American comics: I gradually replicate everything

Chapter 61 This is so Gotham (3k)

Batman arrived quickly, but not as Batman. He wore a well-tailored dark suit and a simple silver-gray mask that covered the upper half of his face, making him look like a mysterious rich kid who didn't want to show himself because of something.

This kind of attire is not unprecedented in Gotham; it often appears at special gatherings and occasions, where wearing a mask makes it easier for people to handle some gray-area matters.

He was followed by a group of people.

Those people, dressed in uniform gray overalls, were silent and did not ask a single question. They moved swiftly and efficiently, carrying various professional tools and containers, and began their work on the bloody and chaotic scene of the massacre.

The mangled crocodile carcass was dragged away, removed, and stuffed into a body bag. The ground and walls were washed, and traces were treated with special solvents and disinfectants.

The entire process involved almost no extra conversation, only the sounds of tools rubbing and liquid rinsing, displaying a chilling level of professionalism.

On one side, a group of cleaners were dealing with a bloody crime scene and corpses; on the other side, Vancan was chatting with his long-lost senior, Bat.

He watched the cleaners operate like the most sophisticated instruments.

"Bat, you brought these people very efficiently."

"Looks like he's very experienced."

Van Can was still addressed by the familiar name used by people on Wudang Mountain.

Bruce Wayne said in a heavy tone.

Where there is demand, there is a market.

As long as sufficient compensation is paid.

In Gotham, no matter who dies, how many die, or what the corpses look like, the Cleaners can make them disappear.

Like other black market doctors, as long as you pay enough, they can precisely remove any organ you specify, and their skills are more advanced than those of many experts in regular hospitals.

but----"

The children huddled around the medical staff, receiving initial comfort and examination.

"This is probably the first time in their careers that they have dealt with the psychological trauma of dozens of frightened children like today."

As Batman spoke, his gaze returned to the scene: the crocodile remains torn apart by brute force, their bones twisted, and the shocking impact marks on the walls—all testified to the inhuman power that had erupted.

He frowned, somewhat puzzled and surprised, but didn't speak immediately.

"Monkey, after we parted ways at Wudang Mountain, we never expected to meet again in such a place, in such a scene."

""

Van Ken said.

"I'd also like to choose a comfortable coffee shop, or a pavilion on the mountaintop, sit down, have a cup of hot tea, and have a good chat with you."

Unfortunately, Gotham wasn't too welcoming of my ideas; upon arrival, they presented me with a rather unusual "welcome gift."

Bruce followed his gaze and looked at the group of rescued children.

The medical staff were trying to ease their fear with gentle words and blankets, he hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

"When I received your call, my heart skipped a beat."

I thought—it's just that during this time apart, something happened to you, or you started to become addicted to abusing your power and went down a different path.

I even worry that my fellow disciples and I might have to take different sides.

Bruce paused, a hint of relief in his voice.

"It seems I was overthinking it."

Although you took action and killed someone, it was all to save people, to save these dozens of children.

"King of the sewers—I can't believe you're telling me this. This scum, what he's done, he doesn't deserve to die ten times over. If it were me—"

He didn't finish his sentence; his tightly pursed lips and the fleeting coldness in his eyes said it all.

He and Van Cane share a remarkably similar hatred for villains who harm children.

Vancan noticed an undisguised heaviness and empathy in Bruce's eyes as he looked at the children.

This might not only stem from a sense of justice, but also from the shadow deep within Bruce's own heart, the shadow of that little boy who also lost everything on that sinful night.

The scene was quickly cleaned up so that no trace of the previous tragedy could be seen, and even the smell of blood and other odors were neutralized by special chemicals.

Even Vancan, the perpetrator, doubted whether he had killed someone here.

Maybe this is what you call professional.jpg

Guided by professionals, the children lined up and left this nightmarish place.

Bruce told Vancan that the children would be temporarily placed in a well-equipped orphanage funded by the Wayne Foundation.

For those with identification information, we will do our best to help them find their families;

For those who are homeless, Wayne Enterprises will take care of their future life, education, and career path, covering everything from schooling to employment.

Van Canner knew that Bruce Wayne, who came from the old Stars and Stripes of Gotham, wasn't just talking big.

In Gotham, the Wayne family wields such power, like an invisible net covering many corners of the city, from the glamorous top floors to the darkest sewers.

Every Gotham resident, from birth to death, inevitably faces two things: paying taxes and dealing with the Wayne Group or its subsidiaries.

After dealing with everything, the two walked out of the sewers and onto the nearby port dock.

The night sea breeze, damp, cold, and salty, swept over them, blowing away some of the lingering sewer smell on their bodies.

Leaning against the cold railing, gazing at the scattered navigation lights on the dark sea in the distance, Bruce's voice drifted in the wind.

"Monkey, do you know?"

On my first day back in Gotham, the people I met were also children.

"Oh?"

Van Ken turned his head to look at him.

"A girl, right on the street corner."

She was pitifully thin, probably only a teenager, and her height only reached about my height.

Bruce gestured with his hand to his waist and abdomen, his movements somewhat stiff.

She stopped me. Her eyes were big, but they lacked the innocence and light of a child's. She said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Fifty dollars."

Only fifty dollars.

He didn't describe the details, but the implication was clear.

Vancan didn't speak, but listened in silence.

In comparison, Gotham gave them, one an outsider and the other a returning traveler, a small shock, and it's hard to say who was stronger.

"I was standing there and it felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head and down to my toes."

Bruce, now alone, had removed his mask and his expression became exceptionally somber.

"I don't know if I was too young when I left and didn't see the true face of this city, or if it has rotted to a new and more terrible degree over the years."

That kind of shock is enough to chill the heart of anyone who still harbors illusions about humanity.

I asked her if someone was pressuring her.

Is there no other way?

I told her I could help her, send her to school, and I would cover all the expenses.

At her age, she should be sitting in a classroom, playing with her friends, not—"

Bruce took a deep breath of the cold air, which smelled of the sea.

Soon, two gangsters dressed in a shabby style came over, their eyes filled with hostility.

She was the cargo they were looking after.

A conflict broke out, and I took them down.

But I ended up getting injured too, I was stabbed in the body.

He paused for a long time before saying in an almost flat tone, "The one who stabbed me was that girl."

Van Can raised an eyebrow.

This turn of events is very "Gotham".

Then the police arrived.

They ignored the gangsters lying on the ground and the trembling girl, but pointed their guns directly at me, the troublemaker who was disturbing other people's business.

I fled, wounded, and hid in the alley for a long time before finally shaking them off.

After Bruce finished speaking, he stared at the dark sea, remaining as silent as a mountain.

"She makes a living this way, she wants to survive, that's all," Van Can said slowly, his tone devoid of accusation, a calm analysis.

"yes,"

Bruce's smile held a hint of bitterness, and his voice betrayed his weariness.

"Some things won't get better just because you rush in with enthusiasm and good intentions."

Gotham's disease has penetrated to the bone marrow and rotted to the root.

Sometimes, I feel that one person's strength is utterly insignificant; can it really change this vast, dark city?

He turned around, his eyes looking particularly serious and solemn.

"So, monkey."

I need your help.

Van Ken waved his hand and said.

"Bat, explain yourself first."

I came all the way to Gotham not to be your assistant.

"However, if it's about finding a way to make this damn city a little better, cleaning up some of the garbage like the King of the Sewers—count me in."

Bruce looked at him for a long time, then patted him hard on the shoulder, as if he had been given a long-lost boost of energy.

"That's enough, monkey. Really."

The sea breeze was still blowing, making their clothes flutter.

Bruce seemed to recall the shocking scene in the sewers again, and he couldn't help but ask again.

"Those crocodile carcasses—they were definitely not caused by ordinary force."

How did you do that?

After you returned to Wudang, did you really learn something deeper from your master?

Qigong—to what level can one reach?

Or did you come into contact with the Wudang totem, but didn't experience any strange changes as in the legends?

There are many questions about bats.

He had fought with his master Huang Fei many times. There was a gap between them, but it was not to an inhuman degree.

In his vision, to fight crime and change Gotham, a strong physique and martial arts skills are necessary, but it is impossible to rely solely on superior martial arts skills.

The human body and martial arts have their limits; no matter how strong you are, you can't withstand a bullet.

So when he was driven away from Wudang Mountain, he did not stay long and left decisively.

But the power that Van Canne demonstrated overturned his understanding of martial arts and the limits of the human body.

This shocked him and also left him with some complicated thoughts. If he had chosen to listen to Van Ken's advice and turned around to go up Wudang Mountain with Van Ken again, would he have been able to obtain such power?

Especially after witnessing the deep-rooted darkness of Gotham, even he felt a little lost.

Van Ken said.

"This is not the qigong that my master taught me; I created a better one."

"Do you want to learn, bat? I can teach you."

"Did you create this?"

Bruce was taken aback.