American comics: I gradually replicate everything

Just when Van Cannon thought Gotham wasn't quite at its worst, Gotham immediately gave this newcomer a real rude awakening in the most authentic way.

"The local gangs... they're so rude."

Van Kent turned his gaze toward the direction where the two children had disappeared.

"I just got off the train, traveled all the way to Gotham, and they didn't even give me a chance to rest or have a drink of hot water... before stealing my wallet."

He mingled in the crowd and began to move slowly in the direction where the child had disappeared.

"Pretending to play rough, taking advantage of children's naturally unguarded nature, creating a seemingly safe collision, and then taking advantage of the situation..."

Could a seven or eight-year-old child have come up with such a method and executed it so smoothly and naturally?

Although Van Can just glanced at it briefly, he had already caught some details.

Although the smiles on the two children's faces were deliberately bright, their skin was an unhealthy paleness, faintly revealing the traces of years of lack of sunlight and malnutrition.

At first, I thought this was just the general situation of children in the slums of Gotham's old city, but now it seems that it is probably not that simple.

The lives and circumstances of children trained to be professional thieves may be worse than simple poverty.

His decision not to stop or expose the theft on the spot was not due to excessive sympathy or a lack of concern for the stolen goods.

It's because he wants to play the long game and catch big fish.

Let's see what kind of person is so tasteless, training young children to be tools and extensions of his own money.

He had already begun to have an idea about what the main world should use to enhance its gains through heroic deeds.

However, you still need to make enough progress before you can trigger the enhancement.

Van Ken's gaze swept across an old, four-story apartment building.

The building's surface is covered with dark red bricks and stones, with many cracks and stains, and the fire escape stairs hang rusted on the side.

With a quick movement of his feet, he darted close to the wall, lightly touching the uneven surface with his toes, using the window sill, drainpipe, and fire escape railing for leverage. His movements were fluid and silent.

With a few leaps, he landed lightly on the edge of the flat rooftop of the apartment building.

Standing on high ground, the view opens up and is unobstructed.

The afternoon sun shone palely on the rooftops, which were of varying heights, casting long shadows.

Below are narrow streets and alleys that intertwine like a spider web.

Van Cane's gaze quickly returned to the two little boys, who followed him on the rooftop at a leisurely pace, looking down from above as if walking on flat ground.

Along the way, I watched as the two children quickly turned into a narrow alleyway that deviated from the main street.

The childlike innocence and joy on their faces vanished, replaced by a numbness, repression, and a hint of tension that were completely out of place for their age.

The two looked around warily, then one of the children took out the wallet he had just stolen from his pocket and quickly looked through it.

Vancan didn't have much money in his wallet, but for an ordinary child, that stack of bills would definitely be a huge sum of money.

However, when the two children saw the money, there was no joy or excitement in their eyes, only an empty indifference.

It was as if how much they stole, or what they stole, had nothing to do with them; they had simply completed a task that had to be done.

They didn't talk, and rarely even made eye contact; they simply put their wallets back in silently.

One of the children made a few simple gestures.

The two began to peek around, scanning the sparse pedestrians passing by the alley entrance, clearly looking for their next target.

He didn't have the patience to wait until the two children had finished stealing all day before following them home.

Van Can shook his head slightly and jumped down.

The two children, who were intently searching for their target, were startled by the sudden appearance of a figure that seemed to fall from the sky. Their eyes widened in disbelief and terror, and their mouths gaped slightly.

despair.

Van Can jumped from the third floor and landed steadily less than two meters in front of the two children, blocking their way, and looked at the two frozen children.

"What? My wallet... disappointed you?"

I'm really sorry, there isn't enough money inside.

"ah--!"

The slightly taller child instinctively let out a short scream, but as soon as the sound left his mouth, he instinctively covered his mouth tightly with both hands as if bitten by a venomous snake, his eyes instantly filled with deeper fear, as if he had made a sound he shouldn't have made.

The other child reacted similarly, staring at Van Ken in horror.

The two exchanged a glance, without even needing to speak, and the next second, they turned around at the same time and ran desperately into the depths of the alley like startled rabbits!

They were incredibly familiar with the terrain and didn't hesitate to dive into the narrower side paths.

Van Can stood there, watching their retreating figures, his eyes growing even colder.

The two children didn't speak, but they responded clearly to his words, indicating that they were not deaf or mute.

However, even in extreme fright, they still dare not make a normal sound or communicate. That instinctive scream and the subsequent act of tightly covering their mouth... this is the result of intentional discipline.

Through training and punishment, how can we instill a deep fear of making sounds in both children?

Van Can followed behind.

The two children, like frightened mice, frantically roamed through Gotham's labyrinthine, dirty, dimly lit back alleys and secluded streets.

Using their familiarity with the terrain, they deliberately chose narrow routes with many obstacles, sometimes crawling through broken fences, sometimes climbing over low piles of waste, their movements were unusually agile for children their age.

If it were an ordinary Gotham citizen, even a strong, grown man, unfamiliar with these nooks and crannies, they could easily be shaken off.

But Van Can, of course, didn't; he was like a silent ghost, always trailing far behind.

Sometimes he would step over the wall, sometimes he would skim over the rooftop, his high vantage point giving him a clear view of the two men's escape route.

Finally, at the end of a dead-end alley filled with garbage and reeking of decay, the two children, panting heavily, ran frantically to a rusty manhole cover.

One of them painstakingly pried open the manhole cover, while another skillfully and pitifully crawled down. Then, a second person slid in as well, and finally, they pulled the manhole cover back up from the inside.

Vancan emerged from the shadows around the corner and stood beside the sewer entrance.

A foul odor, a mixture of sewage, mold, and unidentified chemicals, wafted out from the crack.

He raised an eyebrow and sighed softly at the dark entrance.

"Gotham, Gotham... you really gave me a grand welcome."

"I've only been here one day, and I've already had to crawl through the sewers... I'll remember this 'meeting gift'."