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*Chapter 4: Holy Cow, Ice!*
🕑 Added 2025-05-10 08:49:54 +0000 UTCIn the dim stairwell, the flickering, old hallway light was unstable, its faint glow barely illuminating the surrounding walls and the outline of the corridor. Rustling sounds occasionally came from the darkness, and sometimes a few gray rats could be vaguely seen scurrying by.
Cody followed the man down this hallway, carefully avoiding the trash and overflowing sewage at his feet, but the overwhelming stench still drilled into his nose from the stairwell, making him feel almost nauseous.
"I seriously can't stand this. Even in a slum, I can understand it being dirty and messy, but why does it have to smell this bad?"
The man answered in a muffled voice, "I'm not sure. It might be a corpse in one of the rooms that's started rotting again."
"...Awesome."
Cody was curious why the man's voice sounded a little different. He craned his neck to look and saw the guy had already plugged his nose way ahead of time.
So he reached out and pinched his own nose too, his voice becoming muffled as he asked, "Why would anyone be dumb enough to hide a corpse in their own home, and even let it rot and stink?"
"It's not necessarily hidden in their home. Maybe they just died in the room. The landlord said there have been times before when addicts who overdosed or gang members who ran home ended up rotting in their rooms."
"And people still dare to rent this kind of place?"
"You could also choose to find a fancy hotel on the street and book a presidential suite, or go lie under a bridge or in an alley for the night."
"You know what, I suddenly feel like this place is pretty good."
A broke guy with no money obviously couldn't stay in a hotel. As for staying on a park bench or under a bridge—the best-case scenario was getting stripped of all his clothes, money, keys, and everything else by homeless people; the worst-case scenario was getting his throat slit in some dark corner nobody cared about, and then still getting cleaned out completely.
Nobody would even bother to bury him.
The man walked up and took out a key to open the door, but Cody suddenly reached out and stopped him.
"Hold on a second, who's in your house?"
"My wife."
"Then how are you going to introduce me to her?"
"I can say you're a new friend I just made."
"Then what's my name?"
"..."
The air in the stairwell suddenly became awkward.
Cody had a little trouble keeping his expression straight: "Seriously, with your brain, you don't have a future as a criminal. Or rather, you don't have a future staying in Gotham."
The man's face flushed a little again, but he still suppressed his anger and asked, "Then what's your name?"
"Cody."
"That's weird. Why does it sound like ?"
"Huh?" Cody was slightly taken aback: "Where do I look like I'm from?"
"...I didn't really pay attention until you said something." The man looked Cody up and down: "You're clearly foreigner, so why do you look like a local Gothamite?"
With sunken cheeks, fierce eyes, and a hint of a particular shrewd and cold demeanor, this unique presence even made people overlook his face.
Hearing this, Cody instantly felt a warmth in his heart, and even his own "corpse spots" faded significantly. Turns out the system did deliver after taking the money; it didn't just hastily give him an identity and relevant documents and send him on his way.
"My name is Drake Ryan."
"Okay, then I'll call you Drake. Oh, by the way, you're not an archaeologist, are you?"
"An archaeologist? No, I'm not. I'm a software engineer. Why do you ask?"
"Thirty-five?"
"Thirty-three..."
Cody immediately understood. He casually made a 'please' gesture, indicating for Drake to open the door: "But regardless, you shouldn't have fallen to this point, right?"
Drake, who had just inserted the key into the lock, was silent for a moment, then looked up at Cody and said, "I'll tell you about this, but don't bring up the topic once you're inside my place."
"Got it."
Drake pulled the key out and instead led Cody towards the stairwell.
"Come on, let's talk on the rooftop."
There was no light in the dark stairwell, only a bit of moonlight and city lights filtering through the windows barely illuminated the steps. Neither spoke, just walked up the stairs one after the other, the thudding sound of their footsteps on the steps sounding extremely heavy.
After climbing four floors, Drake pushed open an iron door. Outside, the outline of the distant bustling city buildings was faintly visible, and a super-large 'GG' sign stood to the side, barely serving as a light source for the rooftop.
They walked onto the rooftop. From here, looking down at the surrounding buildings and streets, it was still completely dark, only the sound of scattered raindrops falling into puddles.
"So, how did you end up here?"
"It was for my wife..."
Drake casually pulled over a broken iron chair nearby, wiped off the water stains, and sat down. The cold touch sent a shiver down his spine, but it also sobered up his tired brain a bit.
"Like I said, I was originally a programmer in Metropolis. I was supposed to be laid off at 33. Before that, I hadn't really thought about where I would go next, and I never thought of coming to a godforsaken place like Gotham."
"Starting before I was laid off, my wife had been coughing and losing her hair for half a year. I urged her to go to the hospital, but she kept refusing, saying she needed to focus on work. Until that day, she came back from the hospital, holding a diagnosis notice."
"Before the diagnosis came out, neither of us paid much attention, just thinking it was some minor, not serious issue. But that diagnosis notice said she had a rare disease, a very uncommon case. The treatment costs and medication were extremely expensive."
At this point, Drake's thin body seemed to hunch over even more, his head almost buried in his chest. He clutched his hair tightly with both hands, even pulling out a few strands, as if trying to relieve his guilt through the pain.
His voice became a little hoarse, his bloodshot eyes had heavy dark circles, and he looked a bit hysterically crazy.
He continued, "I practically emptied my savings, but I still couldn't save her. She almost lost all her hair and started coughing up blood constantly two months ago. She could barely sleep at night, and her internal organs started aging. We were truly out of options. It was then that a specialist told us there was a Dr. Victor Fries in Gotham City. He's a super genius and a cryogenics expert who successfully extended his wife's life using a freezing technique."
Hearing this, Cody's mindset was almost on the verge of exploding. He knew this was a very sad moment, but a primal urge to just bolt really rose in his heart right then.
Dr. Victor Fries. Compared to his real name, perhaps his nickname "Mr. Freeze" was more widely known.
Holy cow, Ice!
***
