raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

He wanted to see what tricks Bruce had up his sleeve.

Bruce's fingers moved quickly across the cabinet door lock, and the door slid open silently.

Instead of touching the priceless antiques, he precisely took out two items from an inconspicuous compartment on the bottom shelf.

"Given the two ladies' impressive attire and their courage to visit Wayne Manor on such a cold night."

Bruce's voice was deep and magnetic, "Ordinary candy is clearly not good enough for you."

He first looked at Mordred and handed her the object in his right hand.

It was a batarang, meticulously carved from some kind of dark hardwood.

It wasn't the kind of sharp metal weapon Bruce himself used, but a model with smooth lines and rounded, smooth edges.

The natural grain of the wood is clearly visible, exuding a primitive and mysterious aura.

The tips of the batarangs were even outlined with fine lines using dark red paint.

Bruce's voice carried a hint of solemnity, "A mysterious weapon, once belonging to an ancient shadow hunter, said to grant the wearer a sharp eye for the dark."

Bruce then turned to Ceresa and extended his left hand.

In his palm was a small, uniquely shaped badge.

It is made from a deep purple mineral and is shaped like a crescent moon with a bite taken out of it, or like a mysterious cat's eye stone.

At the center of the badge is an exceptionally bright black gemstone. Under the study light, stardust seems to slowly swirl inside the gemstone, emitting a deep purplish-black light.

"This is a mysterious gemstone, and it is said that wearing it will bring good luck to the wearer."

Seresa carefully picked up the gem with her fingertips.

Within the purplish-black ore, the swirling stardust immediately drew her full attention.

She gently stroked the badge's cool surface, feeling its strange luster, as if she could truly sense the "magic" it contained.

Then Ceresia looked up at Bruce, a shy yet incredibly satisfied smile on her face, and nodded gently.
"Thank you, Bruce."

Peter stared at the scene before him, lost in thought.

He had always thought Bruce was a bit old-fashioned, but he never expected that this kid was also a guy with high emotional intelligence who was good at coaxing children.

Who says Batman is heartless? Isn't he quite good at socializing?
Peter took a deep breath, coughed, and said to Bruce, "Happy Halloween, Bruce!"

(End of this chapter)