KyokaSuigetsu
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Chapter 79 – Paid House Arrest
🕑 Added 2025-05-07 11:15:02 +0000 UTCLeo woke from his dream the next morning.
The fleeting image of V fading away left a hollow ache in his chest.
Once fully conscious, he didn't open his eyes immediately. Instead, he checked his cross-world countdown—
[6 days, 11:05:01]
Six and a half more days in Gotham...
He wanted to die.
After a bit more time loafing in bed, he finally got up, washed, styled his hair, and dived straight into the glorious digital menu system.
Birds in the sky, beasts on land, fish in the sea—
Short of endangered species, nearly every edible ingredient was on Wayne Tower's breakfast offerings.
If Gotham had one redeeming feature, it was the incredible food—and most importantly, it was all natural.
"Mmm… braised pork belly is too heavy for breakfast. Let's go with fried chicken. With honey mustard. Even Saburo Arasaka never had it this good!"
Honey had become extinct in his time.
The last jar of honey ever harvested from a real hive was estimated at €300,000.
That's right—three hundred thousand euros.
Leo decided he'd take a few big bottles of honey home with him. Let his crew taste the legendary "liquid gold."
As for selling it? That depended. He wasn't sure if it'd be more trouble than it was worth—explaining its origin alone would be a nightmare.
Still… even if he only got ten grand per bottle, three of them could pay V's salary to serve tea for a month. Not bad!
Breakfast settled, he leaned back on the leather sofa, admiring the elegant decor. Even without an eye for art, he could tell the oil paintings on the walls were worth a fortune.
Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.
He sprang up, ready for his fried chicken feast—but unfortunately, it wasn't the old butler at the door.
It was a very grumpy-looking Bruce Wayne.
And no, he wasn't here to deliver fried chicken…
"I'm the injured one and I still got up at 8. You? You slept until 9:30?"
"It's 9. I have decision fatigue. Takes me forever to pick what to eat."
Leo replied deadpan, already sure that Bruce showing up first thing in the morning meant nothing good.
Sure enough—he was right.
"Hold off on breakfast. Perfect timing—you're on an empty stomach. Go get a full physical. Leslie's waiting in the infirmary. Let's go."
He stepped aside, wearing the classic "if you don't move, I'll make you move" Batman face.
Leo rolled his eyes. What else could he do?
As the two rode the elevator, Leo made small talk:
"Why do you call her Leslie straight-up? At her age, shouldn't we be calling her 'Aunt' or 'Granny' or something?"
Bruce looked like he was recalling a deeply repressed memory. His mouth tugged slightly downward.
After a pause, he replied quietly:
"If you don't have the guts to call every older woman 'Big Sis,' then just use their name. Or call them 'ma'am.' The words you mentioned? They're like insults to some of them."
Leo had an epiphany.
"Gotham's top playboy really does understand women."
Bruce ignored him, maintaining his icy aloofness.
Leo almost brought up Rachel, but thought better of it—Bruce might cancel his business order out of spite. Best to keep that ace hidden… for now.
He was curious though—
If Harvey hadn't become Two-Face and was still Gotham's "White Knight," just who would've ended up wearing the green hat Rachel handed out?
Even just knowing that answer was enough to motivate him to help Harvey out.
One more hero, one less supervillain—
That's good for business in Gotham.
His musings were cut short by the elevator ding.
Bruce led him to a corner room: the infirmary.
Dr. Leslie Thompkins was already prepped and ready, adjusting the medical devices.
Remembering Bruce's earlier "advice," Leo raised a hand cheerily:
"Morning, Leslie-sis!"
He said it loud—so loud it startled Leslie mid-task.
The white-haired, sharp-eyed, and still totally badass doctor glared daggers at Bruce.
"It's nearly noon. Good thing you haven't eaten yet. Also—call me Leslie or Doctor Thompkins. 'Sis' is ridiculous, and don't even try 'Granny.'"
Leo nodded obediently.
She had a vibe. She was seriously cool.
After some light chatter, the full-body checkup began.
It started with the basics: vitals, internal and external exams, ENT checks—easy stuff.
He was still in good spirits…
Until they took his blood and Leslie handed him two very familiar medical containers.
One was a blue-capped test tube.
The other—a small white plastic cup with a lid.
"Urinalysis and stool sample. Restroom's that way. Go get them yourself."
"…Huh?!" Leo gaped. Even Old Vik never did this to him. "Is that really necessary?"
From the sidelines, his ever-watchful babysitter spoke up.
"It is. You're not from this world. I have to make sure you're not carrying a supervirus, superbug, or dangerous parasite. Your existence alone might be a threat to the human species—or even the entire ecosystem."
In that moment, Leo almost felt guilty.
Almost.
But then he rolled his eyes and snapped:
"If I were that dangerous, the virus would've already spread. Don't forget—I rode in your car!"
Bruce nodded thoughtfully.
"You're right. I overlooked the possibility that you might be an alien or extradimensional being. Next time, I'll establish an on-site quarantine cell and isolate all unknowns immediately."
Leo stared at him.
No. Not Bruce.
This was Batman now—clearly unhinged and borderline feral.
Well, someone planted the tree, and now he was stuck standing in the shade.
To the future unlucky sods who end up here: blame Batman, not me!
Grumbling internally, Leo dragged himself to the restroom.
The look in Bruce's eyes left no doubt:
If he didn't comply, Batman might just forcefully extract the samples himself.
A few minutes later, samples handed over.
Half an hour passed, and Leo's physical report came in fresh off the printer.
"Healthy. Healthier than most people I've examined, actually. Nothing suspicious detected. Frankly, you seem 100% human."
Leslie reviewed the report with a casual tone.
Leo sighed.
"Doc, drop the 'frankly'—I am human. What, you think I'm an alien?"
"Hard to say. I'll run a genetic test next, see if your DNA's human-compatible."
"Whatever. Go wild…"
Leslie gave a faint smile.
"Don't be so nervous. Just think of it as a routine checkup. Hmm… your report shows slight inflammation, and both your neutrophils and white blood cell counts are low. Been on anti-inflammatories lately?"
Leo blinked, then nodded cautiously.
Old Vik had prescribed them—he'd been taking them daily, like clockwork.
"Let me see the meds."
Bruce held out his hand—like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Leo was done.
With a completely deadpan face, he pulled out the bottle Old Vik gave him, aimed square at Batman's smug mug, and threw it with full force.
The pill bottle sliced through the air like a bullet.
Unfortunately, Bruce's reflexes were inhuman—he casually caught it mid-flight with a flick of his wrist.
Thus ended their first "official" confrontation—
A tie.
