When Schiller saw the gloom and dejection written all over Bruce’s face, he knew that the conversation with Selina probably didn’t go smoothly.
“You two didn’t get into a big fight again, did you?”
“Worse than that,” Bruce said.
“Alright, then which hospital room is she in now?” Schiller asked.
“I mean, Gotham’s situation is worse than I imagined.”
“There’s a group of bad people here you can’t blame, because in this environment, they’ve already done well enough,” Bruce said.
“I think you should realize by now that being Batman isn’t such a simple thing, is it?” Schiller said.
“Indeed,” Bruce said, “I originally thought that with my tough armor, bulletproof helmet, sharp Batman Batarangs, and guns and bullets, what kind of gang couldn’t I handle?”
“Guns are indeed very useful,” Schiller said.
“At least they ensure someone is willing to listen to what you say.”
“I can’t tell Selina ‘you’re wrong,’” Bruce said, covering his eyes. “Actually, she’s already done well enough.”
“Jonathan probably doesn’t think so. If I told you now that Jonathan also grew up in an environment like this, and that his crimes were actually due to no one teaching him, what would you think?”
Bruce opened his mouth. He realized that he originally thought he was righteous, but later he knew that nothing was absolutely righteous. However, he felt he was at least fair, but now he found that he didn’t seem fair enough.
He had to admit, he was biased towards Selina. Many of the gang members he punished were just like Selina, only less fortunate than her.
Their families and pasts were a mess. They worked for gangs not because they were extremely wicked villains or naturally evil, but simply to make a living.
Breaking free from the shackles of one’s original class is much harder than imagined, especially in Gotham.
This fact made Bruce feel somewhat despairing. He finally understood why Schiller said he didn’t understand Gotham.
Because anyone who wants to completely save Gotham doesn’t understand Gotham.
Everyone here is a bad person, but there isn’t a single bad person here.
Among these people, who are like walking dead, you can’t find anyone who should be saved, nor can you find anyone who should be eliminated by nature.
There is no culprit here; everyone here is a culprit.
This path of a hero’s upgrade was vastly different from what Bruce had imagined. He thought that as long as he arrested enough criminals, extracted information from them, then followed the clues to find the few persistent cancers affecting Gotham, and finally brought them to justice, Gotham would get better and better.
But now he found that this was a bottomless pit. When he removed one batch of cancers, there would be another. When he punished one culprit, there would always be another.
No one can withstand such consumption. This doesn’t refer to wealth or physical body. Harvey believed that only those who reached the end won, but Batman, he didn’t even have an end.
Bruce now realized that his struggle with Gotham would inevitably consume his entire life.
Then he understood that wealth, equipment, and fighting skills indeed could not make him truly Batman, because his greatest enemy was not criminals, but giving up.
The biggest problem he faced was not how cunning his opponents were, but whether he was firm enough, firm enough to dedicate his entire life to endlessly wearing down a City that could not be saved.
It’s like an ordinary person spending their entire life trying to make the Sun rise from the west.
Batman stood on the rooftop of Gotham’s central building. The wind here was strong, whistling past his ears. Below him, countless mediocre villains, like a group of nesting ants, from here, everything in Gotham could be clearly seen.
Batman originally thought Gotham had no order, only chaos. But now he found that not only did it have order, but it was more solid than anywhere else. If there was only chaos, he could rebuild order. But now, he couldn’t even break Gotham’s existing order.
After a while, Batman heard footsteps behind him. Selina walked over with her hands behind her back.
Seeing Batman turn around, she smiled, took out a gem from behind her back, and, smiling, handed it to Batman, saying, “I picked a very beautiful little treasure from my collection. Of course, I couldn’t bear to give you the biggest one, but I think this one is also good.”
Before Bruce could speak, Selina said, “Yesterday I was chatting with Maggie, and she said I should apologize to you, because no matter what, I shouldn’t have cut you with a dagger.”
“I’ve never apologized to anyone. If they wanted to hit me, I’d hit them back. But I think you’ve been very good to me, even accompanying me for a drive on a tall building, and yet I stabbed you. That does seem wrong.”
She blinked her beautiful big eyes, those brown eyes sparkling in the Gotham-like night, and said, “I can tell you’re very troubled. I hope this gem can make you feel a little better.”
Batman looked down at the gem in his hand. It was a triangular ruby, somewhat resembling his ears, exquisitely cut, and had a captivating luster even in faint light.
For the first time, he felt that this was not a mineral that was meaningless to humans except for its beauty.
“Do you want to hear my story?” Batman asked.
On the other side, Schiller was on the phone, saying, “Medical parole? How did he get approval? Although I don’t want to blame you, the Gotham Police Department is really too casual…”
He thought for a moment, well, the Gotham Police Department indeed had no lower limit to break.
Then he said to Gordon on the other end, “I hope he stays well in the hospital and doesn’t come back to cause trouble. You know, I’m different from Batman.”
Gordon hung up the phone with a sigh. He knew it wasn’t that simple. Although Jonathan had finally entered the asylum after various efforts, Victor had disappeared, and Lantaluosi had died.
But the old principal of Gotham University, under the name of medical parole, did not go to prison. He had been in Gotham for so many years and still had some connections, and he ultimately succeeded.
Schiller never hesitated to think of a Gotham citizen in the worst possible light. He knew the old principal wouldn’t let it go so easily.
Sure enough, the next day, as Schiller was about to leave work, a girl rushed into her office in a panic. This was the same girl who had complained to the school when Christine went missing before. She was Christine’s good friend.
“Christine is missing again?” Schiller asked.
“Worse than that,” the girl said anxiously. “Since that time, Christine gave me a safe number. She told me that as long as this number calls my phone, it means she might be in danger!”
Schiller sped up his packing. He said, “When did this happen?”
“Just three minutes ago! The call connected, but there was no sound on the other end!”
Schiller comforted the girl, then called Bruce. He said, “Bad news, something happened to Christine again. I don’t know if Gordon told you? The old principal didn’t go to prison under the name of medical parole. If he wants revenge, he will definitely take revenge on the person who testified against him first…”
Bruce immediately returned to Wayne Manor and put on all of Batman’s gear. He was the one who persuaded Christine to testify against the principal, so he had to save this girl.
Unfortunately, this time the old principal was smarter. He no longer used any low-level gang members, but hired professional kidnappers. They left no traces, and the old principal seemed to simply want revenge, not to use her to threaten others.
But this precisely indicated that Christine was likely in an extremely dangerous environment.
After a while, Batman received a call from Schiller.
Schiller said, “That street where the Red Crow Gang used to be in the East District, that drug den you busted…”
Bruce didn’t have time to ask why before Schiller hung up the phone.
Batman sped off, racing quickly through Gotham’s night.
But he didn’t have the batmobile yet, and an ordinary sports car wasn’t fast enough.
It would take a while to get from Wayne Manor to the East District, and Christine could be harmed at any moment.
Although he didn’t like Christine, he didn’t want to see an innocent person tragically murdered.
Batman slammed his fist on the steering wheel.
He deeply felt that he must have a better mode of transportation.
Suddenly, an unexpected number called.
Catwoman’s voice came from the other end.
She said, “Hey, I think I saw your little girlfriend who waits for you on the street every day.
What’s going on?
Why are they going to Maple Avenue?
It’s very dangerous there…”
“She’s been kidnapped, quickly find a way to save her!
No… I mean, can you keep an eye on them?
…Watch them from a distance, then call me… Forget it, no, no, no, don’t follow them, just tell me where they went.”
“You sound like you need help,” Catwoman said.
Batman seemed a little impatient.
He said, “This is none of your business, just don’t go out and cause me trouble tonight.”
After speaking, he hung up the phone and drove all the way to Maple Avenue.
After a while, Batman appeared at the end of Maple Avenue.
This was indeed the former stronghold of the Red Crow Gang.
He had busted a poppy manufacturing and production den here.
Batman’s memory was excellent.
He walked along the right side of the street and then turned down two alleys.
As soon as he reached the end of the alley, he heard intense fighting and gunshots coming from inside.
Batman quickly found the back door, pried open the lock, and when he entered, he first saw a group of low-level thugs lying sprawled outside.
These people were all screaming in pain on the ground, seemingly hit by joint locks.
Passing through the gatehouse into the living room, he could see seven or eight masked kidnappers also lying on the ground.
A whip, with a whistling sound, almost hit Batman.
Catwoman turned around.
She said, “Thank God, this little girl is fine.”
Batman turned his gaze to Christine on the sofa.
Her clothes were a bit disheveled.
If Catwoman hadn’t arrived in time, something bad might have really happened.
Then, Catwoman sniffed, frowned, and said, “No, why do I smell oil?
Is your car leaking oil?
No, it’s bad!
It might be Molotov cocktails, hurry up and go, get out of here…”
Before she could finish speaking, the glass at the main entrance was shattered, and countless Molotov cocktails wrapped in cloth strips were thrown in.
Blazing flames instantly flared up.
In this abandoned den, there were many fabric sofas, curtains, and other flammable materials.
In a short while, the fire became very fierce.
Bruce carried the unconscious Christine.
As soon as they reached the back door, they found that the back door, which had been pried open, was now blocked from the outside by heavy objects.
Clearly, this was a premeditated trap.
Batman’s clothes were fireproof, but if the fire continued to burn like this, both Christine and Catwoman would be in danger.
Moreover, fireproof clothes didn’t mean he was immune to choking.
The fire grew larger and larger, and the thick black smoke made it almost impossible to see anything in the entire house.
The few of them coughed repeatedly.
Suddenly, a crisp “clanging” sound came from the right, as if something had fallen.
Catwoman reacted quickly, whipping her whip directly.
But when she dragged it back and looked, it was a fire extinguisher!
Regardless of how the fire extinguisher got there, Catwoman shook it vigorously.
Batman said, “Go through the place where they threw the Molotov cocktails, there should be a vacuum zone there!”
Batman took the fire extinguisher and led the way, with Catwoman supporting Christine from behind.
Indeed, the person who threw the Molotov cocktails had used great force, causing them to land in the center of the hall, not in front of the door.
Aside from a small rug, there was no flammable material in front of the door.
Batman used the fire extinguisher to put out the encroaching flames, and the two of them pushed forward.
When they reached the door, Batman first shot and broke the door lock, then began to ram the iron door with all his might.
The person who threw the Molotov cocktails had clearly left in a hurry, and the front door was not as tightly blocked as the back door.
Batman rammed the front door a few times, creating a gap.
But this also meant that air began to circulate, and the fire became even larger.
Catwoman was almost choking unconscious.
Batman could already clearly feel her hand on his shoulder beginning to slide down.
Once she lost consciousness, she and Christine would surely die.
Batman used all his strength, and with one final powerful ram, “Bang!”
The door opened, and the three of them escaped.
Catwoman breathed deeply.
At this point, both Batman and Catwoman were covered in smoke and fire marks.
After dropping Christine off, Batman drove and asked Catwoman, who was in the passenger seat, “Why did you rush in to save Christine?
That was very dangerous, wasn’t it?”
Catwoman was still excitedly examining the interior of the luxury car, clearly she had never ridden in such an expensive car.
She cleared her throat, calming her excitement.
After a while, she said, “Actually, I just thought of many reasons for you to praise me, like I plan to learn from you and be a good person, or that I’m actually a righteous heroine at heart, or that I can’t stand those kidnappers harming innocents…”
Then Catwoman looked at him, and when he was gazed upon by those brown eyes, Batman once again felt his heart racing.
“You don’t want me to do bad things, but I really love those gems.
So I can do one bad thing, and then do one good thing, wouldn’t that work?”
“…Well, actually, I just wanted to make you happy,” Catwoman said, shrugging.
“I know, I can’t be some great hero.
I just like to steal things.
It’s a habit I’ve had since I was little.
I won’t preach any grand reason.
Perhaps that girl who always waits for you on the street is much better than me.
After all, she’s highly educated, beautiful, charming, and very innocent and naive, and she’s never done anything bad.”
“But that’s just how I am.
I never think about those things, I just do what I want to do.
Whether you consider me a criminal or think I’m an incorrigible bad person, I am who I am, this is me, a cat.”
Batman’s hand, gripping the steering wheel, slightly loosened.
He didn’t know if this was the answer he wanted.
But he knew that Catwoman’s romance, liveliness, and sincerity were not the fundamental reasons he loved her.
A Batman would fall in love with a Catwoman.
He was just envious of her freedom, the freedom he, as a Dark Knight, would never obtain.
He had made up his mind to fight this incorrigible City to the end.
Looking at the luxury car slowly stopping at the intersection, Schiller on the rooftop said to the Symbiote in his mind, “…No, we can’t go down.
What’s coming next is not for children to see.”
The Symbiote let out a series of dissatisfied grumbles.
“Yes, I know you did great just now, taking the fire extinguisher from the coffee shop across the street and throwing it in, and you threw it accurately!”
“But what happens in the car is just a meaningless human reproduction process.
You Symbiotes don’t need this process, you just need to shed.”
The Symbiote fell silent, and Schiller didn’t know if it understood.
Schiller shifted his gaze from the luxury car to Gotham’s dimly lit night.
Perhaps this was an incorrigible City, perhaps Batman was also an ordinary person who would feel despair and confusion, he thought.
But Batman was not alone, never alone.
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