Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 4401 - 3492: Research on Cats and Dogs (3)

Clark threw Bruce onto the sofa in his bedroom.

He exhaled sharply, just about to call Alfred, when the Doujie System sent a notification.

"Hello, we are informing you that your world is about to encounter a plot node. It has been selected as a replica by Battleworld players. Four players are expected to arrive in this universe in one hour, landing in—Metropolis."

Upon seeing this notification, Clark froze.

This was a new theft prevention feature, introduced because some participating players complained that unplanned visits disrupted their game strategies—specifically Batman—so Battleworld introduced this alert function.

Before your world becomes a replica and players log in, the system notifies participants in this universe, giving them time to prepare.

Of course, this might lead to players preparing in advance to intentionally disrupt or even harm others. However, the information is mutually transparent: local participants can prepare, and incoming players can also prepare, making readiness a key element of strategy.

In most cases, players are unlikely to engage in meaningless destructive actions. On the one hand, they're constrained by mission requirements—straightforward ransacking won't yield transferable loot or Points, so it's a waste of time. On the other hand, Battleworld discourages pointless sabotage; enough complaints from others can result in a ban.

Clark glanced at the notification, then at Bruce passed out on the sofa. He suspected Bruce had done this on purpose.

Otherwise, why such precise timing? Bruce conveniently gets drunk just when someone is expected to arrive. He must have learned this information beforehand and acted deliberately.

But what's the point of doing this? Clark didn't know. Regardless, Bruce was completely out of commission now, meaning all the trouble fell to him.

Clark decided against bothering Alfred—in a second. He walked over to the sofa, grabbed Bruce by the waist, hoisted him up, and flew out of Wayne Manor once more.

Flying all the way back to Metropolis, Clark didn't return to his own place but headed to Luthor Manor instead.

After putting Bruce down, Lex Luthor stood behind him, his expression complex. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Even if you think he's in the way, getting him this drunk is a bit much, wouldn't you say?"

"What?" Clark turned to look at him.

"You got him drunk so he wouldn't interfere with what's about to happen in Metropolis. You better watch yourself when he sobers up and comes looking for trouble."

Clark pursed his lips helplessly and said, "Why would I go to the trouble of getting him drunk over something so trivial? He drank himself into this state."

Lex frowned deeply and said, "Dare I ask, does he have a special reason for getting drunk at a time like this? Someone among the incoming players he doesn't want to meet?"

"That, I don't know." Clark shook his head and asked, "Do you have any intel on who's coming?"

After a moment of thought, Lex said, "I think we should first try to research what the incoming plot node entails."

"We'll discuss that later. Let me deal with him first." Clark supported Bruce and guided him toward the restroom.

He soaked a towel in cold water and wiped Bruce's face with it. The chill seemed to jolt Bruce into partial consciousness.

Then he lurched over to the toilet and began to vomit uncontrollably.

With most of the alcohol purged from his system, he finally seemed a bit better. Bruce turned over to sit on the floor. Clark helped him up again, directing him toward the sink to wash his face.

Bruce could barely hold himself upright, but he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face a few times, clearing his head a bit more.

"You should go get some sleep, but first, tell us what your plans are."

"I think watching movies sounds good," Bruce muttered as he leaned over the sink, wincing and clutching his stomach. "Throw in some popcorn and soda, and that'd be even better."

"I'm not talking about that." Clark hung up the towel he'd just rinsed out and said, "About Battleworld—what are your thoughts?"

Bruce lowered his head. His hair had grown long again, draping along the sides of his face so Clark couldn't see his expression. He noticed Bruce's jaw twitch subtly.

"I think it's fine," Bruce replied. "We could try teaming up with different allies, get to know each other better, and maybe coordinate Earth's combined strength more seamlessly."

Clark instantly sensed something was off. He asked, "You didn't look at the Battleworld notification, did you?"

"I saw the squad disband notice—what?!" Bruce's eyes unfocused for a moment, clearly navigating the Battleworld interface.

Bruce froze where he stood for ten seconds. Clark almost wondered whether Bruce was concocting a dozen contingency plans like other Batmen out there. Then Bruce abruptly exclaimed, "Damn it!! Why now?!"

"So you really didn't know. Then why'd you go to the bar to drink?"

Bruce turned his body around, leaning back against the sink to stare at Clark. "Are you implying that the last squad game we played wasn't an amicable closure—or that your suggestion we each try swapping partners for a change was just delirious rambling?"

The source of this c𝓸ntent is freewebnøvel.coɱ.

Clark opened his mouth but said, "I didn't say that. What I mean is, was that your excuse for a bar binge?"

Bruce smirked at him and said, "Whether it is or not, I'm definitely going to say it is. That way, if we screw up this incoming player event, half the blame will lie with you."