Wayne Manor.
Bruce stood at the door, hesitating to enter.
After a final glance at Peter, who stood behind him, looking at him with encouraging eyes, he nervously pressed the doorbell.
After the doorbell rang, Alfred pushed open the door and walked out of the room.
Seeing Bruce standing outside the door, their eyes met, and Alfred, with a hint of surprise in his eyes, quickly walked forward, "Bruce!"
Bruce looked at Alfred, feeling a bit lost.
He knew there might be another Bruce in the Manor now and wasn't sure if the butler would recognize him.
Before Bruce could finish his thoughts, Alfred, with an emotional expression, grasped his hand, "This is wonderful, Master Bruce, you've finally returned."
Bruce stared blankly at his butler and stammered, "Alfred, did you know about the fake Bruce?"
"Yes, I knew. Although he disguised himself to be very much like you, he would eventually reveal himself. That call from Metropolis earlier, was it from you, Master Bruce?"
"Yes."
Bruce held the butler's hand, feeling the long-lost familiar warmth, and complex emotions surged within him.
After a moment, he looked up and asked, "Where is that fake Bruce now, Alfred?"
"He has already run away."
Alfred said with some regret.
After a few words about the fake Bruce, he asked Bruce about his experiences these past few days.
"Mr. Patrick sent me..."
Bruce said, pointing his finger to where Peter had been, only to find that the other party had vanished.
The spot where Peter had been standing was empty.
Delicate, fragile pine needles whispered in the wind, and the dark tree shadows swayed, as if Peter would emerge from the shadows and greet them the next second.
But Bruce knew that Peter might never come out of that shadow.
"I..."
He took a deep breath and said to Alfred, "I've been in Metropolis these past few days. I met a gentleman; he has been taking care of me."
Alfred asked curiously, "Who?"
"Mr. Peter Patrick."
Bruce suddenly asked the butler with a relaxed expression, "Alfred, I remember there's a suit, a cold-weather suit I custom-ordered one Christmas, made of space material, with a small golden plate on the chest. Perhaps... perhaps it can be modified, change the golden plate into a bat symbol."
Alfred looked at him, puzzled, "That suit is indeed still here, Master. What do you want to do with it?"
"I... I want to become the fear in the night, like Mr. Patrick."
Bruce looked out at the street, "The unrest outside hasn't stopped yet, Alfred. We can do our part to prevent those terrible things from happening."
"You'll support me, right?"
Alfred stared blankly at Bruce. For a moment, he suddenly felt that Master had grown up.
He nodded, "Of course, Master."
The next day.
As the wildfire was gradually extinguished, Smallville's fire alert was also lifted.
Peter and Jonathan's family drove back to the farm.
Patrick Farm.
"Life is like rolling dice."
Mark suddenly uttered a sentiment.
Clark, who was helping to organize farm tools, didn't react for a moment and looked at him in confusion.
"Are you tired, John?"
"No, I just didn't expect us to come back so quickly, and that the farm wasn't burned down by the wildfire."
Mark put the pitchfork aside and said cheerfully, "When I come of age, I'll be able to inherit my father's farm smoothly."
"Don't you want to go to college?"
Clark asked doubtfully.
"No, I don't."
"But Godfather said we would all go to college."
Mark disagreed, "Bruce didn't go to school."
"He's special."
"Special? He's just richer. If it weren't for Father, he would have been abducted and sold by those human traffickers long ago."
Clark was curious about the conflict between Mark and Bruce, "Do you hate Bruce, John?"
"Yes, and I believe he hates me too."
Mark said nonchalantly, "He's probably secretly planning how to deal with me, or figuring out what use my skull might serve in the future. A skull candy dish would be nice, or a lamp."
Clark was stunned by Mark's outrageous statement.
What horror movies had Mark watched recently, to even think of making a skull candy dish out of a brain!
Mark didn't notice Clark's expression and continued:
"Have you seen Mexico's Day of the Dead, Clark? Those altars decorated in various colors—bananas, bread of the dead, marigolds, mangoes, red ribbons, yellow ribbons."
"But what impressed me the most were those unique skull candies: skulls made of hard royal icing, symbolizing Death, adorned with various candies to form eyes and mouths. They must taste delicious; I need to ask Father to buy me some."
Clark was stunned by the horrifying scene of the Day of the Dead described by Mark.
Worried, he felt he had to tell Godfather about Mark's obsession with the skull candies of Mexico's Day of the Dead.
In the evening.
Peter was on the phone with Martian Manhunter in the living room.
Martian Manhunter had not returned to Smallville yet but continued to stay in Metropolis, creating an orphanage according to Peter's instructions.
The homeless children in Metropolis who had helped Bruce, and Fire, who had escaped from the Owl's laboratory, were all placed in the orphanage according to Peter's plan.
He hadn't suddenly become kind-hearted but was considering future arrangements.
Fire, whose memories were sealed by Martian Manhunter and who had returned to being a normal person, was a safeguard he had set up, who might be useful somewhere in the future.
After hanging up the phone, the doorbell rang outside the door.
Peter opened the door and found a FedEx delivery man standing outside.
"Mr. Patrick?"
"Yes."
"Here's a package for you; please sign for it."
Surprised, Peter took the package from the delivery man and went upstairs to open it.
The package was sent from Gotham. Besides a check for twenty thousand U.S. dollars, there was also a transfer of ownership document for a bar in Metropolis, with his name written in the holder section.
"That was quick."
After complaining about Bruce's quick actions, Peter prepared to put the package away, but he didn't expect there to be something else inside.
With a "clunk," a simple and elegant watch with a gleaming case fell out.
Peter picked up the watch and stared at the intricate patterns on it.
He hadn't expected Bruce to still insist on giving him the watch.
Shaking his head, he looked at the system watch already on his wrist.
Unfortunately, the watch given to him by the system could not be taken off.
So, the watch Bruce gave him could only be kept as a collection for now.
He extended his arm and looked at the hands of the system watch on his wrist.
The hands slowly moved forward, almost reaching the end.
Did this mean the second infant was about to arrive?
He stood up in thought, looking up at the darkening sky outside the window.