KyokaSuigetsu
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Chapter 75 – Taint by Proximity, Shadowed by the Bat!
🕑 Added 2025-05-07 11:13:34 +0000 UTCDing—
The elevator doors opened with a swift chime.
Right at the exit was a hospital-style wheeled medical bed, and standing next to it was a gray-haired female doctor.
Leo studied her features closely. Combined with her medical identity, he quickly figured out who she was.
Leslie Thompkins.
To many, she was practically Batman's foster mother—one of the most important people in his life alongside Alfred.
There was no doubt—this was Bruce Wayne's personal physician. She knew his true identity and could be trusted without question.
As soon as she saw Bruce, drenched in cold sweat, a grave expression surfaced on her face.
"Sweetheart, it's been a while since you've come back this battered. Onto the bed. I'll take you to the infirmary."
Bruce, for once, obediently complied and lay down without complaint.
Leo hesitated, then stepped forward to help push the bed.
Cue Batman's classic disapproving glare—
But before he could act, Leslie cut him off.
"Bruce, I'm not in my thirties anymore."
Looking at the white streaks in her hair, Bruce fell silent.
"Thank you for your help, young man. Come with me."
"Call me Leo. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise. Alfred has mentioned you. I'm Leslie Thompkins. Let's chat more when there's time."
Together, the two of them wheeled Bruce toward a private infirmary tucked into a corner.
Once she learned Leo had no medical or nursing skills, Leslie politely showed him the door.
Leo was more than happy to comply—after all, Batman had already murdered him with his eyes multiple times tonight.
Once outside the infirmary, Leo began casually wandering around the top floor—Batman's private domain.
He knew he was supposed to go to the lounge, but he couldn't pass up a chance to explore this secretive stronghold.
He toured the training area, the lounge, the terrace, and the sitting room—each corner dripping with opulence, the kind that screamed old money.
Honestly, he could probably pawn off any one of the paintings here for a fortune…
If only there weren't so many damn cameras.
He activated his ocular scanner—instantly, a web of hidden surveillance devices lit up like a Christmas tree. Under tables, above ceilings, deep in corners—everywhere.
You'd think this was a military command center.
He even discovered the communications room, operations center, and research lab, but gave them a wide berth.
Batman was paranoid enough to track him even while being treated.
Ten minutes later, Alfred emerged from the elevator, visibly exhausted.
Clearly, handling the aftermath of the charity event had worn the old man down.
Seeing Leo, he gave a graceful bow and thanked him politely:
"Thank you for helping Master Wayne, Mr. Leo. Please allow me to check on him first, then I'll assist you."
Without waiting for a reply, the elderly butler made haste toward the infirmary.
Leo returned to the sitting room and flopped onto a leather sofa, fully soaking in the luxury of wealth.
A few minutes later, Alfred returned—relieved and visibly more relaxed. In his hands was a tray holding several drinks.
"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I brought a little of everything."
"Just plain water, thanks."
Alfred handed him a sealed bottle of premium mineral water, then asked if he needed anything else.
Leo thought for a moment, then pointed toward the terrace.
"Mind if I use your terrace?"
"Of course not."
"Ahem. Then I'll be direct—I'm starving. Could I trouble you for a tomahawk steak, medium-rare? Fruit salad on the side, and a large iced cola?"
"Certainly. I'll arrange it right away."
The request was a little unexpected, but Alfred accepted it with ease.
To him, someone willing to eat your food was already showing a form of trust—and that was something Master Wayne rarely did.
Leo headed out to the terrace and basked in Gotham's night breeze.
Truth be told, this was a much better environment than Night City.
No pungent chemical stink in the air, and you could even glimpse starlight through the clouds.
V used to love staring out the window like this.
She would've liked it here.
Just as he was drifting into nostalgia, a mouthwatering aroma interrupted his thoughts.
Meat.
100% real meat.
Dripping blood. Juicy.
Forget those synthetic chunks from slaughterhouses—this was the real deal!
Leo entered full-on glutton mode and devoured the massive tomahawk steak in one sitting.
Watching him eat like a starving beast, Alfred's eyes glinted with subtle intrigue.
Once fed and content, Leo kicked back in a deck chair, savoring the good life.
Alfred sat nearby—perhaps fulfilling a Batman-assigned task, or simply doing his butlerly duty to entertain guests.
"Master Wayne doesn't need surgery. He should be out in an hour or two. He asked that you wait here. Once he speaks with you, I'll arrange your accommodations."
"No problem—as long as there's no rent and no cameras in the room, I'll wait all you want."
"I'm afraid that last part might be… difficult."
"Haha!"
Alfred had a great sense of humor and knew how to respect boundaries.
He didn't pry, didn't press. He was a fantastic conversation partner.
Leo felt no pressure talking to him—it was like chatting with a warm, wise uncle.
As the night grew darker, Alfred guided Leo back inside to escape the cold breeze.
Before long, Bruce returned.
Now clad in a loose robe, he moved with slow but composed steps. His expression was calm and unreadable.
From his gait and micro-expressions, Leo could tell: the drugs had kicked in, and his condition had improved significantly.
Bruce sat across from Leo and sipped from a bottle of mineral water.
"The medicine you provided worked well—far more effective than anything on the market. Judging by the names and descriptions, it's still Earth-made… but from a future Earth."
"So… who exactly are you?
A time traveler sent to the past in a chronoshuttle?"
Boom.
Just like that, Batman nuked the casual atmosphere Leo had built with Alfred. Conversation? Over.
Leo's smile faded as he pondered the deeper meaning behind those words.
That Bruce guessed he was from the future wasn't surprising—his gadgets were all high-tech, Earth-manufactured.
There were too many clues to erase.
But the fact he didn't bring up the Flash suggested something else:
Bruce didn't know the Flash yet.
Which meant… the Justice League hadn't been formed.
The two stared each other down, each trying to read the other's expression.
After a while, Leo twitched—damn, spending time around Batman was making him paranoid too.
"Fine, let's go with that…
Or maybe—should I just make up a better story for you?"
