DC: I Reported Bruce Wayne… Then He Adopted Me Chapter 62 62 Just as he jumped up and was about to rush dow

Just as he jumped up and was about to rush downstairs to stop Theodore from speaking, Theodore opened his mouth even faster than he expected.

Perhaps it was too much exercise tonight; Theodore was now speaking fluently, in one breath. "The other Robin and I have always had a good relationship, and he taught a lot."

"But he's definitely a bit over the age limit."

"And Batman told that he wants a Robin who is better at deduction, and in that regard, I am a better fit than the current one."

Happy smiles don't disappear; they just transfer from Tim's face to Bruce's face.

Bruce echoed profoundly.

"So that's how it is, good, good."

Amidst Wayne's lighthearted laughter, Theodore cautiously shrunk back.

Looking at the pure and happy smile on Bruce's face, Theodore truly didn't understand what was so funny about Robin retiring....Could it be that this guy even fantasizes about retired Robins?

If that's the case, he'd better try to turn his fantasies into action.

Theodore cursed viciously in his heart: Let Robin whack him on the head with a stick and get Wayne a luxury single room in Arkham Asylum!

Then let Joker be his neighbor, and Two-Face be the other!

Bruce knew that the atmosphere tonight had been twisted by Theodore in a strange direction, and it was clearly not suitable for the kind of conversation he wanted to have.

Forget it, it's really too late, let's talk another day.

With a wave of his hand, whether helpless or amused, Bruce motioned Theodore to wait in the dining room outside. The handso man rolled up his sleeves and confidently took two eggs from the refrigerator.

"You said you were a little hungry earlier, right?" "After you finish your late-night snack, you should go back and get so good sleep too."

Upstairs, Tim's expression suddenly changed.

In just 0.5 seconds, Tim burst out the door. As if inheriting his older brother Dick's will, he ran downstairs in a flying posture.

—Bruce, how could he still not forget about cooking himself!

Downstairs, Theodore, who thought he had escaped, also suddenly turned pale.

—After hearing that he was a Robin trainee, did Wayne realize he couldn't use force and intended to resort to drugging him? —Don't dream of it, he would never eat anything that ca from Wayne's hands!

On the surface, Theodore politely stepped forward to stop him. "No, no, no, I'm still more used to eating what I make myself..."

So much happened in that single second.

First, Tim suddenly pushed open the kitchen door. Then, Theodore pulled open the refrigerator and took out two new eggs.

Theodore's experience was still too shallow. He only thought about getting two new, untampered eggs himself.

He had no awareness at all that he should be stopping Bruce at this mont!

So, Bruce, with lightning speed, confidently put the two raw eggs into the microwave.

He said with a smile: "Last ti I used the oven, the eggs exploded, so this ti I'll still use..."

Before he finished speaking, a huge "B-O-O-M!!!" sounded.

Tim stood blank-eyed at the kitchen doorway, shrouded in dust and smoke, and in the chaotic buzzing of the smoke alarm, he extended his fingertips in despair.

Still a step too late.

Robin closed his tired, dry eyes in pain. Ah, he was too late.

At 3:30 AM, old Alfred suddenly woke up from his dream. Within five seconds, the forr MI6 agent had assembled and loaded the T30 placed by his bedside.

The old butler opened the door, then relaxed his brow slightly at the familiar sll of burning.

Oh, he knew what had happened. It was the hens' fault that they couldn't lay golden, tender, smooth fried eggs for Master Bruce to eat.

—Bad news, this night was destined to be a noisy, turbulent, sleepless night. From Tim, who seed to gain the most, to Alfred, who was not involved at all. Tonight, no one in the entire Wayne Manor could find peaceful and lasting tranquility.

—How could this be!!!

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