Chapter 133: Ch.132 Cleaning Up the Aftermath

Chapter 133: Ch.132 Cleaning Up the Aftermath

"The program is ready, Batman."

Cyborg from the main universe walked up to Batman, who, clad in his silver armor, was standing on the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the state of Gotham. The wind from the heights whipped his cape into the air.

Gotham City was engulfed in smoke and flames, with explosions and sporadic gunfire echoing throughout—a true apocalyptic scene. Amidst the chaos, the sounds of crying and screaming could be heard, as some individuals took advantage of the situation to loot and plunder.

They needed to allocate some manpower to maintain order, not just in Gotham but in all American cities.

In addition to this, there were rescue operations to conduct—getting the heroes down from the tuning fork, saving citizens from dark towers in other cities, and ensuring the safety of everyone involved.

They needed to extinguish fires, clear roads, rescue civilians trapped under collapsed buildings, and minimize the damage to the populace.

For example, the Martian Manhunter had already disappeared from sight; he had likely gone off to save people. Knowing his character, he was probably also rescuing zoo animals and stray cats and dogs from the streets.

Additionally, there were post-battle tasks, such as securing captured villains, handling the remains of fallen comrades, tending to injured heroes, and repairing the Starlight Citadel to send others home.

More importantly, they needed to return Earth-0 to its original position in the universe and seal the rift in the Dark Multiverse.

There was an overwhelming amount of work to be done, and even with the large number of superheroes, it still felt like there weren't enough hands to cover everything.

With a tug on his cape, Bruce turned around. Although Barbatos had been imprisoned and the process of Earth-0 sinking into the Dark Multiverse had been halted, the fact that Earth-0 was still caught in the middle of the Bleed remained a danger.

Looking at Cyborg's red cybernetic eye, Bruce spoke calmly, having weathered the worst of the storm and now only needing to handle the cleanup.

"Then execute the original plan. The Deathstroke from the alternate world told me that using the resonance of the X-Metal to connect everyone's minds would return Earth-0 to its original place."

Cyborg brought up a few screens in front of him, quickly searching through them.

"But, Bruce, we have no information about him. He..."

"Right now, he's on the same side as us. That's undeniable. Execute the plan."

Bruce spoke with resolve, pulling out a small vial from behind him, containing the single drop of X-Metal he had obtained from Su Ming to revive Cyborg.

He hadn't returned it to Su Ming, and Su Ming hadn't asked for it back.

What kind of father does that? Someone beats your sons into the hospital, and you send them cookies baked by your butler?

"Bruce, why do you trust him? You know mercenaries aren't trustworthy."

Cyborg sighed, even though this seemed like the only solution at the moment. Still young, he couldn't help but complain a bit.

Bruce headed towards the tuning fork, firm in his judgment.

"No, Victor. As long as I haven't settled the bill, he's the most trustworthy person. If I'm right, he'll probably provide a very detailed invoice, itemized, and once paid, he'll likely take a vacation in Hawaii. He likes the ocean, so he might buy a small plane or a yacht and probably won't take on any jobs for about three months."

"Oh my God." Cyborg tapped the side of his head, though he no longer had ears. "My audio receptors must be malfunctioning—you actually trust someone, and that someone is Deathstroke?"

Bruce wasn't offended. After all, Cyborg was technically a friend of the Robins, and essentially still a kid, much younger than Barry.

Batman had been young once, and he understood Cyborg's perspective. One Deathstroke had already been enough of a headache for them, and now there was another, so it was natural for him to feel afraid.

Bruce also knew that while Damian and Nightwing suffered at Deathstroke's hands, as long as no one paid him, their lives were safe.

He saw Damian and the Robins as his sons, who would one day inherit Wayne Enterprises. Each of them would probably be worth hundreds of billions, and Deathstroke wouldn't kill such valuable future targets.

And Bruce wasn't getting any younger, now in his forties. If the kids didn't grow up quickly, who would take up the mantle of Batman after him?

If Deathstroke was willing to act as a free sparring partner, it was a good thing. If Nightwing and the others needed to grow, they had to learn that no one else could be trusted—they had to rely on themselves.

To be a superhero, especially the next Batman, they had to endure these hardships.

Besides, the grudges with Deathstroke didn't involve this alternate world's Deathstroke—Bruce knew the difference.

And Cyborg was wrong about one thing: Batman didn't trust anyone. This alternate world's Deathstroke was just temporarily less suspicious.

"Right now, he, Barry, and Diana are probably chasing down the Batman Who Laughs. We just need to focus on our task."

"Okay, okay, Uncle Batman is always right."

Cyborg covered his head, giving a half-hearted response. He still couldn't understand Batman—was this the generation gap?