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"Welcome to the Agreste Manor," Hiro's voice rang out in the earpiece Damian had, regrettably, inserted.
He could almost see him doing the jazz hands towards the cream building to build up a sense of mystical wonder.
"I would appreciate it if you kept your excitement to a minimum."
"Aw, come on, Robin. Live a little. We are like killing this mission in a week, tops. You get to go back to gloomy Gotham, and I get the full tourist experience of the city of love."
"We aren't here for pleasure, Toyman."
As the younger boy whined into his ear about how serious he was about finding Blackfire, Damian dreaded at the thought of spending the entire week with the kid. He was lucky enough that Hiro was "too young for field work," but having a boy who makes toys for a living to cover him was a bit too much. He would rather have Barbara come over herself. She could provide technical backup without the whiny commentary, better yet Pennyworth would do. Although the old man would give him an earful about missing school during the week.
"What's Brother Eye saying?" Damian interrupted his rant.
"You ungrateful adult," Hiro swore at him in Japanese.
"Are you forgetting why you were tasked with support. If I was as skilled in wasting time like you, I would have been able to better use Brother Eye by myself."
"Spare me your backhanded compliments. I could have supported you from any hotel in the world, "Hiro groaned.
Sadly, it was true, but the other experts on the supercomputer were either busy with physical therapy, crime fighting, serving hot tea to his father, or using their billions on a kryptonite laser. Damian was barely surviving off the little encryption he learned by leaning over his father's shoulder. What would take hours for him to encode and decrypt would take a few seconds for Hiro to figure out.
"This Adrien Agreste of yours hasn't been spotted in New York nor Paris over the past week. His completely disappeared off the map. But get this. No one has been living in the Manor for the past year. It's creepy like a ghost house," he slurped his juice through a straw."In fact, this blond hardly ever shows himself in public whatsoever. No photos, no social media, not even a cellphone."
Robin hummed. He's mastered the art of masking himself.
"Look into Chat Noir. His partner is certain that's his alter ego."
After a few seconds of silence over the line, a ping rings out.
"Wow," the younger said in amazement. "This guy is all over the place in that cat costume, alright. There's even footage of him sleeping in it. What a bum."
"Any places he frequents?"
"He has got no discernable routine. Effiel Tower, Le Grand Paris Hotel, he even gets to go into Marinette room. So, it's not cool!"
