[Comprehensive British and American] Distress signal receiver

From the corner of Wesley's corner of the eye, he saw that Dick's face was also very serious. Dick looked at Bruce nervously, as if he was always ready to prevent a murder that was about to happen here.

Gradually, Bruce's breathing became heavy. Rather than saying that he was looking at Wesley, it might be better to say that he was caught in some kind of memory.

Bruce has the top level of self-control. Not only can Wesley not get into his brain, but he can't even clearly sense his emotional fluctuations. But at this time, strong emotional changes are transmitted from Bruce, and it is obvious that the other party is no longer willing to control own emotions.

Dick, who got along day and night, knew Bruce best, and raised his hand slightly: "Calm down, Bruce."

Bruce's eyes were cold, and when he spoke, his voice was calm but hoarse: "Are you fooling me, Wesley Field?"

Dick is Batman's Robin, he won't lie to him, and Bruce can only trust his eyes, the young man standing in front of him is Cole.

Bruce thought he knew Wesley's background very well. He had participated in those past events, the erased Baltimore, and Wesley's new identity.

But the only thing he didn't know was that Wesley Field had another hidden, deeper and more "famous" identity - God of Luck.

"I don't, 'I'm not, listen to me!Wesley tried his best to avoid provoking the other party: "You know I won't treat you like this."

"Why now, why don't you continue to hide it? Could it be that the famous Wesley Field—now Wesley Stark, surrendered his identity and came to Gotham just to tell me this?" Bruce's eyes seemed to be Scary as a beast, he sneered: "Or do you want to see my reaction and let me know that the 'savior' really lives in the world?"

"No... Bruce," Dick quickly explained, "You don't know, SHIELD is looking for him..."

"Oh!" Bruce held back his anger and said softly: "SHIELD is looking for him, so please tell me why SHIELD is looking for him, but I don't know?"

Dick chokes, but he has nothing to say, he's the one hiding it from Bruce.

Wes wanted to take over the right to speak, but he didn't miss the patience that flashed on Bruce's face from time to time, as if he was bringing back his painful memories.

Only then did he know why Dick thought he should "communicate" with Bruce, because Bruce never seemed to get out of that memory.

What the hell is he thinking?

Wesley felt that if he missed the opportunity today, he might never be able to face Bruce, and he would never step into Gotham again.

Fortunately, the solution is also simple.

Wesley's eyes slowly turned golden, and the next second, he stared at Bruce. Bruce realized something, and a struggling look appeared on his face, but he was emotionally fluctuating, and he couldn't put away his thoughts immediately.

Unlike when doing tasks, Wesley needs to enter his mind. At this time, his ability is like a soft net bag, collecting his emotions on the edge of Bruce's consciousness, while probing into the depths——

The empty execution square covered with old bloodstains, the swaying figures of prison guards, the conflicting flames, and the severe pain of the body being hit by bullets. In the shaking sight, the blood-stained hands of the owner of the memory were removed from the wound, and the Under the hole, the gunshot wound disappeared.

"Bruce..." A weak voice rang in my ears, that voice was so young, all the surrounding noises were weakened, only this voice kept saying: "Bruce...Bruce..."

"I want to help you..."

"You need to remember..."

"leave here……"

"You're the key, Bruce Wayne."

It was clearly a memory from a few years ago, but the memory was as clear as if it happened yesterday. Everything was full of color, and it seemed that someone was constantly perfecting and recalling it, even clearer than Wesley's own memory.

Soon Wesley noticed that Bruce was consciously avoiding some disobedient fragmented images that popped up suddenly, even though he masochistically played back the last memory in the prison, it was all a fog he set up.

Just when Wesley was about to grab one of the fragments that Bruce didn't want to recall, there was a sudden roar in the bedroom, Bruce's eyes were bloodshot, and he strode forward.

"Stop!"

Dick realized that something must have happened in the short few seconds just now, because the actions of the two were still, but he did not expect that Bruce's reaction would be so great, and he was startled, and his footsteps were between Bruce and Wesley In the meantime, he raised his arm to stop him and said, "Don't! Bruce!"

He wasn't sure if Wesley could withstand the force of Bruce's fist.

"It's okay." An arm stretched out from behind Dick, gently pushing him aside, and Wesley also took a step forward: "He won't do anything to me."

The distance between Bruce and Wesley suddenly became closer, but sure enough, Bruce gritted his teeth tightly and never made a move.

"You can't do anything to me, can you?" Wesley said calmly.

Because both of them knew at this time that in Bruce's mind, he had already moved "dominos" thousands of times.

In front of Wesley, Bruce failed to hide his nightmare in the end. The clown's triumphant smile, Inspector Gordon's cry, the hot sun in the prison, and the young man who fell before his eyes in the middle of the night, these mixed memories were all forgotten. Another, more powerful and more terrifying picture took its place—

On the field, Bruce, who has just arrived and lost his memory, is beating a young man frantically.

He showed no mercy at all, and could even hear the sound of the opponent's bones breaking.

And when Bruce's fist stopped, he looked down at the unconscious young man indifferently, already instinctively knowing that the other party was seriously injured.

The assailant seemed to feel a bit of struggling pain in his heart, but more, it was the pleasure of revenge. He felt that the things that had been restraining him had disappeared, although he didn't know what it was at the time.

In the bottom of Bruce's heart, Domino had indeed died once, and this execution was carried out by him, by Bruce Wayne himself.He didn't care what crime the young man had committed or what his past was, he just felt like the beast inside him had finally been unleashed.

In reality, Bruce's face was terribly gloomy. Dick immediately felt that he could no longer listen to Wesley, and stood between the two of them again, pushed them away, and said to Bruce, "Okay, you really need to calm down."

"You're not wrong, Bruce." At this moment, Wesley said suddenly: "Domino is indeed dead, but it's not because of you. Don't you wonder why the prison guard didn't treat him after you wounded him? Domino is a death row inmate. Even without you, he will be executed soon. And he knows it himself, let me show you..."

Wesley never thought that this mission would have such a follow-up, and if it wasn't for today, he wouldn't know that Bruce would wake up from nightmares almost every day.

Even that night, Wesley put back the heavy chains that belonged to Batman, but Bruce's heart was shaken after all.

Wesley still decided to tell the other party the truth.

It's just that the super brain is not turned on. Some parts of Wesley's memory back then are not clear, but the system is different. The system stores all mission records.

In the next second, Bruce opened his eyes wide, and a strange and clear picture that was so immersive suddenly appeared in his mind——

From the first perspective, he woke up from the stuffy confinement room. There was untouched food on the ground. His body pain was close to numbness, and he was so hungry that he went crazy.

When Bruce heard Wesley's voice, it almost sounded softly in his mind: "Although Domino is seriously injured, he won't lose his ability to move immediately, but he hasn't eaten a bite for several days. You know what that means, He resisted living."

"You have your bottom line, Bruce, and I have mine. I can't save the wicked, but if it's an innocent person, even if he will die in the next second, I can save him... This is the truth, it's me who uses my ability The conditions... I'm sorry to tell you now."

Turning the memory in his mind, Bruce saw his own face.

It was still the execution ground, Domino had already fallen to the ground, and the self from a few years ago was beside him.

Oddly enough, along with this memory, Bruce felt a burst of emotion that wasn't his own, one that felt engaged, calm, and even positively anticipating.

The "Domino", who was shot and was on the verge of death, endured brand-new severe pain, and said to himself in memory: "...you know...why Detective Gordon chose to save you...the world still needs you..."

The picture ends, but the strong, positive emotion still surrounds Bruce, and he sees Dick and Wesley standing in front of him again.

Wesley's golden pupils returned to normal, and he said: "I used my ability on you, and your gunshot wound healed, which means you are innocent - Domino didn't die because of you, and you don't have to punish yourself like this, after all, Bruce , everyone has sinful thoughts, but your thoughts are only temporary, and what you do is ultimately who you are.”

While saying these words, Wesley used his fifth-level telepathy to such a detailed level for the first time. He penetrated into Bruce's broken and painful heart. Almost all the past memories of the other party were related to trauma. Among them, he Quietly planted his own perception of Bruce when he became Domino.

Wesley thought sadly that when he came to Wayne Manor by himself, he had to work part-time as a psychiatrist, and he was short of saying that you are the best...

"The clown will catch your weakness, Bruce," Wesley said finally: "Don't waver at any time."

Bruce frowned, and sat on the sofa exhausted as if he had just finished a marathon.

Dick heaved a sigh of relief, and Bruce said hoarsely: "Although you said that there is more than one clown in the world, the real clown is gone. I didn't expect God of Luck to be uninformed."

Wesley: "..."

what? !!

-

Wesley was sitting on the roundabout in the center of Gotham, the warm sunlight shone through the clean glass of the coffee shop on his lowered hat brim. A computer was turned on in front of Wesley, and he was concentrating on the screen.

Suddenly, a second shadow besides myself appeared in the reflection on the computer screen, standing right behind him.

Wesley sat up a little straighter, and the familiar voice sounded a little awkwardly:

"Hi...Wesley, am I late?"

Wesley blinked slowly, turned around, and couldn't help showing a smile:

"Hi, Peter."