Martin Variety in American Comics.

Chapter 151 I, Martin, don’t have the constitution to cause trouble (please subscribe to read the monthly ticket!)
Bruce drove to the street where Martin's house was.

It was still early, just dawn, and even on the streets of Gotham there were not many people moving around, everyone was sleeping.

Bruce didn't wear bat armor or drive a Batmobile. He just picked up a car from the manor garage as a means of transportation.

This sports car has smooth lines and is silver and exquisitely made. It is not cheap. Most importantly, the engine of the sports car is very powerful. Once it starts, the engine makes a buzzing sound.

"Fuck, this is not going to stop, is it? You keep doing this every night, and I can't let anyone sleep!"

This is us Gotham people. We never hold grudges overnight, because we just twist off the person’s head and kick it like a ball that day.

Bruce slammed on the brakes, but it was too late.

The quiet street was filled with curses. People who were woken up grabbed whatever they could find and threw it onto the street without saying a word, all onto the sports car.

"Damn you, I'll shoot you bastards who are disturbing the people sooner or later!"

No matter how strong Bruce is, he can't say anything in the face of public anger, especially since this matter is entirely his fault.

Facing countless insults and garbage, he carefully got out of the sports car, leaned against the wall, and moved step by step to the door of Martin's house.

Boom boom boom!
Bruce knocked gently on the door and waited for Martin to respond.

He looked at the unrecognizable sports car and felt nothing. This thing was a gift given to him by the car manufacturers. There were a lot of them in the garage. If he smashed this one, he could just get another one.

After a while, there was no response from the house, so he pressed the doorbell again and sighed heavily.

This was his fifth visit to Martin. Over the past five days, he had knocked on Martin's door every morning, hoping that this friend, who was almost twenty years younger than him, could help him.

But every day he returned in vain, and there was no news from Martin.

Where will Martin go?

This is a question that always lingers in Bruce's mind. The longer the time goes, the more eager he is to get a result.

The doorbell was rang again and again, but there was no response from inside the house.

"We're going to return empty-handed again today!"

Bruce sighed and was about to leave when the door suddenly opened.

After all the trouble, there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Bruce was surprised and relieved.

But before he could let out a breath, he took a deep breath and stared at Martin who was standing at the door with wide eyes.

"Why did you suddenly shrink in size?"

Bruce gestured, Martin was now not even as tall as his legs, and the pajamas he was wearing were dragging on the ground.

Martin rubbed his eyes with the sleeves that covered his hands, yawned, looked down at his appearance, and shook his head: "This is what I looked like when I was seven years old. There is nothing surprising."

He rolled up his sleeves and beckoned Bruce in: "Please take a seat first. I'll change my clothes and come out soon."

Martin spoke weakly. The experience of transforming into an Extreme Warrior really drained too much of his energy.

Thinking of the Ultramarines, he reminded Bruce before entering the bedroom, "There is a document on the tablet on the table in the living room. It's about outer space. You can take a look at it first."

Outer space!
Bruce's eyes suddenly lit up.

Martin quickly finished washing his face, brushing his teeth and washing his hair, then opened the wardrobe, which was filled with clothes he wore when he was seven years old.

"It was such a carefree time! Although there were many people I disliked, I also had many friends around me."

Martin changed his clothes and walked out of the bedroom, muttering to himself.

Bruce was absorbed in reading the information. It was obvious that everything about Al Star fascinated this most powerful capitalist on earth.

Martin didn't disturb him, but went into the kitchen and started preparing breakfast.

"My breakfast doesn't need to be too rich. A glass of milk, an egg, and a ham sandwich are enough!"

Martin gave Bruce the middle finger in the kitchen connected to the living and dining room.

"Brother, you need to understand that I am only seven years old. You are a 40-year-old adult. Not only do you not help, but you also order food? How shameless of you!"

"It's give and take. You cook for me in the morning, and I cook for you in the evening."

Bruce waved to Martin while reading the information.

"You bastard who exploits children!" Martin rolled his eyes and picked up an apple and threw it directly at him. "Thanks!"

Bruce caught the apple, took a bite, and smiled proudly.

Still, the serious Bruce is more pleasing to the eye!
Martin muttered to himself, and casually made a few sandwiches and two glasses of milk, put them on the table, and said sarcastically:

"Uncle Wayne, please lift up your noble butt and serve the food."

You should be grateful for what you receive from others, and be soft-hearted when you take things from others.

"coming!"

Bruce didn't dare to act like a big shot in front of Martin. He quickly ran to the kitchen, twitched his nose, and gave a thumbs up: "It tastes really good!"

"Thank you, little Martin."

Bruce reached out and patted Martin on the head, laughing.

"Fuck off!"

Martin slapped Batman's hand away and said helplessly, "Why are you becoming more and more indecent? Do Dick and Barbara know that you are like this now?"

"You told me to enjoy life and gradually become more like a normal person."

"I regret!"

Martin and Bruce sat down at the dining table, arguing with each other.

Bruce took a big bite of his sandwich and asked curiously, "Space agencies of various countries have spent so much effort but have not been able to get any useful information from the universe. If they see the information you have, they will definitely go crazy."

"There's no point in going crazy. With Earth's current technology, it will take thousands of years to fly to Al Planet!"

Martin obtained this information for superheroes like Bruce to see.

For a long time to come, only the superheroes gathered under the banner of the Justice League will be qualified to step onto the big stage of the universe.

Bruce waved his hand: "But we have your Superman friend! I met him five days ago and he expressed his willingness to show me Krypton's technology."

Martin shook his head and said, "She came to Earth alone and helpless, which is pitiful enough. Not only do you not care about her, but you also deceive her."

Bruce did not refute, but emphasized: "I don't mean to hurt him."

"Fine!"

Martin waved his hand and said, "I'm right here. You already know where I've been for the past few days. Your curiosity has been satisfied. Eat your food and get out of here!"

He had long seen through the old bat's thoughts.

"You still understand me."

Bruce did not deny his intention, but he had no intention of leaving: "I need your help with something. Recently, a killer who specializes in killing people at rich people's banquets has appeared in Gotham. Please help me find him."

"I'm not a detective."

Martin refused outright. He finally had a chance to rest today and he didn't want to waste his time on Bruce.

"But you have a physique that invites accidents. As long as you are here, that party killer will definitely show up at my party."

"Haha, just based on what you said, I won't go either."

Martin took away everything without waiting for Bruce to finish eating.

"No, since you think you don't have such ability, you should prove yourself!"

"Besides, Dick and Barbara both want to see you."

Martin walked out of the kitchen and looked at Bruce's questioning eyes, "Hey, I have a bad temper. Today I will show you that I, Martin, do not have the physique to cause trouble."

After saying that, he pulled Bruce away from his house.

As soon as I walked out of the house, gunshots were heard from the apartment across the street.

You ride a horse!
Martin felt his face snap.

　First update! It’s easier to write about happy things. I won’t write about bitterness or hatred anymore.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)