American comics: I gradually replicate everything

But Van Can still lightly jumped down, landing silently like a big cat. He watched the two children's figures disappear around the corner and then followed them.

The sewers were dimly lit, but not completely dark. In the distance, there were some dim emergency lights or glimmers of light shining through other gaps, casting shadowy images on the inner walls of the pipes.

Forced to pursue them into such a place, Van Can's eyes gleamed coldly, but not at the two children he had frightened into fleeing.

The murky sewage flowed slowly in the ditch not far from our feet, making a gurgling sound.

The air was extremely polluted.

Van Ken followed the two children silently into the depths of the sewers.

The further in you go, the wider the passage becomes.

The massive concrete pipes crisscross the area, and some places have even been transformed into spaces resembling underground halls.

Some simple light bulbs, made of scrap wires, hung on the wall, emitting a dim, flickering light that barely dispelled some of the darkness, but cast even more distorted and swaying shadows.

Gotham's underground space is vast and intricate, including sewers, abandoned subway lines, and natural caves.

His bat-like senior brother used sewers and abandoned subway tunnels to create secret passages leading to the Bat Cave, or even temporary safe houses or warehouses.

It seems that this theft ring is also using the sewers as their hideout.

The stench of sewage in the air was still strong, and it seemed to be mixed with a faint... musty smell, earthy smell, and a stuffy atmosphere unique to long-term enclosed spaces.

After rounding a bend filled with discarded tires and debris, the sight before him made Van Can pause slightly.

This place is like a forgotten underground dome, with an unexpectedly spacious feel.

Above us was a huge concrete vault, seeping water and covered with glowing moss.

Under the dim yellow light, a strange yet bustling scene unfolded.

Dozens of children, ranging in age from five or six to twelve or thirteen, were dressed in tattered, ill-fitting clothes. They were all sallow-faced and thin, with empty eyes, like a group of puppets whose souls had been taken away, silently busying themselves.

Near the leaking wall, several children were carefully manipulating some black soil on a wooden frame with small shovels. Clusters of pale white mushrooms were growing on it.

Are they farming?

On the other side, a few slightly older girls sat on a tattered blanket, holding needles and thread and scraps of cloth picked up from the garbage dump. They lowered their heads and mended clothes stitch by stitch, their movements numb and repetitive.

There were also some children silently handing things over to a few slightly older teenagers, whose eyes were equally numb.

Watches, wallets, jewelry, scattered banknotes... that's what they got for the day.

The handover process was deathly silent, without a word, only the slight rustling sound of items being passed around.

Without a doubt, this place is nothing like the miserable home of an orphan trying to make a living.

In the shadows, Van Can's gaze swept over the children.

They were almost all physically healthy, with no obvious disabilities or signs of serious illness; only long-term malnutrition and lack of sunlight made them look pale and weak.

This neatness... is abnormal.

It doesn't seem like they were abandoned; they were more likely abducted.

Van Cannon's gaze grew even colder!

The two children, terrified by Van Can, ran into the hall.

Their hurried footsteps and suppressed, heavy breathing sounded particularly jarring in this silent, oppressively terrifying space.

"Thump, thump..."

The sound carried far.

In an instant, all the children who were busy stopped what they were doing, turned their heads in unison, and looked at them with great fear, as if something extremely terrible was about to happen.

The children even instinctively shrank back and hid in the shadows.

Immediately afterwards, the sound of a clock ringing out came from deep within the sewer.

The sound was harsh and grating.

It echoed through the enclosed space of the sewer, carrying far like a harsh, unquestionable shout, as if calling to... the livestock.

Upon hearing the bell, all the children, including the two who had just run back, trembled violently.

They could hardly hide their fear, but they didn't dare hesitate for a moment. They immediately dropped everything they were holding and ran towards the direction from which the bell was ringing.

While running, they still tried their best to control their pace and dared not make any loud noise.

No one spoke, no one cried, only the extremely suppressed, rustling sound of footsteps.

That fear of making a sound had seeped into his very bones.

Van Cannon, as if blending into the shadows, followed silently.

After passing through a relatively dry and deliberately cleaned passage, a larger space appeared before me.

The room was decorated in a brighter and more magnificent style, with oil paintings hanging on the walls and carpets even on the floor.

At the end of the space, there was a throne.

A man sat on the throne.

He wasn't very tall, and he wore a bright red robe of an odd style, somewhat like a judge's robe and also like a king's robe, a strange mix.

One of his eyes was covered by a black eyepatch, while the other eye gleamed with a cruel and sinister light in the dim light.

A large gemstone ring adorned his thin, bony finger, reflecting faintly in the darkness.

He held a walnut scepter in his hand.

This man is the master of this place; he proclaims himself king, the king of the sewers.

All the children ran into this space and immediately knelt down before the throne like frightened quails, heads bowed, bodies trembling slightly, not daring to even breathe.

Van Kene watched the scene coldly from the shadows of the pipes above the entrance.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at the malnourished, shivering children, and then at the one-eyed man who seemed out of place and pretentious.

"King of the Sewers?... "

Vancan's mind flashed through some vague information about Gotham villains, and he remembered this guy.

He's a minor character, not particularly famous or powerful, but his despicable and evil nature is absolutely top-tier in Gotham, leaving a lasting impression.

They specialize in abducting, kidnapping, and controlling homeless children, orphans, and kids, training them to become silent thieves, and maintaining their rule through cruel punishments and twisted brainwashing.

The things this guy did almost made Batman, who had established his code of conduct, break his no-kill rule for him.

All the children were trembling with fear when the King of the Sewers spoke in a hoarse, shrill voice, breaking the suffocating silence.

"My Kingdom!"

In my kingdom!

I heard a sound that should never have been heard!

He brandished his scepter, his single eye fiercely sweeping over the children kneeling on the ground.

"Who made such a loud noise?! Step forward!"

I'm going to punish him severely!

The two children kneeling in the front row were the same two who had been chased by Van Cane; their bodies trembled like leaves in the wind.

They cautiously crawled forward a few steps, raised their pale little faces, looked at the king in fear, and then quickly began to gesture with their hands.

Their sign language was simple and rapid, filled with fear.

The King of the Sewers watched their gestures, a hint of doubt flashing in his single eye.

"What?"

You mean... someone discovered you stole his things, tracked you down... jumped from several stories high, descended from the sky, appeared in front of you, and almost caught you?"

"Are you kidding me?!"