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

“Don’t be so grateful. Let me make this clear first: I can stay in Gotham, but you have to clean out those haunted guest rooms in the manor beforehand. Last time I stayed there, I heard footsteps in the hallway in the middle of the night, and when I asked Alfred, I found out it wasn’t any servants.” Zatana released her grip, her gaze sweeping over Bruce’s shoulder to the row of people behind him. “Let me guess, these are the ‘extra surprise’ you mentioned on the phone?”

Bruce turned to the side and pointed to Dick and Tim first, "You've met Dick and Tim before."

The two also greeted Zatana separately.

“Yes,” Zatana looked them up and down, “the children look like they’ve all grown up quite a bit, and oh, this is…”

Zatana's gaze fell on Cassandra, whose face was full of restraint. She took two steps forward and bowed slightly. "Hello, I'm Zatana."

"Hello……"

Cassandra looked up at her and responded awkwardly.

“She’s Cassandra Cain,” Bruce explained. “She only recently joined us, and she’s a little shy, so don’t frighten her.”

“Yes, Mr. Bruce.” Zatana reached out and ruffled Cassandra’s hair. Cassandra instinctively shrank back, but didn’t pull away. As Zatana withdrew her hand, she casually brushed a stray hair behind Cassandra’s ear. “She’s your new adopted daughter?”

“Not an adopted daughter, but… a disciple.” Bruce considered his choice of words.

“Alright, Bat Master.” Zatanna straightened up and looked at Bruce again. “So, where is Mr. Wang, whom you asked me to see?”

Bruce put his hand on Wang Baixi's shoulder and pulled him forward half a step.

"You've already met."

Wang Baixi extended his hand. "Hello, I'm Wang Baixi. I must say, your waist-cutting magic trick was really amazing. I suspect I was actually cut in half."

“You’re right to suspect it. Real magic is magic.” Zatana took his hand. “But you cooperated very well. Most of the audience members I called up on stage didn’t have such a calm expression as you.”

When he learned that he had actually been cut in half, Wang Baixi's smile gradually froze.

"Don't be so serious, you're perfectly fine now." Zatana withdrew her hand, her blue eyes sparkling with playfulness.

"Uh, yes."

"Speaking of which, I'm quite curious about your magic. Could it be that you come from Cheng Liansu Square?"

Zatana is theoretically capable of performing some resurrection magic, but she cannot perfectly resurrect humans or animals without paying a price. This price often manifests as uncontrollable internal injuries and pain. However, Wang Baixi himself seems to not need to pay anything; it is the resurrected one who has to bear the cost.

This is why she was curious about Wang Baixi, a man of unknown origin.

"Cheng Liansu Square? What's that place?" Wang Baixi looked at her blankly.

Zatana's brow twitched slightly. Cheng Liansu Square was a gathering place for ancient Chinese magic. If Wang Baixi came from the distant East, he shouldn't have no impression of it at all.

But that expression only lingered on her face for less than half a second before she covered it up with a smile. "It's nothing, just a place where older magicians like to hang out. It seems your teacher didn't mention it to you. So, what about your lineage?"

“Actually, my teacher is a bit low-key, so, you know…” Wang Baixi smiled awkwardly.

“Okay, I understand. I’ll wait until you bring it up yourself.” She clapped her hands, as if she had just finished a trivial topic. “Anyway, I’ll do my duty and make sure you don’t cause any trouble. Bruce described you as so mysterious, I’d like to see for myself just how capable you really are.”

“I’m also very curious about just how capable I really am,” Wang Baixi said.

“It doesn’t feel right for someone who can resurrect to say something like that.” Zatana picked up the magic hat from the dressing table, tossed it into the air, and the hat disappeared in mid-air. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight. Bruce, you can go back now. See you another day.”

"Take care, Zatana."

"Take care of yourself."

The group then walked through the parking lot at the theater's back entrance. Bruce led Dick, Tim, and Cassandra to the black limousine, where Alfred had been waiting for some time in the driver's seat.

Wang Baixi walked alone towards his dark blue sedan, which was parked under a streetlight.

He learned his lesson and, after the "Jack" incident, he will never let anyone else drive for him again.

He opened the car door, climbed into the driver's seat, inserted the key into the ignition, gripped the steering wheel tightly, and took a deep breath of the fresh air inside the car.

Great, no bombs, no walkie-talkies, the passenger seat is empty except for the jazz music playing from the car radio.

But just then, the passenger door was suddenly pulled open from the outside.

Zatana plopped into the passenger seat, closed the door behind her, and casually fastened her seatbelt. She had changed out of her stage tuxedo and was now wearing a loose black knitted cardigan, still sporting fishnet stockings and high-heeled boots. She leaned back in her seat, her long legs stretched out in front of her, crossed.

Why did you just walk in so casually?

Didn't we say we'd meet another day?

You don't need to see the license plate number when you hail a taxi, right?

“Miss Zatana,” Wang Baixi’s hands froze on the steering wheel, “this is not the way to Wayne Manor.”

“Of course I know this isn’t the way to Wayne Manor,” Zatana turned and smiled at him. “This is the way to your place. Don’t you live in the Bristol district? Bruce told me.”

How could you?

“The first step in the investigation is to thoroughly understand the other party’s living habits, including their living environment.” Zatana suddenly snapped her fingers, and the magician’s hat fell from mid-air. She easily caught it, then reached inside and pulled out a small black cat.

The cat had fluffy, shiny fur and deep amber-yellow eyes. It even yawned in mid-air when she lifted it up by the scruff of its neck.

Wang Baixi stared at the cat that appeared out of nowhere for several seconds, then looked at the hat in Zatana's hand, and finally gave up on asking further questions.

“Its name is Meatball,” Zatana said, placing the cat on her lap and gently rubbing its ears. “Come on, Meatball, say hello to Uncle Wang.”

The cat raised its yellow eyes and glanced at Wang Baixi, then opened its mouth and let out a soft meow.

"Don't call me uncle!"

"Come on, come on, say hello to it. You'll be living together for a long time, meow~" Seeing that Wang Baixi was resistant to the feline, Zatana laughed even more happily, picked up the meat pie, grabbed one of the cat's paws, and slowly shook it at Wang Baixi.

"I keep birds at home, so please don't let your cat eat them!"

“Meatball is a cat, right, Meatball?” Zatana ruffled Meatball’s hair.

"I hope so," Wang Baixi said, rubbing his forehead.

Chapter Seventy-Three: The Silly Bird

The car drove completely out of the Gotham Theatre parking lot.

While driving, Wang Baixi kept glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure there were no suspicious vehicles following behind before increasing his speed to forty miles per hour.

"Speaking of which, Miss Zatanna, what are your thoughts on Gotham?" he casually brought up a topic.

Zatana placed the meat pie on her lap, turned her head to look at the neon signs receding outside the car window, and thought for a while before speaking: "If I had to say, it's pretty good."

"Oh, how so?"

“A local girl from Gotham messaged me today. She’s a fan of mine, and we’ve been following each other for a long time.”

She said: This is the best summer of her adulthood. That year, she found a clerical job at Wayne Enterprises’ newly opened vocational training center and invested her savings of six months’ worth of wages into the Gotham Reconstruction Fund, which the city government promised to double in return within five years.

"Airfares are discounted everywhere. A flight from Gotham to Metropolitan costs only thirty-nine dollars, and a weekend trip to the waterfront to see the ocean doesn't cost much either."

"The day before yesterday, she was walking near Robinson Park when someone suddenly shouted on the street: 'We now have two Batmen!' Everyone stopped what they were doing, some hugged, some applauded, and some even opened a bottle of champagne in the street. She said she was very happy and had the illusion that Gotham was finally not the worst city in the United States."

What kind of ridiculous excuse is this?!

Do they live in the same Gotham?

Wang Baixi chuckled dryly, "That's because Seaside City was wrecked by Mongo and the Mechanical Superman, and the city government is short of money, so they came up with so many seemingly beautiful financial plans. To put it bluntly, they're just using tomorrow's tax revenue to fill today's hole. As for the discounted airfares, it's because the airlines are about to go bankrupt, and Seaside City needs tourism for post-disaster reconstruction. Gotham is still Gotham, it's never changed."

At least not now.

"That's a rather cruel thing to say," Zatana said, turning to look at him.

"I'm just telling the truth."

“You’re right, but that girl isn’t wrong either. Gotham is a cursed city, cursed since the day it was born, and the citizens who live there are cursed along with it. They don’t love it here; they were just born here, so they’re overjoyed at the slightest sign of improvement. This isn’t naivety; it’s an instinct developed by people who have lived under a curse for a long time.”

“But then again, what that girl said wasn’t wrong. Collapse and reconstruction often mean new hope.” Wang Boxi turned the car onto the side road leading to Bristol.

“Oh, so what’s your opinion, Mr. Wang? To be honest, I think you’re exactly that kind of person: the kind of person who likes to show off his knowledge and vision in front of others, and then enjoy the praise from others.”

“That’s very accurate, Miss Zatana. I think you are exactly that kind of person: the kind of person who can see through everything in the world. Compared to magic, a pair of eyes that can see through the world seems more precious.”

Even when he was exposed, Wang Baixi was not angry.

"Thank you for the compliment," Zatana replied with a smile.

Wang Baixi continued his topic, "In fact, I have indeed prepared a complete urban construction plan, intending to start with the underground system and completely renovate the entire Gotham sewer and foundation pipe network."

The fact that the explosives the clown planted yesterday hadn't been cleared out yet gave him an excellent opening.

Who knows more about bomb disposal than Wayne Enterprises?

"You're quite ambitious. In what capacity do you intend to persuade those investors and politicians?" Zatana asked curiously.

“What about being a ‘young and promising entrepreneur’? Alan Wayne was involved in the construction of Gotham, Joshua Wayne was involved in the reconstruction of Gotham, and now it’s my turn, as a shareholder of Wayne Enterprises, to give this city a new life.” Wang Baixi stepped on the brakes, and the car came to a steady stop in front of a three-story townhouse.

The villa's exterior was painted a dark gray, and two neatly trimmed holly trees stood at the entrance. This house was arranged for Bruce Wayne by the company, and most of the neighbors were mid-level managers at Wayne Enterprises; the area was one of the safest in Gotham.

Wang Baixi turned off the engine and got out of the car. Zatana followed behind him, carrying a meat pie. The two walked to the door one after the other.

“That sounds pretty fancy,” she continued, “Did Bruce approve of your reckless behavior?”

“He’d love for someone to help him manage the company affairs,” Wang Baixi replied, while taking out his keys to open the door.

He reached out and felt around on the wall, and the living room chandelier instantly lit up, illuminating the living room brightly.

The living room of this house was several times larger than the gravedigger's hut he had previously lived in at the cemetery, and it was furnished quite warmly. A black leather sofa was against the east wall, several cans of unfinished drinks were on the coffee table, and a rocking chair was next to the sofa.

Zatana's gaze swept around the living room, but before she could make any comment, she heard the sound of wings flapping above her head.

An owl swooped down from the second-floor railing and landed precisely on Wang Baixi's shoulder, its large, round eyes fixed on Zatana.

"Hey, I should really lock you in a birdcage!" Wang Baixi complained.

Then came an even sharper eagle cry.

A reddish-brown falcon took flight from the bird stand at the other end of the living room and swiftly landed on Wang Baixi's outstretched left forearm.

One of the birds was the owl court's left-in-the-bat cave, and the other was the falcon that "Little Bird" had been training. After a few days of carrot-and-stick discipline from Wang Baixi, it had temporarily submitted to his tyranny.

The owl in the courtroom will clear the way for him.

"Alright! We have guests!" Wang Baixi said helplessly, calming the two birds of prey down like coaxing children. "Let me introduce you, this is Hedwig, and this is Buckbeak."

Zatana looked at the two birds of prey named after characters from Harry Potter, and the smile on her lips deepened.

The black cat named Meatball in her arms was so frightened by the two large birds that had suddenly appeared from the sky that its tail had bristled into a feather duster, and it was desperately trying to burrow into her cardigan.

“This isn’t just any bird you’re raising, it’s a bird of prey. I think the safety of Meatball’s cat is what we need to be concerned about.” Zatana pressed down on Meatball’s back.