American comic book: After mastering resurrection, I became incredibly popular.

“Mr. Joshua, Mr. Wang is right. Dick’s matter can be handled by professionals.” His tone was very kind. “You agree, Mr. Wang?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" Wang Baixi nodded with a smile, but then he realized something was wrong.

Looking into Alfred's eyes, Wang Baixi couldn't help but purse his lips. "So, you're going to find the 'Oracle' now?"

“Yes,” Tim said, demonstrating his judgment in this leaderless situation despite being only in high school. “And, Mr. Wang, it’s not ‘you,’ it’s ‘we.’”

"Me too?"

"Yes, you're going too!"

……

Wang Baixi still came.

He came because Alfred had given him a credit card.

Tim insisted on having him come because Alfred and Joshua needed to handle company business, and he needed someone to drive him.

Yes, he's a law-abiding kid. Wang Baixi thought to himself: Then you can see my driving skills.

They soon arrived at their destination. The clock tower was located in the heart of Gotham's old town, the kind of old building you'd pass by a hundred times without even glancing at. Wang Baixi parked the car in an alley, turned off the engine, and Tim took out his tablet from his pocket and swiped it a few times. A metal gate on the side of the clock tower slid open silently.

“Stay close to me,” Tim said, disappearing into the door without looking back. “The security system here is simpler than in the Batcave, but it’s not completely nonexistent.”

"I mean, shouldn't we at least say hello?"

Wang Baixi followed behind him, and almost tripped over a trash can because it was too dark in the alley. He silently cursed all the ancestors of the Gotham City Department in his heart.

"You can say hello in a bit," Tim said with a smile.

The staircase inside the clock tower spiraled upwards, each step paved with old wooden planks that creaked when stepped on. After climbing three floors, Wang Baixi began to feel that the physical exertion of this errand had exceeded his expectations.

Tim walked ahead very fast, his legs moving like springs, completely ignoring the adult from the Muggle world behind him.

"Do you volunteer police officers usually take this route to work?" Wang Baixi asked, leaning against the wall.

Damn it, he's a weak recent graduate! He's nothing like those kids who can scale walls and leap across rooftops!

“If I were Batman, I’d just use the grappling hook,” Tim stopped at the corner and glanced back at him, “but I guess you won’t use the grappling hook.”

“You guessed right, little detective,” Wang Baixi said helplessly. “I’ve never even touched a regular handgun.”

Finally, they reached the top of the clock tower, Barbara's secret base.

She transformed this place into a rather impressive command center, with seven or eight monitors covering half of the curved wall. A young woman sat with her back to them in the center of an ergonomic chair, her red hair shining like a burning flame under the blue light of the monitors.

Hearing the noise behind her, she turned her head slightly, and Wang Baixi could tell from that half of her face that she didn't look well.

"Tim, don't you have school today? And why aren't you wearing your uniform?"

“We have something important to do, Barbara.”

"Wow," Wang Baixi couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice before Tim could even introduce him, "A super hacker sitting in a wheelchair, is he cosplaying Stephen Hawking? It's just missing that talking machine."

The world was silent for half a second.

Tim turned and glanced at Wang Baixi, which made Wang Baixi realize that his voice was a bit too loud.

Barbara's expression was much more complicated. She paused for a moment, then her lips twitched twice: "Were you just joking about me and a deceased physicist?"

“I apologize,” Wang Baixi raised his hands, feeling that he had indeed misspoke under Barbara’s gaze. “That joke was too awful.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Stranger,” Barbara pushed her wheelchair toward the main display screen, responding in a friendly tone tinged with sarcasm, “At least you complimented me on being smart, I accept that part.”

Tim clearly didn't want this awkward start to escalate any further. He took two steps forward and stood between Barbara and Wang Baixi, forcibly steer the conversation back on track: "Barbara, this is Wang Baixi, a necromancer from China."

"A necromancer? He can talk to the dead?"

In reality, he can only talk to dead dogs and dead cats right now.

"Yes, that kind."

“Okay, so you came to me because you want me to help you investigate something?” Barbara guessed.

“It’s Dick, he’s missing,” Tim said bluntly.

Barbara frowned. "Dick disappeared? When did that happen?"

“Around 3:20 a.m. this morning, Alfred said he hadn’t returned to the manor to report before dawn, so I rushed over there early this morning.”

Barbara didn't ask any more questions. She turned around and slid her wheelchair to the front of the curved display wall. She put on her glasses and began to operate the touch panel on the armrest with great speed. The data streams on the screens began to scroll wildly, loading one operation interface after another that Wang Baixi couldn't understand at all.

Clearly, she's not the kind of computer geek who just presses Windows+R and types cmd!

Barbara, meanwhile, glanced at Wang Baixi during the loading process and asked, "Speaking of which, what grudge does this Eastern mage have against our dear Dick Grayson? Why is he acting with you?"

Tim answered the question first, “He claims he can resurrect Bruce, so we’re working together. Right, the hermit’s apprentice?”

"Well, I guess so," Wang Baixi said, his expression seemingly unashamed. "But to be honest, I came here for the reward."

"For money?" Barbara chuckled, seemingly treating the idea of ​​bringing the dead back to life as a joke.

“It’s shares,” Wang Baixi corrected, “five percent of Wayne Group’s shares, which that old man Joshua promised to give me. Of course, I didn’t expect Bruce to die before I came. I just heard that there are many opportunities to make money in America, so I wanted to fill my pockets. My first stop is this cursed city.”

Isn't it all about money?

"Ahem, who is Joshua?"

“He is Mr. Bruce’s ancestor, whom I resurrected,” Wang Baixi scratched his head. “I know this sounds outrageous, but your world is already outrageous enough, so I suggest you don’t spend too much time worrying about this.”

Barbara glanced at Tim, who nodded in confirmation, his expression saying, "Yes, I know it's ridiculous, but it's true."

No way, he can really bring the dead back to life?

“Okay, I believe you,” Barbara’s tone became serious. “After all, you’re Chinese, right?”

"What's wrong?" Wang Baixi interrupted her alertly.

Barbara's eyes narrowed behind her glasses, and her smile held a hint of mystery. "Then please do me a favor too."

"What kind of help?"

The other person didn't answer directly, but instead raised their hands and clapped.

Two crisp claps rang out in the empty clock tower, and then Wang Baixi heard a voice coming from above.

He subconsciously looked up and saw a lithe figure flip down from the roof beam, completing a clean and neat turn in the air before landing steadily next to Barbara's wheelchair.

The figure landed almost without making a sound!

Wang Baixi stared intently...

Chapter Fifteen: Good boy, pat on the head

The newcomer was a girl who looked to be sixteen or seventeen years old. Her neat short black hair barely touched her shoulders. She had delicate facial features and obvious Asian characteristics. Her black eyes showed a sense of innocent curiosity, but her expression was as cold as an iron plate.

After she stopped, she didn't look at Tim or Barbara, but stared straight at Wang Baixi, a gaze that made him feel uncomfortable.

No, where did she come from?!

“This is Cassandra Cain,” Barbara said, gliding her wheelchair between the two. “About a week ago, she suddenly appeared in Gotham and approached me.”

Tim looked Cassandra up and down, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes. "She found the clock tower herself? The concealment system here is excellent."

“That’s why I kept her here,” Barbara laughed, but her smile was complicated. “Anyone who can bypass my security system and find this place is either a top hacker or a top assassin. I don’t really want her running around outside either.”

However, Miss Cassandra's expression did not change when she heard the word "killer".

“The problem now is,” Barbara continued, “this girl has a language disorder. She speaks in incomplete sentences and doesn’t even know many words. It took me three whole days to piece together two pieces of useful information from her: she’s from China and her name. Other than that, she can only use sign language to gesture some simple words, so there’s no way to have any complex communication with her.”

“What else did she say?” Tim asked.

"She said she could help us fight crime and kept asking about Batman's whereabouts, seemingly idolizing him. When I told her that Batman was gone, she didn't believe me at all, and her expression was as if I was lying to her."

Wang Baixi looked at Barbara, then at Cassandra, and the first thought that popped into his mind was: You two seem to be communicating quite well, don't you? What exactly constitutes "complex" communication?

“You should show him the news,” Wang Baixi said, squinting.

Suddenly, Cassandra, who had been silent all along, spoke up like a cat with its fur standing on end: "F...Fake! Fake news!"

"I thought she was going to say 'Fuck'."

“Hey, King, there are two minors here,” Barbara said, frowning.

Tim, unfazed, approached Cassandra. "Cassandra, is it? Don't worry, we mean no harm. I'm Batman's sidekick, and he is indeed... well, asleep. But it's alright, this Eastern sorcerer beside me will save him."

Cassandra's chin twitched slightly, the first micro-expression she made during the entire conversation.

"Hey... Tim, she looks older than you, why are you comforting her?" Wang Baixi said, exasperated.

“There’s nothing we can do about the language barrier.” Barbara sighed, then looked at Wang Baixi with expectant eyes. “It’s up to you, Wang.”

"Are you sure I can communicate with her?" Wang Baixi pointed to himself and then to Cassandra. "Just because we're both Chinese?"

“You’re Chinese, and you can even talk to the dead, so talking to the living shouldn’t be difficult for you, right?” Barbara counted on her fingers for him. “If even you can’t handle her, then I really can’t help you.”

Wang Baixi turned to Cassandra, trying to retrieve information about the name from his cloud-reader's mind.

He vaguely remembered Cassandra Cain but couldn't recall exactly who she was.

Was it some kind of bat girl? Or someone from the Assassin's Guild? He remembered some things, but the details were all blurry, like remembering having a dream yesterday but not being able to recall what it was about.

Okay, let's give it a try!

“Hello,” Wang Baixi greeted tentatively in Chinese, forcing a smile that he thought was friendly enough. “My name is Wang Baixi, and your name is Cassandra, right?”

Cassandra glanced at him.

To be precise, she glanced at him with the look one would give a package, then looked away.

Wang Baixi repeated it in English.

However, she remained unmoved.

"Could he be from Hong Kong?" Wang Baixi frowned, then spoke in Cantonese, which a friend from Guangdong had taught him:

"Hello, I'm Wang Baixi. You son of a bitch!!"

This time, Cassandra's eyebrows twitched, then she gave a soft hum and turned her head away.

What's going on? Is his pronunciation not standard?