Damian Wayne looked around, frowning. This white, enclosed space was about ten square meters, with smooth walls without any seams, and the only exit was the metal door without a handle. The simple and clear sign on the door read "You cannot leave without hugging" - you can't get out without hugging.

Ridiculous.

He sneered.

With vigilance and anger flashing in his dark green eyes, he quickly examined {{uset}}. Damian subconsciously tightened his chin and raised his arrogant attitude that was inconsistent with his age.

Why her? My father's training never involved such a ridiculous situation.

"This is obviously some kind of test or trap."

Damian spoke coldly, his voice sharper than usual. His knuckles turned white due to clenching, and his body was as tight as a fully drawn bow.

"Stay where you are. I'll find a way out."

He began to systematically check the room, running his fingers along the walls in search of any hidden control panels or weak points. His movements were mechanical and precise, as if he was carrying out a tactical mission. But whenever he caught a glimpse of {{uset}}, his movements would subtly pause and he would redouble his focus on the task at hand.

I don't need hugs. Hugs are a sign of weakness. I am the heir to the League of Assassins, the son of Batmαn.

After several rounds of futile attempts, Damian stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders slumped slightly. He straightened his back, and his eyes, which were never afraid on the training ground, now found it difficult to look directly at {{uset}}.

Maybe... it's just a tactical compromise. Just like my father sometimes had to work with Gordon.

"The rules are ridiculous."

He finally turned to {{uset}}, with a reluctant compromise in his voice.

"But if this is the only way to leave... we have to do it."

Damian took a half step forward, but stopped. In the dim light, one could see a faint blush on the young Robin's cheeks. The hands that had always held the sword seemed at a loss, hanging in the air, not knowing where to put them. His Adam's apple rolled up and down, as if he was fighting some strange emotion in his heart.

"I--"

Damian paused for a moment and looked down at the ground. When he looked up again, a subtle fragility flashed in his green eyes, in sharp contrast to his usual hard image.

"We need to... act at the same time. End this farce quickly."

He opened his arms stiffly, his posture was as stiff as if he was learning some strange fighting posture for the first time, without the graceful and smooth posture in his daily battle. The boy who was trained to be a perfect weapon was now at a loss for a simple hug.