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🕑 Added 2025-05-23 17:40:34 +0000 UTCChapter 298: Dr. House
Medical Center.
News spread rapidly throughout the hospital that Adam had come up with a solution, which was recognized by Dr. Sheppard, and that he would be joining an advanced neurosurgery procedure in the afternoon.
The surgical interns, who had just started studying Katie’s medical records and were preparing to make their own breakthroughs, were left completely stunned upon hearing this news.
Even the most well-educated among them could only express their shock with a single expletive.
Green Clinic.
"Well done!"
Leonard had also received the news. Around noon, he called Adam over, his face beaming with delight.
Everyone in the hospital knew who had connections and who had been brought in through personal relationships—it was no secret.
For example, the surgical director’s incompetent brother-in-law worked in the hospital’s administrative department, often embarrassing the surgical director.
But out of respect for the director, most people in the hospital turned a blind eye as long as things didn’t get out of hand.
Although Adam’s relationship with Leonard wasn’t as blatant, it was clear to everyone that Adam was one of Leonard’s people.
If Adam failed, people would undoubtedly accuse Leonard of favoritism.
But if Adam proved to be exceptionally talented, it would also bring Leonard a great deal of prestige.
"Burke is probably going to be upset again," Leonard said with a schadenfreude-filled smile.
"Why?" Adam asked, puzzled.
"Sheppard was once a renowned physician in Boston," Leonard explained. "Do you know why he came to the Medical Center?"
"Family reasons?" Adam guessed. "Or career-related?"
"I don’t know about any family reasons," Leonard said with a chuckle. "But in a few years, Richard is set to retire."
"You mean Dr. Sheppard is here to compete for the position of Surgical Director?" Adam suddenly understood. "Dr. Burke was originally the only candidate for the role, but now a strong competitor has appeared—and that competitor just successfully solved a difficult medical case…"
"Guess who invited Sheppard here?" Leonard asked with an amused expression.
"The Surgical Director!" Adam blurted out.
"Exactly!" Leonard praised. "Adam, how did you figure that out?"
"The only people with the authority to invite Dr. Sheppard are the Surgical Director, the Dean, or members of the hospital’s board of directors," Adam analyzed. "I haven’t had much interaction with the Dean or the board, but I can tell that the Surgical Director isn’t the type to willingly relinquish power.
"I’ve also heard that in recent years, Dr. Burke’s reputation has been growing, and everyone assumed he would be the next Surgical Director—even he believed it. But the current director still has several years before retirement."
"Retirement?" Leonard scoffed. "The hospital and the surgical department are his entire life. Here, he has control over everything. Do you think he can handle such a drastic change? I bet he can’t even bear the thought of it.
"When the time comes, even if Burke is ready to take over, the director might not step down. As long as his health allows and the board doesn’t force him to retire, he could keep working indefinitely."
"So, he brought in Dr. Sheppard to create competition and keep Burke in check. That way, his own position remains secure," Adam concluded.
This kind of power play had been repeated countless times throughout history between emperors, crown princes, and royal family members.
"But isn’t Dr. Burke one of the director’s people?" Adam was still a bit confused.
"Sheppard is also one of Richard’s people," Leonard explained. "Richard mentored him, and they have a close relationship."
Adam nodded in understanding.
Both candidates were "insiders," so no matter who ultimately got the position, the power would stay within their own circle—just like a royal court maneuver.
"Putting aside Burke’s frustration, this is a great opportunity for you," Leonard said with a smile. "Sheppard is a renowned neurosurgeon. You’ll learn a lot from this advanced surgery, and in the future, it will be even easier for me to get you involved in major procedures."
"I’ll do my best," Adam said with a smile.
They continued chatting for a while, mostly with Leonard explaining the hospital’s complex power dynamics.
Before leaving, Adam suddenly remembered something and asked, "Earlier, Dr. Sheppard mentioned that I reminded him of someone. Leonard, do you know who he meant?"
"Someone you resemble?" Leonard was momentarily stunned. After asking for more details, he immediately blurted out, "Dr. House!"
"Dr. House?" Adam was surprised. "You mean the famous Dr. House?"
"That’s right," Leonard confirmed. "He’s the Head of Diagnostics at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey. He specializes in medical deduction.
"His diagnostics department gets an annual budget of three million dollars, and he personally hires three highly skilled doctors to solve complex medical mysteries.
"Any one of their cases, with a little write-up, could turn into a high-impact medical paper. Anyone who trains under him can easily become a department head in another hospital—it’s a dream opportunity for many doctors."
"What are the requirements for getting in?" Adam asked, intrigued.
"Interns and residents can apply as assistants, and attending physicians can also join if they’re highly capable," Leonard said with a smile. "But it all depends on Dr. House’s interest.
"He’s known for being eccentric, but with your talent, if you applied, you’d likely get in. That said, I wouldn’t recommend it."
"Why not?" Adam asked curiously. "Is there a problem?"
He knew Leonard wouldn’t discourage him unless there was a serious issue.
"Of course there’s a problem," Leonard said with a laugh. "Dr. House is brilliant, but he’s also extremely unconventional.
"He’s willing to do whatever it takes to solve medical mysteries—even if it means breaking the rules. He’s been taken to court multiple times and has nearly lost his medical license on several occasions.
"If he weren’t so famous and valuable to the hospital, he would have been fired long ago. Even so, Princeton-Plainsboro sets aside fifty thousand dollars every year just for his legal expenses, in case they need to defend him in court.
"We often joke that Dr. House must be blessed by God—his luck is just that incredible. Any other doctor doing what he does would have been ruined instantly."
After hearing that, Adam immediately dismissed the idea of training under Dr. House.
With his abilities and the platform Leonard provided, he could advance quickly without taking such a risk. There was no need to gamble his medical license for the sake of an internship.
From what Leonard described, Dr. House had all the hallmarks of a "main character."
Adam might also be a protagonist in his own story, but since his life wasn’t being filmed as a TV drama, he wasn’t about to bet on having the same plot armor.
As for just tagging along with House, hoping to learn from him while staying out of trouble?
No way. Even if House had a protagonist’s luck, that only applied to himself. The people around him were the ones who suffered collateral damage.
The risks far outweighed the rewards—Adam would have to be crazy to train under a "main character" like that.
No matter how brilliant Dr. House was, it wasn’t worth considering.
Chapter 299: I Save You, and It Has Nothing to Do With You
Green Clinic.
"Adam, with your abilities, you don’t need to train under Dr. House at all," Leonard reassured him. "Dr. House built his reputation through sheer effort. If he could do it, so can you."
"I know."
Adam nodded with a confident smile.
His confidence was well-founded. After all, he had a system backing him up.
"I heard that your epilepsy patient was nearly transferred to the hospital in New Jersey to see Dr. House because Sheppard couldn’t find the cause of the illness."
Leonard chuckled when he saw that Adam truly didn’t care. "They couldn’t get an appointment with House, so they stayed, and you solved the case. Who knows? Maybe in the future, more patients won’t need to bother Dr. House anymore.
"He often complains that cases aren’t complicated enough to interest him. A lot of the time, it’s his team who takes on cases just to keep themselves busy.
"But imagine—if you keep growing at this rate, there might come a day when there really aren’t any cases left for him. That would be hilarious. I’d love to see that moment."
Dr. House worked at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey, which was still part of the greater New York metropolitan area. The medical community was small, so it wasn’t surprising that Leonard knew about House’s quirks.
"I’ll do my best," Adam said, intrigued by the thought.
It really would be interesting...
"But maybe you’ll never reach House’s level," Leonard said after a laugh, his tone turning serious.
"You mean because I can’t be as crazy as him?" Adam asked knowingly.
With the same level of talent, it all came down to how far one was willing to go.
The phrase "One must embrace madness to achieve greatness" seemed fitting here.
"Exactly."
Leonard posed a hypothetical: "Imagine a group of infants all suffering from the same infection. There are two possible pathogens, but time is critical, and you need to know which one to treat. Would you experiment on one baby to save the others, knowing that one might die but five might live?"
Adam fell silent.
This was one of the most difficult moral dilemmas a doctor could face.
The standard procedure would be to treat all the infants the same way—either they all survive, or they all die. In that case, the doctor bears no direct responsibility.
But if a doctor sacrificed one child to determine the correct treatment, they could save the others. However, that child’s parents would undoubtedly sue, asking: Why was our baby chosen to die while the others lived? No parent would accept that.
"Any normal doctor knows what choice to make," Leonard continued, understanding Adam’s hesitation. "But House? He wouldn’t hesitate. He would experiment on one infant to save the rest. If he weren’t incredibly lucky, do you think he’d still be practicing medicine?"
Adam shook his head.
In the U.S., organizations that protect children’s rights are incredibly powerful—sometimes even terrifying. If such an incident came to light, without extraordinary luck or strong backing, House would be finished.
"And he does things like this all the time," Leonard said with admiration. "His diagnostic skills are incredible, but modern medicine presents countless possible causes for the same symptoms. Even with strong deductive reasoning, there are still cases where the only way to be certain is to test.
"The fastest way to verify a diagnosis is to stop a treatment or switch to a different one. But without solid theoretical backing, this can worsen a patient’s condition or even kill them. It completely disregards standard medical protocols, making it a surefire malpractice case."
"I could never do what he does," Adam admitted with a sigh. "I just don’t have it in me."
This wasn’t just about civil lawsuits—it was often a criminal matter. Without protagonist-level plot armor, the risk of losing in court and going to prison was way too high.
Sacrificing oneself entirely for the sake of patients? That was truly the definition of at any cost.
Adam knew he could never go that far.
If his system didn’t change, he would never surpass Dr. House.
"Someone like him is both terrifying and admirable," Leonard said with a complicated expression. "His reputation has gone beyond the medical field—many people outside the profession know who he is. A lot of people hate him, but even more secretly respect him.
"At the end of the day, he’s a man willing to sacrifice everything to save lives.
"Or maybe," Leonard mused, "he’s just a compulsive, obsessive maniac. Perhaps his need to solve medical mysteries has nothing to do with the patients themselves."
I save you, and it has nothing to do with you.
I just can’t stand not solving the case...
"I’d love the chance to meet him in person," Adam murmured, lost in thought.
Maybe they could even be friends?
House was undoubtedly a genius—one of the best.
He might even be on par with Sheldon Cooper.
And geniuses like that could definitely give Adam a run for his money.
With mixed emotions, Adam left Leonard’s office and returned to the grueling life of an intern. He was looking forward to the neurosurgery scheduled for the afternoon.
Afternoon – Operating Room Observation
A group of interns once again gathered in the observation area whenever they found a spare moment.
"This is getting ridiculous—Adam Duncan again?"
"Well, what do you expect? He’s a genius."
"I heard he’s close with Dr. Green. Do you think Green secretly gave him the answer?"
"Doubt it. Green is a renowned doctor, but he’s not even as famous as Sheppard. Plus, this is neurosurgery, not cardiothoracic surgery. If Sheppard couldn’t figure it out, how could Green?"
"Still, Sheppard did ask for suggestions. Maybe Green had a different perspective and found a solution."
"The problem wasn’t actually that hard—we just didn’t think of it in time. Adam beat us to it, that’s all. No need to be sore about it."
The discussion grew heated, and some started making snide remarks.
It was understandable. As interns, they were struggling to gain favor with attending physicians just to get a chance to observe surgeries. Meanwhile, Adam was already assisting in one procedure after another.
The gap was maddening.
Why does he get to shine so much?!
Fortunately, Meredith and the others, though envious, were still friends with Adam. Besides, his good looks helped keep resentment at bay. They spoke up in his defense, preventing the negativity from getting out of hand.
"Alright, everyone," Dr. Sheppard said as he entered, freshly scrubbed and assisted by a nurse putting on his surgical gown. "Such a beautiful afternoon—perfect for saving lives."
Adam, as the assistant, took his place beside Sheppard, granting him an excellent view of the surgery.
This was one of the main reasons interns scrambled to get into the OR.
The closer the view, the better they could study the attending surgeon’s technique.
"Dr. Duncan," Sheppard called when it was time for the aneurysm resection.
Adam stepped forward as Sheppard worked through the microscope, performing delicate surgery on the tiny nerves. A second microscope allowed Adam to watch every detail up close.
A slow smile spread across Adam’s face.
This felt incredible.
Chapter 300: You’ve Never Been in Love, Have You?
Evening.
Medical Center Cafeteria.
"Adam, how are you so amazing?"
Christina couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer. "Meredith and I just teamed up to head to the library and look up the cause of the illness, but you already figured it out. How did you do it?"
"I looked it up in a book too."
Adam tapped his temple. "I was just lucky to find it right away."
"Are you saying you memorized everything?"
Christina was in disbelief. "All of it?"
"Of course not."
Adam shook his head.
"Phew, I knew it."
Christina let out a breath of relief.
She was a genius herself, holding dual doctorates at a young age, but she didn’t have a photographic memory. Her memory relied on comprehension and hard work.
Medical knowledge was vast like an ocean. Memorizing common cases and treatments was enough to be competent.
Being more knowledgeable meant having read about more cases, remembering the general details, and being able to recognize a condition when encountering it—then looking it up and applying the right treatment. That was considered excellent.
But remembering massive amounts of information, fully understanding it, instantly recalling it when faced with a problem, and integrating that knowledge into practical application? That was beyond what an ordinary genius could do.
That kind of skill was what made Dr. House, that legendary physician from New Jersey, stand out. It’s why he could lead a team of elite specialists, each an expert in their own field, solving the most complex cases.
He practically had all medical knowledge stored in his brain. A single, seemingly insignificant movement from a patient—one that other doctors wouldn’t even notice—was enough for him to deduce the likely illness.
With his vast medical knowledge and extensive experience, he had already thought of every possible diagnosis.
If you were standing on the first floor of medical knowledge, he was on the fifth.
The modern medical system, with its increasing specialization, seemed irrelevant to him.
He was practically a master of all disciplines.
That was why he was so ridiculously brilliant.
After the surgery, Adam had looked into Dr. House’s background and became even more convinced that this was the kind of protagonist you’d only find in a TV show or novel.
Because in real life, people like that simply don’t exist.
Christina was ambitious. She knew all about legendary doctors like House. So when Adam mentioned recalling books in his mind, she instinctively made the connection. Seeing Adam shake his head, she finally relaxed.
If Adam truly had House’s level of genius, then no matter how confident she was, she wouldn't even be able to compete with him. What would be the point?
She might as well just follow behind him and chant "666" in admiration.
Adam understood Christina’s mentality well. That’s why he deliberately left out the part where he could actually recall everything he read and that he had read far more books than most.
If he said it outright, he had a strong suspicion he’d lose a lot of friends.
"You're really lucky," Christina said enviously. "Opportunities like that are so rare."
"Actually, this might not be a bad thing for you."
Adam smiled.
"Oh? How is this a good thing?"
Christina rolled her eyes. "Go on, enlighten me."
"It's simple. If you and Meredith had found the cause instead of me, who would have performed the surgery? The OR only has limited space. Dr. Shepherd wouldn’t have let both of you in."
Adam pointed out, "And if only one of you could go, that would definitely affect your friendship."
"Meredith already said she wouldn’t go."
Christina refuted, "So there was never a conflict."
"Heh."
Adam chuckled.
"What are you laughing at?"
Christina was annoyed.
"You really believe that?"
Adam raised an eyebrow.
"Christina is telling the truth," Meredith’s distinct voice rang out. "I had already said I’d step aside."
"Alright then."
Adam shrugged. "I believe you."
"..."
Meredith's lips twitched.
Could you be any more dismissive?
"Meredith really would give it up."
By this point, Christina was well aware of Meredith and Dr. Shepherd’s complicated situation. She trusted Meredith completely and couldn’t stand Adam’s skepticism. Ignoring Meredith’s protests, she leaned closer and whispered the whole story to Adam.
"That’s it?"
Adam remained unfazed.
(Read the full, unedited version on 69Shuba!)
A surgical intern getting involved with the attending surgeon, who was also the boss’s boss and their teaching physician? Adam had seen it all before.
It was standard practice. This wasn't the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.
If this had happened before he had gained his photographic memory and his ability to visualize complex medical data in his mind, he might have been more bothered by it.
After all, Meredith was a "medical aristocrat," with the department head looking out for her from above and a boyfriend in a senior position giving her preferential treatment below. She was bound to take opportunities that could have been his.
But now? With his exceptional talents, physical advantages, and extensive accumulation of knowledge, Adam was far beyond the level of a typical intern.
Whenever an opportunity arose, he could seize it outright with undeniable skill. Even if Meredith wanted to use connections, she wouldn’t have the chance.
After all, they still had to maintain the illusion of fairness.
"That’s not a big deal?"
Christina was stunned.
"You’ve never been in love, have you?"
Adam looked at her oddly. "Couples bicker all the time. Do you really think it means anything? A little sweet-talking, and it’s all forgotten."
"Unless Dr. Shepherd is a total robot or plans to cut ties with Meredith completely, do you honestly think he’d risk her holding a lifelong grudge by giving this rare surgical opportunity to you instead?"
"…"
Christina was speechless. She felt an existential crisis creeping in as she looked at Meredith differently.
As someone who prioritized logic over emotions, she truly had never been in love.
Of course, that didn’t mean she lacked certain experiences.
In that sense, she and Adam were actually quite alike.
They both kept relationships in a space that was more than friendship but never truly romantic.
Back in Harvard Med, she had even lived with a professor she admired for two or three years.
But when he proposed, she felt nothing and chose to leave.
So in this area, she had very little awareness. It never even crossed her mind that this could be a possibility.
But now? Thinking about it, it made too much sense.
Sure, Meredith might say she was done with Dr. Shepherd, but he was handsome, authoritative, and practically a dream guy. How long could she really keep up the act?
One bright smile from him, and Meredith would probably melt.
And once she did—what choice would she make?
Her rational mind already had the answer.
"I…"
Meredith opened her mouth to argue, but under Adam’s knowing gaze, she hesitated.
Because deep down, she realized Adam had a point.
If that moment came, her emotions would push her to keep her promise to Christina.
But logically, as a surgeon, she knew she couldn't afford to pass up an opportunity like this.
When emotion and reason clashed—who would win?
She didn’t know.
Or rather, she didn’t want to think about it.
Chapter 55: Batman's Such a Jerk
"With friends like this, who needs enemies?"
Cody couldn't remember who said that or about whom, but when he heard the phrase, the first image that popped into his head was the guy standing right in front of him.
And true to form, Batman had proven, time and again, that the saying was his perfect portrait.
Just listen to what he said: three sentences. The first was about monitoring an innocent citizen of Gotham, a poor guy whose wife was seriously ill – that would be Drake. The second was about monitoring his best friend, one of his staunchest allies, Harvey Dent. The third was about Cody himself, who might possibly be the Pumpkin Man.
Does that sound like something a hero would do? Honestly, no, it doesn't. But when you put that kind of behavior on Batman, it instantly makes perfect sense.
To say Cody had any anti-surveillance skills would be pretty outlandish. He was just a regular short story writer. Anything he did, like bugging or signal jamming, relied solely on the built-in software features on his computer and phone. Obviously, those little tricks weren't enough to fool Batman.
He didn't even know when the listening device had been planted on him. And the fact that he couldn't tap into anything was, in itself, the most obvious problem.
"Where'd you plant the bug?"
"It got burned up in the fire."
Bullshit. You couldn't believe a word Batman said.
"Since you're already on to me, hiding it won't do any good, right?"
Cody gave a self-deprecating laugh, vowing silently to stay out of other people's business from now on. "Yeah, you're right, I did swipe the bounty Falcone paid the Irish mob – kept nine grand, used the rest to fix his place, and buried the last bit in his basement."
"Why only take nine thousand?"
"That was the money for making the bomb and the listening device. Gotta recoup the costs, right? I'm not exactly made of money."
"But you didn't cooperate with the Irish mob." Batman listened to his answer, seemingly piecing together the whole story instantly. His tone wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.
"Right. The people being bugged were the Irish mob. That cheapskate Donnie picked up a metal lighter off the street. It was pretty, and he liked it."
"But it wasn't found among the evidence – you stole it back."
"Yeah, the night before Harvey's place blew up, I sneaked into their hideout with a fake bomb I made, swapped out the high-power bomb they had ready, and picked up the listening device/lighter while I was at it."
"Why?"
Batman looked into Cody's eyes. The deep blue reflected a hapless, homeless guy. There was no madness, no chaos, no hysteria, no terrible day, no tragic life.
None of the qualities you'd expect from a villain or a hero. Just a little lonely, plus a bit unlucky.
And kind of broke.
"Why?"
Cody had originally planned to answer that Harvey Dent was a good guy, but looking into the Caped Crusader's eyes, he couldn't bring himself to give that brush-off answer.
"...Because I felt guilty."
He was silent for a moment, then replied, "Normal people are supposed to be a little selfish, but they're also supposed to have a conscience. I guess I'm a normal guy."
"I burned the factory. I thought it was counterfeit money in there, so I just torched it. Harvey Dent took the fall for me this time. I didn't have the guts to stand up and tell Falcone directly that he had the wrong guy, and I didn't know what else to do."
"So I figured, I could try to minimize his losses a little."
It fits, Batman thought. It all fits.
"You didn't know that was where Falcone was storing his dirty money."
"I didn't. I had no reason to specifically track down the Roman's ill-gotten gains. I know you want to ask about the pumpkin thing too, so I'll just get it all out. On Halloween night, I did sell a small pumpkin."
"The buyer's face was hidden. They wore a black round hat, a baggy trench coat, and their face was blurry. They had rough men's gloves on their hands. Except for the hat, they were all in gray."
"Is there anything else you need to say?"
"A while back, the Thanksgiving cornucopia I made got snatched right off the street. That time he didn't even pay."
At this point, even Batman couldn't help but give Cody a sideways glance. Not much major stuff had happened in Gotham lately, but this guy managed to run into every single bit of it.
"Why you?" The low voice murmured, his brain working overtime. "Why you?"
"Probably 'cause I was close by. If it wasn't me, wouldn't have made a difference if he bought it from a store," Cody shrugged. "I've told you everything I can. If there's nothing else, can you let me go?"
"One more thing. There's a— in the Gotham sewers."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I brought food to poor Solomon recently. That big guy's not bad, at least he didn't punch me to death. That's not illegal, are you gonna investigate that too?"
Cody had laid everything out, and now he actually felt completely relaxed. He wasn't someone who was used to keeping secrets anyway.
"Alright, Batman, what are you gonna do now? Haul me off to jail? Or let me get a night's sleep at a hotel?"
"...I'll take you to a hotel in the Burnley district. It's open 24 hours – and here's your thirty-five thousand dollars. It was supposed to be evidence."
Cody didn't reach for the money bag, though. His mind was completely focused on the first part of what Batman had said.
"I'll take you to a hotel in the Burnley district."
"How are you gonna take me? Cough, cough, I mean, I don't think I brought my car keys with me either, so you'll need to provide the ride."
"Just so you know upfront, I'm not a big fan of swinging around on high buildings. I'm not afraid of heights, of course, I just don't like swinging around. I might throw up."
The main point Cody was trying to make with those two statements was really just two words.
Batmobile! Batwing!
Even though he was supposed to avoid contact with superheroes as much as possible, and they'd all go back to their own lives after this, since he'd had such lousy luck tonight anyway, what was the harm in having a little fun?
Just riding in the Batmobile or the Batwing, right? Supervillains get to do it, why shouldn't I?
Just thinking about those two monstrous beasts, their tough bodies, sleek curves, the cold metal feel, and the roar and rumble of the high-powered engines when they sped off, Cody couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.
Specially built by Lucius Fox, the culmination of Wayne's cutting-edge technology – a Batmobile worth 18 million bucks, a Batwing worth 60 million bucks. Wasn't that way more impressive than any other fancy car?
Batman looked at Cody. The guy's mood had suddenly gotten a little too excited. He suspected there might be some kind of plot involved.
"No need to ask any more questions. You'll be there when you wake up."
"Huh?"
Thwack
Batman delivered a lightning-fast chop to the neck, and Cody instantly blacked out. Only one thought managed to flash through his mind.
Batman's such a jerk.
Picture of the Batmobile
Chapter 56: Gotham in the Snow
When Cody woke up, he was already outside the hotel.
"This is where it ends. Next time something happens, you can call Gordon directly. Don't pull dangerous stunts like that again; Gotham is already dangerous enough."
"Wait a second, take this."
Cody casually pulled a small bottle from his pocket and tossed it gently into the darkness.
"Special apple juice. Heals wounds fast, good for using in a fight. It's a secret recipe, don't ask. If you don't wanna drink it, just toss it."
There was no response, but no sound of the bottle hitting the ground either, so Cody didn't say anything else. He turned and walked into the hotel lobby.
Batman was always like this; once he said what he needed to say, he'd just vanish into thin air.
The next day, the Wayne Charitable Foundation announced free aid for the reconstruction and repair of the homes destroyed by the fire last night. Of course, that had nothing to do with Cody; it wasn't his place.
The landlord wasn't willing to refund Cody the rent. He promised that after the reconstruction was finished, he could use the remaining balance to keep renting there. But Cody didn't want to live there anymore. It had felt great yelling at everyone that night, so he hadn't thought much about it at the time. But now, it was starting to sink in – he'd chewed out so many people, there was no way he could stay in that area. If someone came looking for payback, his normal life would pretty much be over.
Something else that was kind of interesting was that the Wayne Charitable Foundation also cut 30% of its funding support for Gotham City's public fire department. They declared that if fire trucks couldn't get to the scene within five to fifteen minutes of receiving a fire call, then they didn't need that much funding support anyway.
This wasn't a harsh demand. Thanks to Wayne Enterprises donating huge sums of money for infrastructure in Gotham City, the subway, light rail, airport, and road conditions were pretty decent. Everyone could see it was purely a show of dissatisfaction with the Gotham fire department's deliberate inaction last night; it wasn't intentionally making things difficult.
But the two pieces of news that grabbed Gotham City's attention the most weren't those, but a swirling, heavy snowfall.
That's right, it was the twelfth lunar month, and Gotham City's weather had finally fully entered winter. Of course, that subtle term "twelfth lunar month" was only meaningful to Cody himself; everyone else still called it December.
It was still sunless weather, but Gotham under a blanket of ice and snow looked a lot more charming than its usual gloomy self. Houses and streets were draped in silver, along with tall snow-covered fir trees and stark, bare dead trees. In this vast white cityscape, kids would occasionally run and play – they were the ones who loved playing in the snow the most.
Cold, fresh air filled Cody's lungs, his exhaled breath turning into a faint white mist in the air. He walked down the street, looking at the occasional red-clothed Santa Claus flashes in the shop windows, the strings of pale yellow lights gradually being hung along the streets, and the scattering of people wearing Christmas hats. It felt unusually fresh; he hadn't often seen so many people with smiles on their faces during his time in Gotham.
Even though Christmas Day was still a ways off, people were already starting to look forward to it. The atmosphere had a bit of a New Year feel to it – hanging lanterns and decorations, families celebrating. Of course, the vibe had faded a bit in recent years; more work, fewer days off, no time for dusting and kitchen god rituals, simplifying buying new year's goods, not much time to visit relatives, and thorough cleaning taking too much time and energy.
Cody thought to himself quietly, lost in thought. Although it was almost Christmas, everyone sees Hamlet differently. He found it hard to control his memories and associations.
"Little kids, don't be greedy, after the eighth day of the twelfth month comes the New Year; Laba porridge, eat for a few days, tra-la-la until the twenty-third; Twenty-third, sticky candy; twenty-fourth, sweep the house; Twenty-fifth, make tofu; twenty-sixth, go buy meat; Twenty-seventh, kill the rooster; twenty-eighth, knead the dough; Twenty-ninth, steam the buns; stay up all night on the thirtieth, walk the streets on the first day of the new year."
He softly recited the nursery rhyme he heard as a child, walking step by step to the street corner. When he was little, the New Year was a whole month-long affair. The happiness was real happiness. Whether it was hanging lanterns and decorations or being busy, the family would hang lanterns and put up spring couplets together. New Year's Eve dinner would take a few days to prepare, and the big clean-up would also take a few days.
Now, it had been a long time since he'd eaten sticky candy, and he wasn't in the mood to spend days sweeping a house. Tofu and meat, rooster and dough couldn't be reasons to take time off. As for the thirtieth night, he wouldn't be spending it at home. Elders were fewer one by one, and connections were breaking off little by little.
Was it because he had become more restless and indifferent, or because life had gotten better, leading to less excitement during the New Year, or was it for some other reason? Cody didn't know, but he knew one thing for sure: even a hint of that faded New Year's flavor, he still missed it now.
You only miss home when you're away from it. For him, the distance to his hometown was now unreachable.
Maybe he should make some Laba porridge right now? Although it wasn't time for Laba yet, since he wanted to drink it, there was no reason he couldn't.
However, to cook, he'd need at least a stove. The most urgent task was still finding a place to stay. He didn't plan on staying in a hotel in Burnley for long; it was just too expensive. It wasn't that his salary couldn't cover his accommodation costs, it was simply that he didn't see the need, and he was already used to saving money but not quite used to spending it yet.
"Guess I'll go get my car back first," he thought. "Worst case scenario, I can sleep in the car at night." With that thought, he changed direction and headed towards the East End.
As he passed a newsstand, he grabbed a newspaper and flipped through it. There wasn't much special news – just the usual gangsters, shootouts, turf wars, Batman hanging people, etc. Wait, no, hold on, there was some useful new info.
"As winter sets in, heavy snow falls, and Gotham's temperature is expected to drop rapidly. Bruce Wayne has publicly stated that he will continue to increase funding for Gotham City's orphanages this year, helping more children get through the winter."
"Additionally, the well-heeled young master has already established relief centers in multiple areas of Gotham and built temporary shelters, distributing food and clothing to help the homeless and street orphans survive the cold winter. A special note: if homeless individuals are willing to help with public service work at the relief centers, they will also receive compensation."
Seeing this news, Cody thought to himself, his place to stay tonight was definitely sorted. He might even be able to snag a temporary job.
"Gotta say, at least half of the public welfare in Gotham is propped up by Wayne. If you count the stuff he actually does, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say ninety percent."
Just then, a system message conveniently popped up. Just as Cody had guessed, this message helped him find his first winter gig in Gotham City.
