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🕑 Added 2025-06-15 16:13:36 +0000 UTCChapter 112: Gotham's Past
Could Maroni beat Falcone within the rules of the criminal underworld?
Tough, really tough.
But what about within the rules of the legitimate world?
Still tough – but with his help, the jury wouldn't just be Falcone's personal echo chamber anymore. If the Godfather could manipulate them, Maroni could too. Just like Richard Daniel, who was threatened by the Godfather into passing bank resolutions, then warned by Batman to stop helping the Godfather, and finally just up and quit.
Yeah, Richard's resignation? That was a tag-team effort by the Godfather and Batman.
And Maroni's threats could work just as well. He could lean on folks throughout Gotham's entire justice system.
Harvey Dent, like Bruce Wayne, was originally pretty against messing with court proceedings. But that freaky guy in the wheelchair said a few things to them.
"For a clean cop to go up against a corrupt one, you gotta be smarter than the corrupt one. Falcone's already rigged the game. Harvey doesn't have the power to fix the rules, and he still wants to charge headfirst following them. That's not being righteous or brave, that's being rigid, refusing to think. You'll just smash yourselves against a wall, and who's left to clean up the mess?"
"Even kids learning to ride a bike need a grown-up to steady them. Why do you expect Gotham to just get back on track by itself with no help?"
"Father, do we really have to help Harvey Dent?"
Back at the manor, Sal Maroni felt safe and sound now, and actually asked Luigi this question. "The Holiday Killer is gone. We don't need to keep working with those guys."
"The Holiday Killer is Roman's son. Falcone is our enemy. Harvey Dent and Batman saved our lives," Luigi countered. "We're talking about loyalty and favors here, Sal. Having allies who want to take on Falcone with us? That's a good thing. Even if we have to go to war later, it'll be after we deal with Falcone."
"... " Maroni was silent for a moment, thinking about something, before slowly nodding.
"Yes, Father."
Meanwhile, Alberto, who had been captured by the group, was also confused.
"I don't get it. How did you know it was me?" he asked. "I can understand you suspecting me, but how could you be sure?"
"Your targets were too obvious," Batman answered coldly.
"Except for your own case, pretty much all the other cases were aimed at Maroni, or were beneficial to Roman. Plus, your body was never found," Cody added. "We figured you thought about finding a doctor to fake your death certificate, but in the end, you decided to just disappear to avoid one more person knowing your secret."
"But that's just suspicion."
"And your shooting."
"My shooting isn't very good."
"In all the shooting ranges in Gotham, your scores were bad," Batman replied. "But you didn't train your shooting in Gotham."
Alberto was stunned.
"You got a scholarship to Harvard and went on to Oxford for further study. Falcone doesn't have influence in Massachusetts, and definitely not in Oxford, England. You could completely alter your records at all the Gotham shooting ranges, but in the ranges in those two cities, your shooting records are clearly displayed on the leaderboard."
Batman actually went all the way to England to verify this possibility? That really surprised Alberto.
"I didn't expect anyone to be that persistent – no wonder the Gotham vigilante's style of doing things has changed lately."
At this point, Gordon and Harvey instinctively looked at the freaky guy in the wheelchair beside them.
"Why are you looking at me? Alberto's lucky today. If I'd caught him by myself, he wouldn't show his face to commit another crime for the rest of his life."
With that, Cody sped off on his "ghost fire" wheelchair and vanished around the corner, leaving the "Gotham Iron Triangle" looking at each other, and Alberto instinctively covering his backside.
"He..."
"Let him go," Harvey shook his head. "Let's get the Holiday Killer locked up first. We have important stuff to do this afternoon."
"Mr. Bruce Wayne has very sincerely arranged a meeting."
The afternoon weather was still cool. Although Gotham was entering summer, the thick cloud cover blocking the sun and the cool rain from last night had pretty much taken away most of today's stuffiness.
At Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth was serving tea to the guests.
"About my father and Roman's father, their feud goes way back," Bruce Wayne said, recalling the event and slowly narrating it to Harvey and Gordon. "I vaguely remember it was pouring rain in Gotham that day too..."
Knock, knock, knock!
Someone was pounding desperately on the gates of Wayne Manor. Their actions were so frantic, you could tell just by listening that they were incredibly anxious.
The manor gates were opened, and Thomas Wayne looked at the person outside, letting out a gasp of surprise.
"Good heavens!"
The person outside had a fierce face with a cruel look in their eyes, but at this moment, they were soaked through by the heavy rain, and the despair on their face far outweighed the ferocity. In their arms, they were dragging a young man.
Bright red blood stained half of the young man's body. Rain mixed with the blood on his face, dripping onto the ground one by one. It was clear his condition wasn't good.
Thomas, of course, recognized who they were. Vincent Falcone, the notorious head of the Falcone family in Gotham City. Besides Luigi Maroni, you couldn't find another criminal heavyweight with as much power and influence in Gotham.
And the young man in his arms, who resembled him, was naturally his son, Carmine Falcone.
"Look what they did to my boy!" Vincent accused, grief-stricken and furious.
"Alfred, quickly! Bring my medical bag!"
Thomas helped Vincent support the unconscious young man into the house. Perhaps out of fear that his son couldn't be saved, or perhaps too flustered and needing an outlet for his emotions, Vincent kept talking.
"You have a child too, right? Dr. Wayne? You can understand a father's feelings, right?"
Thomas didn't answer him, just placed the young man on the long dining table by the fireplace, used a towel to wipe the water and blood from his face and body, and carefully examined the five bullet wounds on his chest.
"This man should be taken to the hospital," he said, opening his medical bag and trying to persuade Vincent. "I can't..."
"No, we can't take him to the hospital," Vincent insisted, grinding his teeth and rejecting the doctor's suggestion. "If I take him to any public place – that animal Luigi Maroni will kill him for sure!"
For the sake of his son, this powerful criminal kingpin lowered his head at this moment.
"Dr. Wayne, you can name your price, I just beg you..."
"Save him."
Chapter 113: Father's Day
In the driving rain of a late Gotham City night, most people were already asleep, but the lights were still on at Wayne Manor.
Thomas Wayne rolled up his sleeves and used a scalpel and forceps to extract a bullet from a young man's chest. As an experienced old doctor, his hands were precise and steady, and he worked extremely fast.
And high up on the grand spiral staircase in the main hall, a child was lying prone, peeking through the gaps in the banister at the scene below. He watched the doctor perform surgery on the young man, saw the bullets being taken out one by one, the blood vessels being sutured, and the bleeding stopped.
My father always has work, he thought. As soon as the phone rings, he has to go to the emergency room. People need him; he has no other choice—and I'd never seen my father work before.
He watched silently, eyes wide, as a life was saved by Thomas's hands, as if seeing a fairy waving a magic wand in a storybook.
"I know you know who I am," Thomas said. "I'm a Wayne, and I'm also a doctor. I heal the sick and save lives; it's my calling."
"I wouldn't extort a father by threatening his son's life, but I also don't want to deal with the underworld."
Vincent didn't mind the doctor's distant attitude. Seeing his son's condition improving little by little only made him want to make friends with this talented and virtuous Dr. Thomas even more.
"I know you're a wealthy man," he replied. "But I, Vincent Falcone, am a man of power. And sometimes, a powerful friend can be worth more than all the wealth in the world."
"I genuinely didn't do this for any reward from you."
"Everyone wants something, don't they, Doctor?"
"Now, I finally realized who he saved that night."
Bruce put down the teacup in his hand and said to Gordon and Harvey, "He saved the man who is the Roman today, Carmine Falcone—he tried to do something good for Gotham, but it was what he did that night that led to me facing this scrutiny today."
Harvey and Gordon looked at Bruce, who was seriously recalling his father. They had never thought the publicly known playboy would have this side to him.
"..." Harvey listened to Bruce's statement, falling silent for a moment before looking up to ask, "Then why did Gotham Bank approve the collaboration agreement with Falcone Imports?"
"Gotham Bank is controlled by the board, and the board only cares about profit," Bruce shook his head. "When everyone supported that resolution, I realized my control over Wayne Enterprises wasn't enough yet—this won't happen a second time."
"So, Thomas Wayne didn't accept any form of reward from Vincent Falcone, and you have no relationship with Carmine Falcone?"
"Exactly."
Hearing this answer, Harvey's expression became more serious.
"Then why didn't your father report this crime? If he had, Luigi Maroni would have been brought to justice much earlier, Vincent Falcone would have been investigated as well, and Gotham City wouldn't have fallen into the Roman's hands."
Bruce looked up at the increasingly agitated Harvey, knowing it was out of righteous indignation, so he didn't mind his temper or hostility. However, Alfred spoke up from the side.
"Perhaps Master Wayne did write a report, but Gotham at that time was different from today. The Gotham City Police Department, even the District Attorney's office, was rife with corruption."
"Just a few months later, that heartbreaking event happened. The most upright man I knew, in Crime Alley, by a gunman..."
Alfred shook his head. "I know Luigi didn't have the guts to lay a hand on Master Wayne, but precisely because of that, his passing is all the more heartbreaking. I don't know how much better Gotham is today compared to then, but I think, to accuse him of not doing enough would be a bit too disrespectful."
Harvey and Gordon exchanged glances. Harvey thought of Vernon, and Police Commissioner Gordon thought of certain police officers in the department who had questionable ties to the Falcone family.
Gotham might have changed, but perhaps the change wasn't big enough, and the culprit wasn't Thomas Wayne.
"Mr. Wayne, I apologize," Harvey stood up and sighed. "Perhaps my preconceptions have caused quite a few problems—I won't trouble you further today. Goodbye."
"I understand your sense of justice," Bruce also stood up and replied. "Regardless, the Waynes will have no further dealings with the Falcones from now on."
Gordon had worked in Gotham for many years and had a good impression of the Wayne family. Seeing the misunderstanding cleared up, he felt relieved. However, Alfred's words just now made him feel a bit uncomfortable. With a complicated feeling, he also replied, "Goodbye."
Outside the Roman's apartment, the figure of a cat was hidden in the night.
Selina had a machine next to her. She used binoculars to observe Falcone in the room, while the machine automatically played what the people in the room were saying.
A lip-reading machine could decipher speech by recognizing the movements of a person's lips; it only required seeing the other person's mouth. This was a more covert remote surveillance method than a wiretap.
Sofia held a beautifully wrapped gift box, but Falcone across from her stood up and walked towards the door.
"I have some business to attend to, daughter. I might be back late."
"I... uh..." The robust Sofia stammered a few words but ultimately said nothing, only handing over the gift box in her hand.
"Sofia?"
"For you—Happy Father's Day."
Falcone unwrapped the gift box and took out a beautiful tie from inside. Based on the fabric, it must have been valuable.
However, as soon as he saw it, Falcone thought of his deceased young son. In fact, after realizing it was Father's Day, he had been restless all day.
"Thank you for the thought."
After only a brief reply, Falcone was unwilling to say more and left the room in a hurry.
Sofia watched her father's retreating back, a look of disappointment on her face.
Catwoman stood quietly in the night, hearing Sofia's low murmur from the speaker next to her. In fact, that was also what she wanted to say.
"Dad..."
Carmine Falcone may not have realized that in his youth, he might have left behind an abandoned illegitimate daughter in the East End.
And Batman may never figure out why he always sees Catwoman around the Roman, and why Catwoman sometimes helps him against Falcone and sometimes prevents him from interrogating him.
Only the cat in the night will continue to silently watch this father who has a bounty on her head, always with complicated feelings.
Elsewhere, Police Commissioner Gordon also returned home after dusk today. Although the Holiday Killer had been caught, based on Batman's suggestion, Gordon hadn't brought him back to the precinct. Instead, Batman had taken him into temporary custody, so there was no extra work for the time being. If he hadn't habitually worked late organizing the Holiday Killer's case files, he might have gotten off work a few hours earlier.
But regardless, he didn't have to rack his brain over the Holiday Killer case files tonight; otherwise, he would probably get home late.
"Daddy!"
"James?"
As Gordon entered the house, the smell of cooking drifted from the living room. His five-year-old eldest son immediately shot out of his room, his two short legs churning like mad, and he launched himself into his father's arms.
"Oh—James, you're getting too heavy. One day I won't be able to pick you up anymore. Even now, my old back is starting to give out a bit."
His wife, Barbara, also came out from inside, smiling as she said, "Little James has been looking forward to you coming home all day. He prepared a gift for you."
"A gift? What gift?"
"This!"
After being put back down on the ground by Police Commissioner Gordon, little James immediately held out the gift box in his hand to him. His little face was red, and his expression seemed a bit shy, but also a little proud. "Mommy and I made it for you! Happy Father's Day, Daddy!"
Facing his son's expectant eyes, Police Commissioner Gordon accepted the gift box with a smile. "I knew little James was so excited today. Good boy, Daddy thanks you."
He took a tie out of the gift box. The fabric was ordinary, the embroidery was careful, and it wasn't the usual grid or solid color pattern. It had small handprint patterns all over it, clearly made by a pair of plump child's hands.
"Ah, yes, yes. I can tell you and your mother must have been busy for a while."
Gordon smiled and ruffled his son's messy blonde curls, then immediately took off the tie around his own neck and tied this somewhat strange-looking tie around it.
"This is the best gift a father could receive on Father's Day. Thank you, James."
Wearing the tie, he walked into the living room with James in his arms.
No mistakes, one-by-one delivery within one section!
Harvey Dent returned home a bit later. He didn't have much going on today, only a trip to the prison.
"Harvey, welcome home."
"I'm back, Gilda."
Entering the door, Harvey casually took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack. He reached into his jacket pocket, took out a coin, and fiddled with it in his hand as he walked into the room.
Gilda noticed the strange coin and couldn't help but look at it curiously. "Harvey, is this?"
"Oh, I went to the prison to see my dad today."
"Ah? How is he?"
"Same as always, still that bastard. But, he did give me something." Harvey showed the coin in his hand to Gilda. "Look, one side is normal, the other side is burned."
Gilda looked at the coin, and an uncomfortable feeling rose from the bottom of her heart for no reason.
"He told me that in this damn place called Gotham, even the courts are like a coin. Evidence, truth, justice, they're all irrelevant. So the outcome of a trial is like flipping a coin: heads you win, tails you lose—people only flip a coin when deciding something unimportant."
"The part that truly determines the outcome of a trial is already decided outside the courtroom."
"Harvey, you..."
"Don't worry, Gilda." Harvey gently patted his wife's hand. "I told my old man he was right, but if the courtroom really is a coin, it should be an orderly coin, an important coin, a coin no one dares to take lightly."
"So, I did a few things today, met some people, and listened to some advice, and then I understood that I haven't done enough, nowhere near enough."
Harvey flicked his thumb, a crisp sound rang out, and the shining coin flew high, then landed back in his palm.
"I told him that one day, all the villains in Gotham City will have to watch helplessly as the law flips this coin, and their lives and deaths will hang on it—no bribed judges, no manipulated juries; only law, only cause and effect."
Harvey Dent walked to the window, flipping the coin faster and faster in his hand. He suddenly turned sideways and smiled gently at Gilda.
"If retribution doesn't come, he'll need to be careful—"
"Because I'll be coming for him."
Boom!
A sudden peal of thunder exploded over Gotham. In that instant, the city lights began to flicker.
The light in the room suddenly vanished, and everything plunged into temporary darkness. The only light source left was the lightning outside the window.
In that second, half of Harvey's body was brilliantly lit by the dazzling lightning, while the other half was swallowed by the deep darkness.
Gilda looked at her husband before her, momentarily speechless. But the next moment, the lights in the room came back on, and light enveloped them again. The Harvey from moments ago seemed to have vanished.
At Wayne Manor, Bruce gazed at the portraits of his parents, the rainy night constantly replaying in his mind.
"If my father hadn't saved the Roman... all those lost lives in Gotham, the cypress trees beside the graves..."
"Allow me a word, Master Bruce. No matter who came knocking, your father would not have let them die—that was his way."
"I can't help but imagine the possibility, what things would be like if he had made a different choice..."
Alfred fell silent, looking at the portraits. How was Batman not the same? He struck down criminals again and again but never took a life. No matter who the person in front of him was, he would save their life without hesitation.
If Batman killed, then ninety-nine percent of Gotham's criminals would never have the chance to do evil again—but he would never choose that path.
He walked out of the room and saw Bruce sitting on the high spiral staircase in the hall, looking down through the gaps in the banister.
"I... I just miss him, Alfred—am I being ridiculous?"
Bruce didn't turn around, but Alfred could vaguely see tear streaks on his face by the moonlight.
"No, Master Bruce." Alfred gently placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder. Under the calm moonlight, Bruce's back gradually overlapped with the image of Dr. Thomas in Alfred's memory.
"You are very much your father's son."
At the shelter for homeless children, Cody, Grundy, and Jason sat among a group of kids, sharing cookies and watching cartoons on an old television.
"Hey Mr Cody, these cookies are really good."
"Heh heh—this is the secret recipe the old butler taught me. Not everyone gets to eat these."
"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday..."
Chapter 114: Everyone Around Me Is Mine, How Can You Fight Me?
Even though he didn't get any jobs on Father's Day, Cody didn't have any complaints. His asset points were steadily increasing, and he had time and money to furnish the kids' shelter with old TVs, furniture, blackboards, paper, pens, and other supplies.
One thing he hadn't anticipated was the kids' unusually high acceptance of Solomon. He had originally considered building a wooden cabin in the woods if the children weren't willing to live with Solomon, and letting Solomon live there—after all, with his Intermediate Physical Enhancement, he could build it quickly.
Thankfully, the street kids of Gotham were like newborn calves unafraid of tigers. Growing up alone in a city like this meant they quickly got used to the big guy's greenish-white skin and unsettling appearance, and some even became friends with him!
They communicated using body language, and the big guy seemed quite happy about it.
Cody was happy too. With Solomon around, the children's safety was guaranteed. Anyone with malicious intent who showed up would surely meet their end—Cody wasn't Batman, he didn't care if Solomon went too far. In fact, according to his simple moral code, anyone who laid a hand on children deserved to die.
His monthly salary also arrived as usual, but the news that the Maronis, father and son, had been shot eventually got out. Because of this, many people started suspecting that Cody wasn't special at all, but that Maroni himself was simply a target.
According to his supervisor, the higher-ups weren't approving the budget. If he wanted to earn money next month, he'd have to personally bring back evidence of substantial damage caused to the Maroni family—as for going back to his old job, that was definitely out of the question.
Cody was now on the Falcone family's list. All Falcone businesses would basically reject his job applications.
"How petty, unwilling to even give me six months of paid leave..." Cody sighed.
Was his time as a salary thief finally coming to an end?
But calculating his savings, he already had over two hundred thousand. Besides the portion he still needed to buy things for the kids, the remaining money was enough to settle down for now. He still had over eighty thousand asset points left, too. Actually,
He could really open a small business using his cooking skills to earn money now.
Of course, opening a business in Gotham also carried risks, but he could handle that kind of risk now.
[Ding]
Just as Cody was planning his next step, the system's notification sound suddenly rang out, temporarily interrupting his thoughts.
[You have a new gig available, please check]
[Drafty District Attorney's Office Task Description: Once bitten, twice shy. After realizing Vernon was Maroni's man and hearing about Dr. Thomas's past, Harvey decided to conduct further surveillance on his bribed colleague and the seemingly cooperative mob boss. After all, in this drafty District Attorney's office, the good guys have to be craftier than the bad guys.
Note: Harvey Dent knows nothing about hacking, but he immediately thought of that reliable friend who had previously deleted hospital surveillance footage and blocked phone taps.
Status: Pending (0/2)
Reward: If undetected, gain Advanced Computer Mastery. For each target detected, reduce mastery level by one.]
"Hmm, sounds pretty good..." Cody rubbed his chin. "And wiretapping isn't dangerous work. Plus, it's listening in on Maroni. If I actually hear some juicy news, maybe I can even go back to being a salary thief for the Falcones."
"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down..."
His phone rang. Cody looked at the caller ID; it was Prosecutor Harvey.
"Ha, speak of the devil."
"Hello? Prosecutor Harvey?"
"Mr Cody, I have something I want to ask you about. How about coming over for dinner after I get off work?"
"No problem, just call me when you're done."
A few days after Cody met with Harvey, Maroni was suddenly moved into a single cell with quite good conditions and declared that he would testify in court against all of Falcone's crimes. The Roman made no response to this development.
On this day, Harvey went to the prison to talk with Maroni.
"Mr. Maroni, accusing Falcone is a very dangerous thing—I didn't expect you'd be willing to step up and do it yourself."
"Aren't you quite happy about this, Mr. Harvey?"
Maroni, wearing a suit and sitting on the bed, sneered at Harvey Dent outside the bars. "If that son of a bitch Falcone hadn't gone too far, I wouldn't step into the ring to fight him myself—speaking of which, Prosecutor Harvey, if after I finish testifying against Falcone, I find out you still want to use this to investigate and prosecute me—then I'd advise you to put away those petty intentions. With just your energy, you can't take down the Maroni family."
Harvey smiled and replied, "Mr. Maroni, you might still dare to speak to me so brazenly now, but you'll need to be more careful later—this room has surveillance. It will start operating tomorrow.
After all, the trial is coming up soon, it's impossible for there to be no surveillance measures here. This is also for your own safety—well then, Mr. Maroni, I'll see you next time."
The brief conversation ended there. Harvey turned and left. Watching the main door close, Maroni lay back down on the bed.
About half an hour later.
Creak—The prison door opened again, and a blonde figure wearing a high-quality suit walked into the prison and approached Maroni's bars.
"Mr. Maroni, did you have any instructions today?"
Maroni opened his eyes and turned his head to see Vernon's fawning face, immediately revealing a smug smile.
What District Attorney's office? What prosecutors? Just dogs who can be bought, that's all. From start to finish, Harvey Dent has been alone, rushing headfirst down the one-way street called justice.
"Vernon, I'm touched that you've kept coming to see me these days, but there's one thing that's really bothering me."
"Mr. Maroni, you just need to give the order, and I'll do my best to solve your problem."
"Excellent, Vernon, excellent—do you see the camera in that corner? Harvey Dent told me today it will be activated tomorrow, but I don't believe him. Go find out for me who is in charge of monitoring and inspecting my room, and see if that camera has already been activated."
"I think the correctional officers will surely become friends with me, just like you became friends with me. Do you understand?"
"Leave it all to me, Mr. Maroni."
Maroni pulled out a cigarette, and Vernon tactfully pulled out a nice lighter and lit it for him. His servile manner made Maroni feel somewhat amused.
"Nice lighter, where'd you get it?"
"Harvey Dent gave it to me. He said I worked very hard."
"Heh." Maroni took a leisurely drag of his cigarette. "That fool fancies himself smart, but even now, he doesn't know anything about you."
"When everyone around him is mine, how can he possibly fight me?"
Chapter 115: Scarecrow and Mad Hatter
While Vernon was talking with Maroni, down in Harvey's basement, Harvey was quietly listening on his phone.
"Even the people around him are mine. What's he going to fight me with?"
The clear voice came from the phone. Every word Maroni and Vernon said was reproduced perfectly by the bug.
A smile appeared on Harvey's face. When he heard Maroni ask Vernon to check the surveillance feed, he knew the guy had taken the bait. He actually believed what Harvey had told him, thinking that camera was the only remote surveillance device in the room.
Who would have thought that District Attorney Harvey Dent would set something like this up for a temporary ally? Obvious surveillance, hidden eavesdropping – this kind of two-faced method was completely unlike Harvey's usual style, making it incredibly deceptive right now.
Meanwhile, Cody, who was cooking dinner at home, was also listening to Maroni and Vernon's conversation through his earphones.
Naturally. Even though Harvey did his own eavesdropping, Cody obviously kept his own recording. After all, this was about whether his "salary thief" life could continue.
"I just feel like Harvey seems a little different," he thought quietly. "Using the legitimate legal system to prosecute criminals, and then using shady, special methods to counter the mob's out-of-bounds tactics that manipulate the justice system... Weird. Did I actually succeed in preventing Two-Face's birth?"
Everyone was busy, and the other two members of the "Golden Iron Triangle" weren't slacking either.
In the Gotham night, an unusually bright, super-powerful spotlight shot into the dark sky. What was particularly noticeable was the silhouette of a bat in the exact center of the beam.
The bright column of light soared into the clouds, hitting the sky directly above Gotham City. You could see this massive bat symbol, a combination of light and shadow, from almost any block in the city. After so many years, it had practically become part of Gotham. Everyone was used to it; everyone knew it was a special way to contact Batman – Batman -Signal.
Whenever this light was turned on, you just needed to stand next to it and wait. In just a moment, Batman of the night would appear behind you.
However, most people weren no mood to bother with this urban legend. Ordinary folks didn't believe that the violent vigilante who liked breaking bones and dismembering people would be friendly to them. Naturally, they didn't dare turn on the light as a joke. The few divine beings who dared to use it for fun had all met Batman, but they were scared out of their wits.
Therefore, the people who used this light most often were really only two: District Attorney Harvey Dent and Commissioner Gordon.
"We've been searching non-stop during this time. Every available officer in the GCPD has been looking for Scarecrow and the Riddler, but..."
Commissioner Gordon stood next to the massive Bat-Signal, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand. "...absolutely no leads on either of them. Can't even catch a shadow."
Batman stood in the shadows nearby and responded to Commissioner Gordon. "Riddler was scared by the Holiday Killer. Until we announce he's been caught, he'll keep himself hidden carefully and won't dare to do anything else."
"But Scarecrow... someone threw him a lifeline, helped him escape. So, either someone wants to use him for something, or he wants to do something himself and found someone to help."
"Either way, that's big trouble for us," Gordon waved his hand. "Hope they don't pull an Alberto and cause some kind of chaos on this upcoming Independence Day... I'm done talking. Got anything...
Batman? Are you even listening to me?"
After a few seconds of silence, Commissioner GordonStubbed out his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, then casually turned off Batman -Signal and headed downstairs.
Waiting for a response? No point. After dealing with Batman for so long, Gordon knew his routine perfectly: once he had nothing more to say, he'd just disappear.
And he never said goodbye.
Sofia had been a little confused since Father's Day.
Falcone had become somewhat mysterious lately, and no one in the family knew what the Roman was really busy with. As his daughter, Sofia felt this most strongly. On Father's Day, she had given her father a tie, and the Godfather had just said thank you after receiving it before leaving in a hurry.
Was her father's strange behavior because of Alberto's death? Sofia wasn't sure, but her father definitely seemed to have something going on, because he hadn't been spending much time at the family estate these past few days and was constantly going out.
Until today, when she looked out the window and saw the inconspicuous car carrying her father disappear around the corner. Clearly, he really didn't want to attract attention.
The car gradually disappeared from Sofia's sight. It drove through several blocks, making numerous twists and turns for half an hour before the driver finally spoke.
"Mr. Falcone, we're clear of any tail."
"Good. We'll go to that place."
Falcone looked through the dark one-way glass as the scenery outside gradually changed, finally arriving at the abandoned facility area in Gotham Central Park.
No one ever came here, so the Godfather got out of the car and walked inside the abandoned facility. Soon, he heard a sound.
"Make a cake, make a cake, baker's man~"
An off-key singing voice echoed inside the facility, singing the children's nursery rhyme "Pat-a-Cake." It wasn't very pleasant to listen to, and in the empty facility, it sounded more like a ghost or spirit singing.
And if you saw the creepy scarecrow singing next to a small, red-hot stove, that feeling of horror would likely intensify.
Falcone walked further in step by step, and the singing became clearer. However, besides the Scarecrow's singing, there was another person's voice here.
"Put it in the oven for Batman and... and some... tea?"
The Scarecrow's singing stopped abruptly. He turned his head and saw a small figure, a dwarf, standing behind him wearing a green suit, holding a tray with tea – and the most striking thing was the ridiculously tall hat on his head. It was so big it looked like a prop from a fairy tale play.
There was a paper tag on the large hat with "10/6" written on it – clearly, this was the image of the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland.
The dwarf seemed largely unfazed by the Scarecrow's unfriendly gaze. He carefully picked up a teacup,
And scurried over to the Scarecrow on his short legs.
"Care for some tea?"
(End of Chapter)
