"I am Fred, the manor's butler. The Master believes it's necessary for me to greet you."
Theodore crashed into Butler Fred's chest, feeling like he had hit a stone statue. Theodore's head swam, and his eardrums buzzed from the powerful impact.
What he didn't notice was Fred touching his own chest, then looking at Theodore's forehead, a hint of surprise in his eyes.
The next second, Theodore was grabbed by the collar from behind, then slowly lifted up.
The top-most buttoned shirt collar tightly choked Theodore's throat. The man's actions were merciless, and Theodore's face turned purple from the strangulation.
"Uh... guh..."
Under suffocation, physiological tears streamed from Theodore's eyes, blurring his vision. Yet, in this state, the other person intimately bent down and caressed Theodore's face with the back of his hand.
"Don't be afraid, child, I won't pluck out a good child's eyes."
"But are you an obedient good child?"
The powerfully built, black-haired man leaned slightly, his vibrant silk robe opening a little with the movement, revealing his well-defined chest.
"...Cough, cough, cough, I, cough, cough, cough, am."
Behind Theodore, the man chuckled contentedly.
"Very good."
Then, in the next second, Theodore's neck was firmly pressed down.
The man's smoothly muscled arm tensed, and like swinging a crowbar, he forcefully slammed Theodore's forehead against the corridor's musty-smelling bat fresco!
Theodore's entire body tensed, and he clenched his teeth tightly, not letting out a scream.
His vision was instantly covered in red.
Blood splattered across the fresco, a stream of it landing precisely on the bat's ferocious fangs, as if the giant carnivorous bat had just gorged itself on human blood.
"Good boy, you did very well, you didn't scream. I don't like noisy boys—but you just bumped into the butler. When you do something wrong, you have to accept punishment, right?"
The corridor was silent, only the pervasive smell of blood and Theodore's heavy gasps.
"...Right." He gritted his teeth and answered word by word, "I'm very sorry, Fred, please forgive me."
"It's nothing, young sir, you're too kind."
The man finally seemed satisfied. He released his grip, letting Theodore fall limply to the ground.
He called out in a neither light nor heavy tone: "—Timothy!"
A black-haired, blue-eyed boy, who looked slightly older than Theodore, had quietly appeared at the corridor entrance at some unknown point.
"Take your new brother away and tend to his wounds."
Timothy silently helped Theodore up, supporting him as they stumbled out of the long corridor.
Behind them, the conversation between Butler Fred and the man continued.
"Do you plan to go upstairs, Master?"
"I'm in a good mood today, Alfred, I plan to practice martial arts for a while longer..."
The boy Timothy—another Timothy, not Timothy Drake, the one adopted by Wayne in his class—supported Theodore, stumbling all the way to the bedroom.
The two boys finally faced each other, their sapphire-like pupils reflecting similar black hair and blue eyes.
"...He said I'm your 'new brother,' what does that mean?"
Opening his parched lips, Theodore asked the first question since they met.
Timothy looked at him mockingly.
"It's obvious, isn't it? Two boys were once buried in this manor. I'm the third, and you're the fourth."
"...Two?"
"Yes. Our eldest brother was named Dicky, our second brother was Jason, and I'm Timothy."
Theodore looked up in a daze, seeing worm-like twisted patterns on the ceiling, like some kind of marked characters.
Bloody words came into view, and even if he couldn't understand their meaning, they burned his retina like a brand.
"What's that?"
"A Hebrew phrase—'Repeating past mistakes, always treading the same old path.'"
No sooner had he spoken than the continuous crimson Hebrew text transformed into the shape of a bat, Pounce Theodore!
Theodore jolted, suddenly waking from his dream, opening his eyes and sitting up in bed!
That manor, his former adoptive father, the butler Fred, abbreviated as "Alfred," his companion Timothy, and that Hebrew phrase...
Repeating past mistakes, always treading the same old path. Repeating past mistakes, always treading the same old path...
Countless complex thoughts flashed through Theodore's mind.
Wait a minute, let him think.
Theodore suddenly looked up, feeling something was not quite right.
What were the names of those three children Wayne adopted before?!