A new life(Marvel&DC)

[Batcave]

Despite its gloom, the Batcave exuded a certain charm and mystery. On the stalactites protruding from above—cone-shaped formations resembling icicles descending from the cave's ceiling—bats were peacefully asleep.

Batman was practicing his strikes on a wooden dummy when Barbara and I arrived in the lair of the Dark Knight.

"Hello, Bruce," I greeted my mentor.

"You're here. In that case, start your warm-up."

"Bruce, here's the thing... although, you probably already know," I began as I started my exercises. "Barbara has decided that being Batgirl has worn her out a bit. From now on, she'll only wear the mask on special occasions."

"Alex!" Barbara snapped, massaging her temples.

"I understand what he meant, Barbara," Wayne said monotonously, stopping his assault on the dummy. "And know that I support your decision. I've noticed small outbursts of aggression in you lately, so some rest will do you good. Besides, you're not retiring the mask forever. If I ever need help, you'll still come, won't you?"

"Yes!" the redhead confirmed, clearly pleased to hear such support from her mentor.

Having finished the warm-up, Bruce announced that today's training would be different. "Today, you'll fight Barbara and me at the same time."

"What? Did I hear you correctly?" I pretended to clean my ears. "You said at the same time?"

"That's correct. Although you've hardly mastered the basics, you need to understand that fighting one person is fundamentally different from fighting two. The sooner you grasp this, the better. Let's begin."

What can I say... Even fighting them one-on-one was already a pitiful sight. Now? It was even worse! They were clearly having fun at my expense. Sure, Bruce gave me advice and pointed out my mistakes, but that didn't make it feel any better.

Still, I completely understood what Batman was trying to teach me: fighting multiple opponents isn't the same as fighting one. If you've trained exclusively for one-on-one combat, you'll face a grim fate against multiple enemies.

Now I get it. My perspective on future training has completely shifted. Even in one-on-one combat, you must remain alert, constantly analyzing your surroundings. An ally could be lurking nearby, waiting to strike. Losing focus could lead to something as embarrassing as tripping mid-fight.

Despite the pain from today's beatdown by the Bat-family, the skills I gained were worth the torment.

[+1 to Combat Mastery]

No further comments!

At three in the morning, I crawled home, and without wasting a second, began tending to my battle wounds. Namely... I fell asleep!

Waking up at 6 a.m., I went for my morning jog. And now you might ask, "How did you manage to get up after only three hours of sleep? Won't you feel sick?" But don't worry, I've got it under control—I'm taking my vitamins.

After an hour and a half of training, I collapsed into bed with a satisfied smile.

The second awakening occurred at half past ten. Today, I decided to skip work and stay home since I had a date planned for the evening. Pulling out my robotics course materials, I diligently studied.

At two o'clock, I set my textbooks aside and sat at the computer to work on "It." What a long novel. I don't even understand how I managed to finish reading it in my past life. Stephen King truly earns his title as the "King of Horror."

There's a unique charm to his writing. He has an incredible ability to captivate readers, making them devour each word with genuine terror and awe, even across a massive seven-hundred-page book. I can't wait to see how the public reacts once it's published.

When you're engrossed in work, time flies by unnoticed. As the clock struck four, I decided it was time to get ready. Taking a leisurely shower, I began sorting through my wardrobe.

To make a good impression, I opted for black trousers and a white shirt. Complementing the outfit with a watch and matching shoes, I added a few sprays of pleasant but subtle cologne before leaving the house.

Of course, I took the book I finished yesterday with me.

Victoria's house was in a relatively upscale neighborhood. Most of the buildings were modern and, as far as I knew, quite expensive.

After parking my car, I approached the house and called Vicki to let her know I'd arrived. She assured me she'd be down shortly. In reality, I ended up waiting about half an hour before the evening's heroine finally descended.

She looked stunning. Clad in a vibrant purple dress that perfectly accentuated her graceful figure, she was undeniably beautiful.

For such beauty, nine out of ten men would forgive her for anything,....I also belong to that nine.

"Hello, Victoria. You look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you, Alex," she replied with a sweet smile.

"Please, have a seat," I said, opening the car door for her.

As we set off, my companion asked where we were headed.

"I could say it's a secret," I began, "but it's not such an extraordinary place to keep you in suspense. It's the Quiet Backwater Restaurant."

I couldn't think of anything more original. This restaurant was one of the best in Gotham, but I chose it not only for its reputation but also for the atmosphere. As I learned, it was run by an elderly couple who had lost their only son at a young age. This restaurant was all they had left, and they managed it with utmost care. The couple was highly respected in Gotham; no gossip or criminal ties ever surrounded them. My instincts told me this was the perfect place for our date.

Of course, there was another option: the Iceberg Lounge. It's a luxurious and prestigious Gotham nightclub that also serves as the stronghold of the criminal boss, Penguin. This club often hosted the city's most criminally unstable residents. Even the Joker himself could make an appearance at any moment!

But since this was my first date with Vicky, I figured it was best to avoid such an unpredictable venue.

Finally, we arrived at our destination. After sorting out the parking situation, we were escorted to our table. A waiter handed us the menu, and we began examining it.

"Have you decided what to order?" I asked, setting my menu aside.

"I think I'll go with the Lobster Roll," she replied. "As for the drink... perhaps you could recommend some wine?"

"Achaval-Ferrer Malbec Mendoza Finca Bella Vista," I suggested. "The berries for this wine are harvested from vineyards up to 300 years old, located at an altitude of 3,100 feet above sea level. Before it reaches the table, the wine spends at least 15 months in oak barrels."

"I think I've made my choice," she said softly.

"I hope you won't mind if I don't share a glass with you," I added with a slight smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," I began, "I can't stand alcohol—not at all. Don't ask me why; I don't know myself. But I hope you'll understand."

"That's surprising," she said. "You don't drink, yet you know so much about wine?"

"I just made sure to prepare thoroughly for this date," I admitted.

"That's commendable," she said warmly. "Of course, I could skip wine tonight, but you described it so vividly that I simply have to try it."

The waiter, noticing we had made our choices, returned to take our order. I opted for the Four Seasons pizza with iced tea, while Vicky went with the Lobster Roll and the recommended wine.

"Vicky, have you been here before?" I asked curiously.

"Yes, once," she replied. "I interviewed a Gotham businessman here. He was just awful—not only was he twice the size of a normal person, but he spent the entire time giving me lustful looks. I couldn't even enjoy the food because of him. But work is work, and I endured it. To be fair, I was pretty inexperienced back then. Now, it takes a lot more to get under my skin. I've encountered far worse people in my career."

"Yeah, I don't envy you," I said, when my gaze suddenly landed on a white piano in the center of the restaurant. For some reason, I felt drawn to it.

"I didn't know this restaurant had live music."

"You mean the piano?" she asked, glancing at the instrument. "It's only played for special occasions. The owner, I hear, is an accomplished pianist and sometimes performs for the guests. To be honest, I'm glad there's no performance tonight."

"Why's that?"

"I'm not a fan of modern performers. I only truly admire one pianist—the great Heinrich Mortes. He left us masterpieces no one else has ever come close to. It's sad, really. When his works are played, you feel nostalgia and dream of the impossible. But when I hear other composers, I feel... nothing. It's as though the ability to touch everyone's soul through music hasn't been born yet. Sorry, I know this sounds overly sentimental. I just love music deeply," she explained passionately.

Heinrich Mortes… It seemed this world had its own great composers. Judging by how Victoria spoke about him, he must have been exceptional. Yet, it was clear that other composers hadn't reached the same heights.

In my previous world, there had been countless piano masters, each presenting timeless masterpieces to the world. I wondered what people here would say if they heard just one of those compositions.

"It seems that he really was great," I blurted out, having finished my reasoning.

"What do you mean 'it seems'? Wait, don't tell me you've never heard of Heinrich Mortes! That's impossible; he's one of the greatest historical figures!" my companion declared, realizing that sitting before her was someone completely unfamiliar with this.

"Sorry, the thing is, I lost my memory. Many things in my head were simply erased. Sometimes I remember in fragments..."

"Everything is much more complicated than I thought," Vicky blurted out with a heavy sigh. Telling the truth, albeit in a slightly different way, seemed the best choice. I didn't lie. I really had lost my memory, and many things only returned to me over time.

"Yeah... And if I play now, will you listen to my original composition?"

"What?" Miss Vale looked utterly surprised. "You can play the piano? And what kind of original composition? Do you want to impress me? Then you'd better not—I'm afraid you might ruin it. I told you I don't like listening to terrible melodies."

"Right on target! Well, that's it. This is a challenge. I'll prove to you that there can be music in the world that you'll love even more than the compositions of Heinrich Mortes," I said, rising from my chair and calling the waiter over.

"Alex, what are you going to do?" she asked, concerned. I turned to her and looked into her eyes. A slight smile played on my face, but my gaze was full of determination.

"I want to return to you the feeling of genuine admiration and enjoyment of the magical power of music that you've lost. Despite everything, there are people in the world who are capable of creating unique melodies."

The waiter approached, a hint of concern on his face. "Sir, is there something you need?"

"I would like to play your piano. Is that possible?"

"Um... S-sir, I don't have the authority for that. I don't k-know..."

"In that case, could you call someone who can give me permission? Believe me, this is very important."

"I'll call the hostess now," the young man replied before quickly disappearing.

A minute later, an elderly woman followed him. Although her face was lined with wrinkles, she had not lost her grace and charm. When I researched this place, I'd learned that the owners were in their fifties. But judging by her appearance, I wouldn't have given her more than fifty years. She exuded warmth, sincerity, and kindness, and her smile evoked a sense of instant respect.

"Hello, young man. I hear you want to play in our restaurant hall?" she asked with a calm demeanor. Her arrival caused a small commotion. Most people present had encountered her in some capacity, but she rarely emerged to meet the guests.

As such, her appearance today aroused curiosity, and all eyes turned toward us.

"Hello, madam. You're absolutely right. Is this possible? If necessary, I'm willing to pay..."

"Wait. First of all, I have a question: what piece are you planning to play?"

"My own original composition."

"Aren't you afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of so many people? As I understand it, you want to impress your lady, but is it worth the risk?"

"Madame Alexandra," I addressed her by the name I had learned prior to my visit. "Believe me, I don't entirely know why I so passionately want to play this instrument. But at this very moment, my musical persona demands to be heard. If you allow me, I'll do my best not to disgrace your restaurant."

She observed me carefully before smiling warmly. "What's your name?"

"Alex Reath."

"Alex, let's make a deal: if the people here sincerely applaud your performance, then I won't ask anything from you in return. But if they don't, I hope this serves as a valuable lesson. Winning an audience's love, especially with original music, is never easy for us pianists. Go ahead. I wish you luck. You'll need it—and no matter what happens, believe in yourself," she said, granting permission and offering words of encouragement.

She was truly a wonderful person. Now I understood why everyone respected her so much. She resembled a grandmother guiding her grandson along the right path.

I was immensely grateful to have met someone so admirable today.

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