Which one is better if the officials are forced to die together [Comprehensive British and American]

After saying this, Carl just passed the last step of the stairs, and he turned briskly and non-stop to the position of the room, just missing Alfred's extremely weird expression in an instant.

Bruce.Wayne's waking up is serious.

How serious is it?

Alfred, the loyal old butler of the Wayne family, can say responsibly that if the usual Bruce.Wayne, the bracketed Batman is an IQ monster purely manipulated by reason, so Bruce who hasn't woken up yet.Wayne is just a giant baby with a negative IQ and a bad temper that makes the saint collapse.

The old butler has fought countless times against the horribly bad habits of the little master who has become the head of the family, but every time he gets the result is a miserable failure.

Bruce wouldn't swear, or fight the old butler who came to wake him up, but he would hug his comforter, bury his head deep in the pillow like an ostrich, whether it was drawing the curtains, Yelling loudly in his ear, tempting with delicious food, or a major accident with a crisis index of five stars, none of which could make Bruce lift those heavy eyelids.

So after Carl said "I'll wake him up" in an understatement tone, Alfred didn't believe that Carl could really do it.

But he didn't stop Carl either.

If those fluffy "I suggest you get some dessert in the drawing room" and "Master was up late last night" sentences don't count.

Anyway, as the butler of the Wayne family, he has to protect his master's face, right?It is a serious dereliction of duty for the housekeeper to let the guests see his master lying in bed.

But in other words, as a housekeeper, he shouldn't be rude to the guests. If the guests insist on doing something that doesn't touch the principle, he can only persuade him with good words, and he must never do something that violates his identity. of.

Therefore, under Alfred's symbolic obstruction, Carl successfully rushed into Bruce's bedroom.

Alfred stood outside the door, knocked on the door solemnly, and asked for instructions: "May I come in, sir?"

Bruce, who covered his head in the quilt, said nothing.

So Alfred stood so straight at the door, watching as Carl first drew the curtains and opened the windows, allowing the damp and cold air outside the windows to enter the room, and then lifted Bruce's quilt.

"Please don't do this, Mr. Al, the master is going to bed too late and needs enough sleep," he said.

Carl turned a deaf ear, bent down and yelled in Bruce's ear, "Wake up Bruce! Wake up Brucey! Get up, get up! The sun's on your ass!"

"...Nonsense, there is no sun in Gotham." Bruce said in a daze.

When the quilt was forcibly lifted, he didn't reach out to touch it, but buried his head deeper in the pillow, and hugged the pillow tightly with both hands, as if he was afraid that the pillow would be snatched away.

His face was completely hidden in the fluffy pillow, and Carl could only see the black hair on Bruce's head that was messed up by his bad sleep.

"After I came to Gotham, I was the sun of Gotham." Carl said.

"Sorry, Mr. Al, I think you need to leave here. As a housekeeper, I have to..."

Carl put one hand on Bruce's back, and with the other he yanked the pillow out from under Bruce's arms.

Bruce, who was caught off guard by the pillow being pulled away, smashed his face into the sheet.

Alfred, who was standing at the door, was shocked by the development of the matter, and fell silent involuntarily.

"Wake up!" Carl yelled. "I'm mad! If you don't get up I'm going to be, uh, madder!"

Bruce curled up as if he didn't hear it, and showed with actions that he didn't care about other things. He just wanted to sleep, and no one could separate him from his bed. Carl stared at the back of Bruce's head for a while. Alfred coughed, and just wanted to persuade Carl to go downstairs and wait for his master to wake up naturally, when he saw Carl force Bruce out of bed.

He blurted out: "No—"

Do it Bruce.Wayne can hit people!

Let alone how to explain the fact that Bruce knows fighting skills, as the young master who declares that he loves extreme sports, it is not surprising that he has good physical fitness and has learned one or two tricks. Can recognize how superb Bruce's fighting skills are based on one or two movements.

The point of this matter is, what if Karl is beaten up by the master who is not clear-headed?

However, before he finished speaking, Bruce, who had just raised his upper body as if about to move, was held down by Karl with one hand, and Alfred's words were immediately stuck in his throat.

As if seeing his shocked expression, Carl turned his head and smiled at him: "Don't worry, Aff——Is it okay if I call you that? I heard Bruce call you that. I'm very strong and won't get hurt of."

The old butler took a look at Bruce who was struggling desperately on Carl's shoulder like a fish just caught, then took another look at Carl's pure and sweet smile and the hand that was holding his master tightly, and turned his head. Get out of the way so that Karl, who is carrying his master, can pass.

"I'm going to prepare refreshments for you, Mr. Al." He said quietly, then added after a pause, "As for the master's clothes...don't worry, I will prepare them for him when he wakes up. "

"It's very kind of you, Fu, just give me soda and dark chocolate, if not, please give me a cup of black tea with milk and no sugar."

And Afu's response was: "Please rest assured, Mr. Al, I have roughly understood your preferences."

Carl carried Bruce on his shoulders and went downstairs. He took a very bad step and bumped his feet. After walking less than a dozen steps, Bruce woke up, and his struggling movements were much more orderly.

"Put me down," he said in a sleepy voice, "Okay, I'm awake, Carl, put me down."

"Are you really awake Bruce? When I called you your answer was super organized, but the next second you fell asleep." Carl said, and he let go of Bruce's hand , but refused to put Bruce off his shoulders, "I'll let you go down the stairs later."

"Your shoulder is on my ribs," Bruce whispers, almost coaxing, "This really hurts—put me down, Carl, I promise I'm awake."

It's not like he didn't try to forcefully jump off Carl's shoulders, but God knows what about Carl, the hands on his back are harder than steel, and Bruce swears he's done everything he's ever learned Fighting techniques to get out of the hands of the enemy, but none of the techniques worked.

Carl's strength is astonishing.

It may be a little exaggerated to say so, but Bruce vaguely felt that Carl's strength had almost reached the point where it surpassed the limit of the human body.

After all, even if there is a stance in fighting called "Breaking Skills with Strength", there is also a stance called "Breaking Strength with Softness". He has trained on both of these points when traveling around the world, because this world is full of people with powerful characters. The existence of amazing physical fitness, he is particularly dedicated to "overcoming rigidity with softness".

And Karl's power...

Absolutely not normal.

Carl went all the way to the first floor before putting Bruce down. Bruce stepped on the wooden floor with bare feet, yawning tiredly while pulling up his pajamas.

"Don't you think it's weird to sleep in silk pajamas? Silk doesn't fit your body at all," Carl asked him. "What's the difference between wearing silk pajamas and sleeping naked? Why not just sleep naked?"

"Because if I slept naked, I would have to stand here and talk to you naked, not just barefoot." Bruce sighed, and took the lead to walk into the living room, "What the hell are you trying to do, Carl? I'm tired and I need to rest."

"It's almost twelve noon, Bruce!" Carl followed closely behind Bruce, "How long are you going to rest? Is it one o'clock in the afternoon?"

"Of course not, Mr. Al." Alfred said, who came back with the tray, "The master's schedule has always been mysterious. According to my experience, he never gets up at twelve noon. If you have not come, sir Get up at twelve o'clock and get to work."

"He still works?" Carl said in surprise, and he turned to Bruce, "You still work?"

"It's the master's job to attend parties." Alfred replied humorously.

He bent down, put the things Carl asked for on the table one by one, put tea for Bruce beside him, and left the living room with the plate, looking in the direction that he should go to get clothes for Bruce.

"What are you doing here? You didn't say anything in advance." Bruce sat down on the sofa.

"I'm very angry. It's too shameless to say it in advance."

Bruce was amused: "Are you angry? Why?"

"You adopted a son, but you didn't tell me!" Carl raised his voice. "Is it a trivial matter to adopt a child? Do you think it's enough to pick it up like a kitten and give it some food? Don't you?" Introduce him to your friends? What do you mean? Do you not value Dick, or do you not regard me as a friend? I only found out about this from the news!"

Carl tried to sound more aggressive, but limited by the bubbly sound, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make himself sound more intimidating.

But looking at Bruce's expression, he already understood his mistake.

It really didn't occur to Bruce that he needed to tell Carl about adopting Dick.

It's not that he doesn't regard Carl as a friend, but that he really has no experience in getting along with ordinary people, and he hasn't had much normal communication in these years.Although he tried his best to change his thinking mode after returning to Gotham City, his wandering life alone made him used to making up his own mind about everything.

Nor did Aff remind him to tell Carl.

"...I didn't disregard you as a friend, and I didn't disregard Dick." Bruce explained dryly, "But you know that adopting a child requires a lot of procedures, and I have to go through some procedures myself..."

Carl cut him off.

"You just can't just say 'Sorry, I was wrong,' can you?" he said, "Shall I teach you Bruce?"