Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 4402 - 3492: Research on Cats and Dogs (3)_2

"Bruce..." Clark called out, "I admit, at the end of that game, I said some things I shouldn't have. It was completely my fault, and I sincerely apologize."

Bruce stared at him without moving, his expression resembling a lie detector you'd find in an interrogation room. Not because it was particularly professional, but because his mere presence exuded a kind of intimidating authority.

"I invited you to couples' night because I thought apologizing to you one-on-one might feel awkward, so I wanted to use this opportunity to ease our relationship. I really didn't expect you to go off drinking."

"But you did message me," Bruce said.

"Yes, you're an adult. I have no right to stop you from going to a bar. I genuinely thought you were just going to relax, not that you'd drink so much."

"You even made a video call to me," Bruce added.

"I could tell you were drunk, but I thought it was harmless to get drunk once in a while. I didn't expect it would coincide with a player showing up."

"Yes, everything is what you didn't expect. You also didn't expect that during the last game, when that little girl died right in front of me, it would trigger my PTSD."

Clark froze. The storyline of the last game replayed in his mind. He remembered a scene where a little girl was shot and killed while running toward Bruce.

"So that's why you were off the entire game?"

Bruce wiped his face again, flicked off the water droplets on his hand, but remained silent. Clark took a deep breath, walked over, placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, and said, "It's entirely my fault. I am deeply sorry."

Bruce shifted slightly to the side, though it didn't seem like a deliberate escape. Then he closed the lid of the toilet, sat down on it, looked up at Clark, and said, "My head is pounding like it's about to explode. What's your plan for dealing with those players?"

"Lex and I are discussing what the upcoming storyline node might be. Since they've appeared in Metropolis, it must be related to the city. I suspect someone might be plotting to invade Metropolis."

"Who? Aliens?"

"Doesn't matter. You really need to get some sleep." With that, Clark lifted Bruce off the toilet—not so much helped him up as outright hoisted him up, disregarding his intent altogether—and shoved him into the bedroom.

"I made a serious mistake," Clark muttered to Lex as he closed the bedroom door.

"Whatever mistakes you two have between you are none of my business," Lex said. "I just hope those mistakes didn't involve my bathroom, or else both of you can get out."

"What are you even thinking? No, I mean the game Bruce and I played earlier." Clark sighed. "I noticed he wasn't in the right state, assumed he was just annoyed, so I suggested maybe switching teammates to try something different..."

"And then?"

"Turns out it was a misunderstanding. One scene in the game triggered some unpleasant memories for him, and I didn't catch on."

"So he ran off to the bar to drink? Do you think you might be underestimating how resilient he is?"

Clark slumped into a chair and said, "I know he's not that fragile, but he does have this dramatic streak, and clearly, this is all on me, so I can't really say much."

Lex hesitated for two seconds before replying, "What's his reason for going overboard like this? Just to get your attention?"

"Maybe he's expressing his dissatisfaction," Clark said. "You know, whether I'd choose him or you, him or Diana..."

"How come he's not asking whether you'd pick him over Lois?" Lex asked, exasperated.

Just as they were speaking, Bruce stumbled out of the bedroom, holding a strange, rectangular device. To Clark, it looked a bit like a phone from another dimension.

"What's wrong?" Clark asked.

Read lat𝙚st chapters at fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓ Only.

"I've had an inspiration," Bruce said without looking up.

"What inspiration?"

"An idea for making phones!"

Bruce hurried off, clearly still drunk and simply entering the second stage of intoxication-induced antics. Clark and Lex were left with no choice but to follow after him quickly.

"Isn't Wayne Enterprises already making phones?" Clark asked.

Bruce suddenly slammed to a halt, nearly causing Clark to run into him. Lex wasn't so lucky and crashed straight into Clark. Thankfully, the impact wasn't too hard; otherwise, someone might've met an untimely end.

"Yes, Wayne Enterprises has always made phones," Bruce said, spinning around with rapid-fire speed, then abruptly shouted, "BUT NONE OF YOU USE WAYNE ENTERPRISES PHONES!!!"

Bruce took off running, and Clark had no choice but to chase after him. Luckily, Bruce hadn't remembered that he could fly. Clark lunged forward and managed to grab hold of him.

"What's gotten into you, Bruce?" Clark snatched the strange phone-shaped device from his hand. "We don't use Wayne Enterprises phones because our current phones work just fine. Plus, they're really expensive..."

"Nonsense! It's because you still see me as Batman! You think I might install surveillance systems in your phones, so even if I gift them to you, you won't use them..."

"What are you even talking about? You've never gifted us any phones!"

"But *he* gave you phones, and you used them!" Bruce pointed at Lex. "Why don't you suspect *him* of bugging the phones?!"

"He also didn't give us any, and no, we haven't suspected him..."

Lex had reached his limit. Tugging at Clark's sleeve from behind, he said, "He's drunk. This is all drunken madness. You need to get him back to bed..."

Unfortunately, just as Lex spoke, Bruce took off running again, this time down the hallway towards the second-floor balcony.

That's when he finally remembered he could fly. With a whoosh, he soared into the air and out through the front door.

Clark rushed after him. Bruce, in his wild state, accelerated like a madman, forcing Clark to speed up as well.

The cold wind at high altitude seemed to bring Bruce back to his senses slightly. He appeared confused as to how he'd started flying in the first place, then promptly plummeted out of the sky.

Clark dove after him, catching him mid-air, and carefully set him down on the ground.

Just as Clark was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Bruce's drunken antics resurged. He shouted at Clark, "You wanted us to watch movies all night, but you didn't prepare popcorn and soda! You KNOW I love eating popcorn and drinking soda while watching movies..."

Clark was now utterly convinced Lex had been right—Bruce was completely drunk, and reasoning with him was pointless.

Without hesitation, Clark lunged, grabbed Bruce from behind, and executed a wrestling move that slammed him sideways to the ground. Bruce groaned, dazed but still trying to teeter back to his feet.

Having had enough, Clark extended a hand, carefully controlled his strength, and delivered a light but effective chop to the back of Bruce's neck, knocking him unconscious.

As Clark finally thought the chaos was over, he noticed four pairs of blue eyes at the end of the alley staring directly at him, unblinking.