Chapter 19: I Join the Bat Family

Chapter 19: I Join the Bat Family

The son of Batman, the fifth Robin—Damian Wayne.

That arrogant gaze, full of disdain for the mundane, merely swept over Allen.

With a father who is Batman, a mother who holds a core position in the League of Assassins, and a grandfather who is the Demon's Head, Damian has wealth, power, and influence at his fingertips. He indeed has the capital to look down on everything.

Bruce hesitated, unsure how to introduce Allen's identity—after all, Allen was once a member of the League of Assassins.

"Damian, I'm your dad."

True to his nature, Allen wasn't about to let a brat act smug in front of him.

"What?"

Damian's fury erupted. "I'll give you one chance to apologize."

Perhaps because he grew up in the League of Assassins, Damian's worldview in his youth was extremely radical. If Bruce hadn't been keeping an eye on him, Gotham's criminals might have all been wiped out by now.

And if they were all dead, wouldn't Batman be out of a job?

Besides, Bruce would never bear to let his "beloved enemy," the Joker, die.

"If you don't believe me, you can ask Talia if we've ever had a heart-to-heart moment," Allen said with a sly smile.

That night, Allen had gone absolutely wild—stripping the sisters of their clothes, putting them on himself, and then singing and dancing the whole night. It was beyond exhilarating.

"How dare you insult my mother!"

In Damian's heart, Talia held the highest position, and his rage exploded as he launched an attack.

"Damian, calm down."

But at this moment, Bruce's words were nothing more than background noise.

Ignoring everything, Damian threw a punch at Allen, determined to teach this foul-mouthed man a lesson.

"Damian, if you refuse to acknowledge me, there's no need for father and son to fight."

Allen effortlessly dodged while continuing to taunt him with that infuriating smirk.

Provoked by his words, Damian completely lost his composure.

Watching from the sidelines, Bruce knew his son wouldn't listen to reason. Instead of intervening, he decided to let Damian take a loss—perhaps it would teach him a lesson and temper his reckless nature.

As for whether Damian was truly related to him, there was no doubt.

Even setting aside genetic testing, Allen's disappearance simply didn't align with Talia's pregnancy timeline—there was at least a year and a half of discrepancy.

Thud.

Damian was sent sprawling.

With superior speed, Allen easily tripped him and taunted, "Who the hell taught you that pathetic excuse for martial arts? You didn't even touch my clothes."

Unwilling to accept defeat, Damian got up and charged again, fully embodying the saying: "A fool persists until he crashes headfirst into a wall."

"Master Wayne, who is he?"

One after another, figures landed on the rooftop.

Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Batgirl—several pairs of eyes focused on Allen toying with Damian.

"Well, well, Bruce! You've secretly assembled a Bat Family!"

Allen excitedly declared, "I, Batman II, want to join in too! Or maybe I can join as Whip-man!"

The Bat Family!

Bruce found the name surprisingly fitting and immediately adopted it.

"You're welcome to join—if you can pass their test."

Bruce shot a glance at his proteges, signaling them to attack Allen together.

In an instant, five figures encircled Allen, while Bruce remained on the sidelines, observing.

Allen immediately protested, "Three against five? Ganging up on me, huh?"

"Aren't you alone?" Batgirl asked in confusion.

Allen raised both hands. "My left hand is my ex-girlfriend, my right hand is my current girlfriend."

"Attack!"

By now, even the slowest among them realized this guy was completely unhinged.

The five members of the Bat Family launched a simultaneous assault—an attack that even Bruce would have to avoid.

Bang! Smack! Thud! Argh! Ugh!

In mere moments, the supposedly fearsome Bat Family, the nightmare of Gotham's criminals, was sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain.

"I didn't even use any real strength, and you all went down?" Allen smirked. "This wasn't even a challenge."

Bruce's expression darkened.

He had expected Allen to struggle at least a little—not wipe the floor with them so effortlessly.

Frankly, if Batman weren't the protagonist in the comics, he'd have died a hundred times over. The idea of him going toe-to-toe with Superman was pure fantasy.

With his level 120 Rogue stats, Allen didn't even need to use skills to deal with a bunch of mere mortals.

"I want to test your skills myself."

Bruce got into a serious stance, determined to gauge Allen's strength.

"Fine, since I adore you so much."

Allen dropped his usual mischievous demeanor and unsheathed his sword.

Seeing this, the five fallen proteges held their breath, eagerly watching their revered mentor take on Allen.

In a flash, the two figures clashed in the darkness.

For a moment, everything was silent, awaiting the outcome.

One move. That's all it took.

"Father… your ears!" Damian exclaimed in shock.

"Ears?"

Bruce reached up in confusion to touch the bat ears on his cowl—only to find them gone.

His fingers passed through two holes, straight to his scalp.

Hiss…

His cowl was made of highly advanced composite materials, capable of withstanding close-range rifle shots. Each one cost a hefty $100,000 to produce.

If that sword had gone just a little lower… and struck his neck…

Bruce shuddered at the thought, feeling an icy chill around his throat.

"Ta-da! I've got your ears right here."

Allen turned around, flashing a triumphant peace sign—with Batman's "ears" looped around his fingers.

The outcome was clear.

The Bat Family had suffered a total defeat.

"So, Bats, are we on the same team now?"

"Yes."

Bruce had no reason to refuse—Allen had won fair and square.

Besides, having such a powerful ally was nothing but a win-win situation.

Tonight's crime-fighting patrol was canceled.

With his sidekicks injured and his own bat-ears missing, Bruce couldn't afford to let Gotham's criminals see him like this—it would be an unforgettable embarrassment.

But Allen wasn't done messing around. He walked over to Damian and asked, "Want to learn some real skills? Call me 'Dad,' and I'll teach you."

Damian rolled his eyes and turned away, silently cursing his own weakness. If only he were stronger, he'd have punched Allen in the face by now.

"I don't have much on me, so here's a little gift."

Allen handed Damian a paper-wrapped hamburger.

Looking into Allen's sincere eyes, Damian had a feeling that refusing would only make things worse.

Besides, he had never eaten a hamburger before. Unlike his father, who only lectured him, Allen's actions—even if absurd—gave him a taste of something resembling fatherly care.

From the moment he could remember, his life had been nothing but training and studying.

With a stubborn expression, yet a softened heart, Damian took the burger, unwrapped it, and took a big bite.

He didn't want to admit it, but—it was delicious.

"Not bad, right?"

Allen grinned widely. "I got it from the Wayne Avenue charity food station. To keep it warm since noon, I held it under my armpit the whole time."

Charity food!?

Since noon!?

Under his armpit for warmth!?

Blerrghh…

Damian doubled over, vomiting in spectacular rainbow-colored arcs.

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