In the end, Bruce still didn't have the courage to use the kitchen utensils, not because he was timid, because he just saw a man leaning next to him and taking drugs, and put a handful of plant rhizomes in the pot.

He doesn't want the dishes to be completely clean and hygienic, but at least they can't be poisonous, right?

Coming downstairs, Bruce decided to survey the terrain first, at this time, it was almost dusk, there were still more people on the street, so it was noisy, Bruce felt that he was out of place here, and everyone looked at him with a strange look.

Bruce knew that not many people knew him, and that Bruce was more famous in the upper echelons of circles, as those people could afford entertainment magazines and could often be seen fooling around from bars.

However, people here can only afford ordinary newspapers, which rarely have lace news, and if they don't read magazines, they probably don't know what Bruce looks like.

Bruce glanced down at his clothes, he wasn't that stupid, he came wearing a name brand, he was wearing unbranded clothes, no different from the Gotham citizens who usually walked down the street.

Bruce thought that the problem might be with his shoes, he had just come from the shareholders' meeting, he hadn't had time to change his leather shoes, and he had forgotten to take off his watch, maybe it was a little out of place here.

The watch is easy to do, just take it off and put it in your pocket, but if he takes off his shoes, where will he find them?

Bruce looked around and noticed that many people were wearing boots, which was a good choice, after all, Gotham had a lot of rain all year round, and having a pair of sturdy rubber boots would keep your feet wet.

Bruce's luck was good, he found a boot shop on the corner, and when Bruce went, there was no one there, so he poked his upper body into the somewhat closed storefront and asked, "How much do rain boots cost?"

The shopkeeper who was settling accounts looked up at him and said, "$5, plus $2, and an umbrella......

Bruce raised an eyebrow, not because he thought it was expensive, but because he thought it was too cheap, he reached out and took a pair of boots from the cupboard next to him, looked at it, and saw that the material was very thick, and the joints were well made, so he said, "Give me a pair of boots and an umbrella."

The shopkeeper said, "Put that pair down in your hand, it's a display, wait a minute."

With that, he walked into the inner room, took out a pair of boots, added an umbrella, and handed it to Bruce, who did not take it immediately, but looked at it, and after receiving it in his hand, he also checked it carefully, and then handed the money to the shopkeeper.

On the way back, Bruce spotted a small shop selling hot dogs on the side of the road, and he paid another two dollars for one.

Back at the rental house, Bruce immediately changed his shoes, took off his watch and hid it, then opened the hot dog package and took a bite.

In the next second, he frowned vigorously, the bread and sausage of this hot dog were not bad, but there were too many sauces, and the moment he entered his mouth, those sauces poured directly into his throat, making him almost vomit.

In addition to the rich mayonnaise, there is also a spicy chili sauce, and several slices of pickled cucumber chili rings are placed in the hot dog, and there is almost no smell of bread or meat that belongs to the sausage, and only the taste of sauce is left in the mouth.

Bruce endured the discomfort and ate the hot dog, and then ran to the faucet and drank two sips of tap water.

Finally suppressed the strange smell of spices, Bruce coughed vigorously twice, shook his hand, and propped himself on the edge of the sink, he thought, probably because he was too hypocritical, in the slums, there is too much sauce, it should be considered an advantage, right?

But soon, he realized that he was too young, because before 20 minutes, he began to have a stomachache.

He had been caught by the sauce and hurried to the water pipe to drink, but he forgot that this was not his manor, there was no terrible water purification system that was expensive, this was the Gotham slum, and Mendeleev didn't know what was in the tap water.

The stomach and intestines that are used to eating light food are not suitable for that large amount of chili sauce and

Pepper rings, combined with the periodic table of chemical elements of tap water, Bruce squatted in the toilet for a night, until the second half of the night, a little better, lying in bed, and falling asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, it was almost noon, and Bruce remembered to look for work early in the morning, but now he was faced with another problem, that is, what to do with lunch?

Yesterday's dinner didn't give him any energy, but made him a little dehydrated, and now he is thirsty and hungry, and he doesn't dare to eat or drink anything, for fear that it will cause gastroenteritis again because of bacterial problems.

Now he understood what Maggie meant, it was really difficult for someone who didn't grow up here to live, because in addition to having a strong will, a flexible mind, and strong endurance, you also had to have an iron stomach.

Enduring the weakness, Bruce felt that he still had to cook for himself, he decided to buy some food, but he didn't know where to buy it, but fortunately, on the way downstairs, he met the Asian woman who had stir-fried before.

The woman, who lived on the third floor, told Bruce that he could go to a nearby street where there was a vegetable supermarket, and that if he wanted to buy meat, he would have to go farther to the slaughterhouse next door.

Arriving at the place where the woman showed the way, Bruce found that the prices here were really cheap, and the boots, umbrellas, and hot dogs he had bought before might have been pitted.

The price is less than a dollar. You can buy vegetables that will give him a full meal, and although the vegetables here are not very fresh, and some of them even look like the remnants of those high-end restaurants, they can at least be eaten.

Bruce felt that he had to buy a pot because no one knew what was cooked in the communal kitchen.

Bruce asked the vegetable vendor where he could buy a pot, and the black vendor thought for a moment, scratched his head, and said, "Why don't you go to the grocery market next door?"

Not far from the vegetable supermarket, there is a grocery market, where everything is sold, hardware parts, daily necessities, second-hand goods, pots and pans......

Bruce did see the pots sold, but the problem was that the pots here were second-hand, and they didn't look right, or rather, most of the things here didn't come from the right way.

Bruce saw the logo of a restaurant he was familiar with, and the reason why that set of dishes appeared here must not have been donated by this restaurant with great kindness.

Walking along the way to the grocery market, Bruce seemed to have come to the scene of a large sale of stolen goods, and he thought, no wonder, Selena would live here, no wonder, every time he didn't catch Selena red-handed, the stolen goods disappeared in one night.

But there was no way, he didn't have a choice at all, he knew that there was no way to have that kind of organic supermarket in the slums, Bruce went shopping for a long time, and finally picked a frying pan, and he tried to bargain for the first time, and then he found out that he was really cheated before.

The ordinary frying pan cost $3, and in the end the bargain was 60 cents, and finally, Bruce left the grocery market with an iron pan and a lot of vegetables, and walked on the back of the road, heavier than Batman.

After that, he went to the slaughterhouse to buy some fresh minced beef, and when he returned to his residence, Bruce did not dare to wash the vegetables with tap water, or even use it to brush the pot, so he could only fill the pot with water, put it on the stove, boil it, pour out the water, and then scrub it carefully, and then boil a pot of boiling water to cool, and use it to wash the vegetables.

By the time the dishes and everything were processed, it was already past lunchtime, and Bruce, who had always been used to eating on time, felt some pain in his stomach.

After starting to fry the beef patty, Bruce was even more uncomfortable, and he didn't know how the kitchen was designed, no matter which direction Bruce stood in the pan, it was a downwind outlet, there was no range hood, and the oil smoke from frying meat was rushing to his face, choking him so much that he couldn't open his eyes.

The stove uses a gas canister, but the knob is in disrepair, the fire is not well controlled, a handful of spinach leaves are sprinkled, stewed for half an hour and not cooked, potato slices are thrown in, and the pot is pasted in two minutes.

Bruce is not very good at cooking, and being able to cook dishes is already considered his talent, and he really can't grasp this kind of fire that is closer to metaphysics.

When eating

After eating a meal for more than an hour, the sun was setting, and he had just finished lunch, and when he brushed the pots and dishes, he couldn't open his eyes by the afterglow of the sunset.

Before that, he had never thought that he was such a hypocritical person, he felt that his willpower was very strong, he could run a kilometer after being shot twice, tried countless pains, and was still willing to step on the battlefield.

Such a great hero never thought that he would be defeated by mundane trivialities.

He didn't think that he didn't want to cry because of the wounds left by the vicious criminals, but choked on tears by the fireworks of the world hidden in the twilight light.

The bat fell headlong to the bottom of the cliff, only to find that there was no huge battle to be fought here, and the biggest enemy he had to face was the small and trivial but ubiquitous unsatisfactory, which was not difficult, but if he took a wrong step, he would no longer have the strength to save the situation.

After eating, Bruce sat on the small balcony in the living room, listening to the drunks upstairs, the quarrels between the husband and wife downstairs, smelling the stench of the garbage trucks on the street, feeling the stomach juice gushing, and quietly watching a sunset here.

At this moment, he suddenly felt that he was being liberated, which no amount of psychotherapy could achieve.

Because here, the loss of their parents can be very sad, but they don't have much time to grieve because they have to go to work, pay rent, buy groceries, cook, go to the market, eat, sleep, and take out the garbage.

Sadness, grievances, entanglements, nostalgia, it is best to compress them into a few days, if they are like Batman, they are entangled for ten years, and they may starve to death.

Only bats hanging high in the attic have time to imagine themselves as avengers in the dark, humans standing on the ground, just thinking about what to eat tomorrow.