17 This place is haunted.

Peter returned to Bumblebee and pulled three Penguin henchmen, who were already scared out of their wits, from the car. Bumblebee had chosen his position well, blocking the thugs' escape route and rounding them all up at once. The thugs actually thought they were being haunted.

After tying them up by the roadside and calling the police, Peter felt quite satisfied with himself. It wasn’t just that he had handled a group of outlaws with such finesse, but what made him even happier was that he had managed to get one over on Red Hood.

No, to be precise, he had prevented Red Hood from sliding into an abyss without a bottom line.

Just thinking about the look on Red Hood’s face when he discovered his bullets had been replaced with rubber ones made Peter grin from ear to ear.

This left Bumblebee curious about what could possibly be making him so happy. Unable to get an answer through the radio, he began to bounce Peter up and down in the driver’s seat, nearly causing Peter to bite his own tongue.

"Cut it out, Bee!" Peter had to speak up to stop him.

Bumblebee’s current form was not the Camaro from their first meeting, but a very low-profile, even somewhat shabby, yellow Beetle. In Gotham, a car like this wouldn't attract the slightest bit of attention.

Before school ended, Peter had texted his family saying he was staying at the school library to study, then had Bumblebee transform and drive to the suspicious locations he’d picked up on the police scanner.

Bumblebee had even tinted his windows so no one could see who was inside.

This mode of transport saved Peter a lot of web fluid, and Bumblebee could secretly coordinate with him; both the human and the Autobot were very happy with the arrangement.

The cheerful music playing on the radio was interrupted by the police channel. Officers reported that enormous mutant plants were attacking passersby on a certain street, suspected to be the work of Poison Ivy. Batman and Robin were already on their way to provide backup.

Without Peter saying a word, Bumblebee had already swerved to head toward the scene.

The street was in chaos. Massive vines were growing at the intersection, and a small sedan had been hoisted high into the air, dangling dozens of meters off the ground and swaying precariously. The child inside was crying shrilly.

Robin’s katana flashed in a blur, slicing through vines so quickly they could have been served as sashimi at a Japanese restaurant. Yet, for every vine he cut, another grew back just as fast, the severed ends emitting a faint, dark vapor.

"Robin, save the civilians." Batman instructed Damian while battling the thrashing vines. He was too heavy; attempting a rescue would only make the car slide faster.

Robin lured the vines attacking him toward Batman, fired a grappling hook to scale the nearby building, and leapt toward the vine holding the car, landing with precision.

However, the vine bowed under the impact, and Robin’s pupils constricted.

He had calculated it—there was no way his own weight and the force of his jump should have bent it to that angle!

The vine was consciously trying to drop the car, keeping them too busy with the rescue to counterattack.

"Robin!" Batman had no time for anything else and rushed toward the spot where the car was falling.

Suddenly, a massive pulling force at his lower back sent Bruce flying backward. In mid-air, he subtly raised his elbow, ready to use the blade hidden there to teach his attacker a lesson. But before he could even see who it was, his ears caught a noisy voice.

"Calm down, big guy. If you go charging in to act as a human cushion, you’re just going to get flattened—"

The attacker closed the distance, and Bruce angled his elbow to the perfect position—

"You’d better deal with these vines instead. My webs really can't handle them; to each their own, right? But where did these beautiful plants come from? They’re so fierce! And I saw those blades of yours, sir! Treating your allies like that is very unethical!"

The red-and-blue attacker fluidly dodged the elbow blade and launched himself toward the falling car. Before Bruce could respond, Robin snapped, "Who’s your ally! Get lost!"

Spider-Man landed precisely on the car’s landing spot. With a resounding "bang," he caught the vehicle. The concrete beneath his feet cracked from the massive impact, and Peter was half-buried in the ground.

Thinking the red-and-blue freak who had ambushed his father had been crushed to death by the car, a subtle smile appeared on Robin’s face.

But a moment later, Peter crawled out from under the car. With him acting as a buffer, the people inside the sedan had only been jolted hard and bumped their heads against the roof. The child was whimpering softly, clearly unharmed.

Batman and Robin exchanged a glance.

The vines continued to attack the pair ferociously, yet they deliberately left Spider-Man alone as he helped the civilians out of the car.

Robin couldn't help but ask, "Why aren't you hitting him? Just because he said your plants were beautiful?!"

The vines seemed to agree, shaking in the air.

A smile migrated from Robin’s face to Peter’s.

"That is the art of conversation." Peter was in a great mood, speaking as if in an aria.

Red Hood, however, was not so happy.

He gritted his teeth as he switched his magazines back, then made a trip to the Batcave to have Alfred analyze the non-degradable spider silk stuck to his gun barrel.

The new red-and-blue freak, despite the different costume, moved, fought, and had a build very similar to the black-clad stranger from that night at Arkham. Jason still needed the analysis of the residue to confirm, but the black-clad figure had been a mute, while this red-and-blue freak’s mouth was worth an entire army.

He changed his weapon and headed back into the lawless den of Gotham’s night.

"Red Hood is going crazy again!"

"Who ticked him off?"

"Mom! I have to go home, don't stop me!"

At 9:30, Jason, covered in blood and grime, knocked out the last Penguin henchman who had been foolish enough to run into him and slowly let out a breath.

It was time to head back to Wayne Manor and check if his new little brother was home before ten o'clock, just as he had promised.

Peter parked Bumblebee in the garage, habitually leaned against the door to soothe Bee and chat for a while, then grabbed his backpack and headed for the elevator.

His school uniform was hidden in a compartment inside the bag.

As soon as he reached the atrium, he saw Jason sprawled out on the sofa, tossing something into the air. He was inexplicably radiating hostility, seemingly in a foul mood.

The young man trotted over and poked his head into Jason’s field of vision. "Hi—"

Peter smiled brightly. "Waiting for me?"

Jason sat up, nearly bumping into Peter’s forehead.

He scanned the boy—plaid shirt, jeans, backpack—and couldn't help but scoff, "Nerd."

"You’re not wrong." Peter shrugged, not at all offended. "If I weren't a nerd, I wouldn't be able to do this."

He took out a robotic puppy and placed it in Jason’s palm. He had made it with scrap materials in his spare time between reading papers at the lab.

"It only knows how to bark and nuzzle you, don't mind that." Peter smiled at him. "Just a thank you for accompanying me to registration."

He had originally wanted to paint it red and blue, thinking the Wayne family wouldn't connect Spider-Man to the physically frail nerd Peter Parker. But he had given up because he couldn't find any paint.

Jason coughed dryly and quickly tucked the robotic puppy away. "Thanks."

At the next Bat-meeting, he would take this puppy out in front of everyone and casually announce that Peter had made it specifically for him.

"Where is everyone else? Sleeping again?" Peter looked around. The massive first-floor atrium held only the two of them. September in Gotham was already cooling down, and he shivered slightly.

"Poor sleep quality has to be compensated with quantity," Jason replied with a straight face.

In reality, Alfred was doing logistics in the Batcave, and the other little birds of the Bat-family were still patrolling Gotham.

He leaned back on the sofa and lazily added, "Dick went back to Blüdhaven, and Cassandra is staying out with Stephanie for a while."

Bruce, Tim, and Damian usually wouldn't be back until after midnight. Sometimes, when they ran into difficult situations, pulling all-nighters was common.

Damian held the top spot for most school absences, with a trend of continuing that streak through middle school.

Jason still had to wait for Alfred to finish the analysis. Seeing it wasn't too late, he decided to invite the little nerd to play some games so he wouldn't be called a "dodo" by his classmates when he got to college.

"What game?" Peter was brimming with interest and blurted out, "I’m best at racing games; I’ll definitely crush you!"

After saying this, he suddenly realized he was with a new family member he wasn't yet familiar with and who didn't have the best temper, so he hurriedly shrank his neck and coughed. "I mean... I’m good at racing, yeah."

Jason scoffed. "Big talk."

When he was joyriding the old man’s Batmobile through Gotham, you weren't even old enough to have a license!

The two immediately headed for the game room.

The game room was in the east wing of the first floor. It used to be on the fourth floor, but after Damian’s strong demands, it was moved to the first, so he wouldn't be heard by his old man when he snuck upstairs to play games.

Peter had toured the room when he first arrived at Wayne Manor, but he had thought it was a study or something and hadn't looked closely. Now that he knew it was a game room, his jaw hit the floor.

A game room twice the size of the one-bedroom apartment he rented in New York!

A rough count revealed at least ten monitors, and controllers, keyboards, and VR headsets were displayed in a dizzying array of colors.

Against one wall, three racing motorcycles were set up in front of three screens.

Jason picked up his red controller and looked back to see Peter still standing there with his mouth agape. He felt a little smug inside, though he remained stoic on the surface. "Wipe your drool."

After a pause, he added, "The password is... feel free to play whatever."

"Who is the password for?" Peter asked.

"To keep out demons—no, to keep out minors." Jason accidentally let slip Damian’s nickname and quickly corrected himself.

Even though Damian could always crack the password, the time it took him was enough for Bruce to notice and come down to drag him away.

Peter was horrified: could this place be haunted, and did it have demons too?!

Usually traveling by motorcycle, Jason wasn't interested in motorcycle games, so they turned on *Kart Racer*.

Before sitting on the sofa, Peter looked around to make sure there were no feet sticking out from behind any curtains, then picked up a blue controller.

That was Stephanie’s. The Spoiler, who liked to dress like a purple eggplant, preferred blue-purple tones, and the different colors were just for identification. Since Nightwing wasn't around often, she had usurped his signature color too.

The two chose an item race. Even though they were sitting on the same sofa, they were merciless in sabotaging each other, pelting each other’s characters with items until they were both tied.

Peter’s competitive spirit was sparked. The two switched to *Overcooked*, starting a new round of cooperation... or rather, sabotage.

Peter wasn't as skilled at this game as Jason. The young man’s eyes darted around, and he started playing dirty, frequently crowding the path Jason’s character needed to take, pretending it was accidental while giggling as he bumped Jason off the edge several times.

After being bumped off for the third time, Jason pursed his lips. He glanced at Peter, then suddenly shifted his weight, shoving Peter right off the sofa.

Peter was caught completely off guard—his Spider-Sense wouldn't warn him about such a trivial prank—and he slid onto the floor. "Hey!!"

His character missed the delivery, and Peter stared at Jason in frustration, only to suddenly hear movement upstairs.

"What was that sound?"

Jason looked calm. "It’s haunted."

Peter swallowed hard and quickly sat back on the sofa, scooting slightly toward Jason until he could feel the warmth of Jason’s thigh against his own. Only then did he feel much more at ease.

Jason’s lips curled into a faint smile.