Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 613 Hooded Man

Ma Zhaodi actually had another speculation that he didn't reveal.

The fact that there was a "permanent fixed link between the two worlds" was information only he knew. The system didn't say anything about the reason why the two universes inexplicably intersected, but it did give the reason why the Arkham universe wanted to cooperate.

This cosmic convergence presents it with a rare opportunity to save itself, with a chance to rewrite the established storyline.

According to current information, after the link is established, the strength of each universe will gradually increase to that of the Arkham universe. Conversely, could the Arkham universe use the link to move closer to its own universe in the future timeline?

It's not that this universe intends to completely replicate its own universe. But its own universe doesn't have a lot of messy stuff, like Darkseid, Barbatos, the Court of Owls, or Trinity. Well, whether there are Trinity here is debatable, but it's definitely peaceful enough that there aren't any doomsday crises happening all the time.

I've lived in Gotham for almost two years now, and the Justice League hasn't even shown up yet. The reason is that there aren't any world-class crises in this universe, so each hero can take care of their own little corner of the world.

Is the Arkham Universe eyeing this point and wanting to use a sufficiently safe world as a template to gradually complete itself into a full universe?
Ma Zhaodi didn't get an answer, but discussing this with Batman seemed pointless, because he thought about it himself and realized there was no need to think about such a question—as things stand, completing the link is a good thing for both sides.

He and Batman didn't want Gotham City, which they had painstakingly transformed, to be merged and disappear. The Arkham Universe wanted to escape its predetermined fate of being a failed project. As for this universe... he wasn't sure if this universe had communicated with the system, or even if it had a will, since the system rarely mentioned details about communicating with other universes.

"Hello? Hello?"

The piercing microphone sound interrupted Ma Zhaodi's thoughts. He looked up at the square in surprise, and all the high-powered loudspeakers in Gotham City were now emitting a gruff middle-aged man's voice.

To be honest, he didn't sound like a good person.

"Hey!" Bald Clinton's voice echoed throughout Gotham: "How come this stuff he brewed is so hard to use? Can you even hear me?!"

Of course, no one answered his question. Broadcasting equipment wasn't a telephone, and besides, the city, if not thriving with life and thriving with all things, was at least in a state of chaos and turmoil.

"Oh, finally some sound," Clinton continued, "Gotham City bastards, listen up! I'm just as confused as you are—"

Ma Zhaodi sighed: "His eloquence is still as good as ever."

"This is the Clinton you were talking about?"

Batman looked up at the massive clock tower that stood tall in the very center of the city: "Our conversation took about three minutes. He's already on his way to the broadcasting station—you seem to know the layout of this place very well."

“He doesn’t know that the locations of the broadcasting stations in our two universes are different; only the street and block layouts are similar.” Ma Zhaodi shook his head.

"But you have to know, he was a criminal in our Gotham City before, and his way of doing things is probably rather simple and brutal—I'm inclined to think that he just grabbed a thug on the street, held a gun to the man's head, and forced him to drive him to the radio station."

The explanation was so natural and logical that Arkham Batman and Barbara on the other end of the communication subconsciously nodded to each other, thinking, "That's right, this is the style of Gotham City criminals."

Over the loudspeaker, Clinton continued his rant: "But Old Ma told me that there's a problem in the city now. Everywhere you look, there are bastards wearing bulletproof vests, carrying guns and stun guns, and they're killing people indiscriminately!"

"You bunch of cowards who've reformed for a year probably can't even hold a gun properly now! Don't even think about going against those bastards, their equipment and movements are like an army—avoid them! After you've regrouped, head out of the city!"

Clinton paused here, took out the stolen phone, and saw a message from Ma Zhaodi.

"Listen up, everyone!" he shouted again. "Those near the city outskirts, head straight out of the city, the faster the better. Jump off Gotham Harbor and swim out, if you want—the rest of you unlucky souls near the center, don't wander off. Everyone, try to get a gun and gather together at Red Dragon Restaurant, Maroney Restaurant, the Public Cemetery, and Falkney Building." He rattled off a dozen locations in one breath: "Head to these places—old Gothamites should all remember where these places are. Follow the directions in your head, don't look at the damn signs on the street."

"I've said my piece, now run!"

The broadcast fell silent again.

"That's a clever approach."

Old Ma's Batman was flying over Gotham City. He had arrived near Central Plaza. The communicator Batman had given him showed the location of the missing team that Barbara had sent—it was pretty much here.

He heard Clinton speaking on the radio.

Blending into the night, he quietly watched the square where a police officer lay on the ground, surrounded by a group of thugs who had been punching and kicking him and mocking him. But when they heard the voice from the loudspeaker, they all stopped.

"Who the hell is that guy?" one of the thugs asked.

"How would I know? It's probably just some Gotham City lunatic or some gang leader who just got out of prison—Scarecrow caused such a huge scene yesterday, almost everyone in Gotham City ran away, how could anyone not know what happened?"

"And who is Lao Ma?" another thug asked.

"Never heard of this person before—a nobody, a nobody, right?"

"Where's the Red Dragon Restaurant?" the third thug asked. "And Maroni's restaurant, and Falkner's building... weren't those bulldozed a long time ago?"

"I fucking said I don't know, I'm not sure—are you deaf?"

"I suspect this person is a prehistoric relic who was arrested more than ten years ago and was only released today."

"He really picked a good time."

"Go and kill him?"

"Where are you going to arrest him? After he finishes his speech in the broadcasting room, is he waiting for you to come and get him?"

"Then what about him?"

"Who cares? We only make a few dollars a day—let's save that money for the Scarecrow and that hooded man to worry about."

“I advise you to watch your words. That hooded man single-handedly killed Siennis and his henchmen all in one night with two pistols. The money we’re receiving now is that unfortunate guy’s inheritance, and it’s still stained with blood.”

"That's such a fantastical claim."

(End of this chapter)