Laughing American comics, I am becoming more and more like a clown

Red Hood?

Lucian, who was tinkering with the engine, felt dazed when he heard the name, but it seemed that Jack already existed in this world, and Jack was now infected with the Lucian virus, and was so bad that there was no possibility of him coming out to cause trouble.

This Red Hood might just be the Red Hood.

...but we still have to pay attention.

Lucian touched his chin and said, "I want to ask the brothers if they know a man named Jack Napier. He used to work at ACE and has dreams of becoming a comedian. His wife is named Jenny."

I have to guard against it.

"By the way, get me a recording speaker." He added: "Get me a few more."

After the news came back, it was proved that Lucian was indeed overthinking it, there was no such person, so he became bolder - Lucian's only worry was that he would accidentally create a clown, turning the already chaotic Gotham into a complete mess.

...But it doesn't matter if it really works. It's a good opportunity to test whether the Lucien virus is effective or not.

……

That night, the moon was unusually bright and the stars were sparse.

Zaven followed his friends into the huge factory.

The windows were sealed tightly, and one had to pass through two doors to find the brightly lit interior.

They arrived quite late, and there were already about a hundred people gathered here, making a lot of noise. They were all "colleagues" that Zha Wen was familiar with.

In the center stands a simple platform that appears to be made of machine tools, and the complete red cloth wrapping makes it look like a whole.

The leader of the Red Hood Gang, a burly man Zaven had never seen before, was standing there, while his former boss was standing in their area, greeting them with a big smile.

Some kind of deal must have been reached.

After sitting on the stool and waiting for about fifteen minutes, some people came one after another, but the number did not seem to be enough to satisfy them. They whispered to each other, and the burly man coughed twice, indicating that he wanted to speak.

Unfortunately, the people in the audience didn’t have the good character to shut up when the leader spoke... Of course, they did after they accurately shot down a few of the loudest people.

"Welcome to the Red Hood Gang!"

The man was not affected by what happened just now. He opened his arms with a smile on his face - it was a welcome.

"I'm Wilbur Gobert. You may not recognize me, but that's okay. We'll have plenty of opportunities to get to know each other in the coming days! Everyone, as long as we unite, the Red Hood Gang will surely become the largest gang in Gotham. I guarantee that every brother will have food to eat and healthy water to drink!"

"From today on, we no longer have to be afraid of that madman named Lucian!"

After the words were spoken, there was silence, and then thunderous applause.

Zawen heard his friend booing, "Who wrote the manuscript for him? How could it be written like this?!"

The guy sitting in the front heard the voice and turned around to explain, "I wrote it myself... I wrote him several and chose from them randomly, but he insisted that I was a graduate of Columbia Pacific University and had to give an impromptu speech."

"Columbia Pacific University?" My friend, a wealthy second-generation kid who'd fallen on hard times, obviously knew a lot about this. After a moment's thought, he said, "Columbia University, right?"

"No, it's Columbia Pacific." The brother in the front row was very sure.

"Why haven't I heard of it?" he questioned himself.

Zawen had heard of it.

When he was a landlord and collected money without doing anything, he wanted to improve his academic qualifications and asked about which universities could be entered by paying money.

Columbia Pacific University is second only to Stanford International University in terms of its allure.

Amid the uproar, Wilbur mistook this for praise and even looked a little arrogant - perhaps he was very satisfied with his speech.

……

"here?"

No one noticed that during the lively gang birthday celebration, several trucks were slowly approaching outside.

Lucian sat in the driver's seat of the leading car. In order to repair and modify these cars, a lot of black oil stuck to the dirty work clothes.

The high beam was turned on, and the dazzling white light shone straight over. The heavy buzzing sound made the truck look like a giant beast, and it rushed in just as the guard sounded the alarm.

"boom--"

"boom--"

Two doors were knocked open in succession, and the man rushed into the crowd, crushing some people to death before he could stop.

"Excuse me! Everyone! The brakes are failing—"

Lucien pressed the horn, and the pre-set apology voice came out from inside.

There were several other trucks following closely behind this one, but they were all very restrained—at least they refrained from rushing in and running over anyone.

After the car stopped, people came out one after another. Some of them held guns, but more of them held Anhui steel pipes... There was no other way. No one was producing bullets, and the more they were used, the less they had. Now Gotham still used cold weapons more often in laning battles.

Zaven was pushed by the crowd in the chaos, his heart almost jumping out of his chest - of course it was not fear, but the excitement like a fan meeting his idol - his eyes never left the figure in the cab.

Wilbur, who had just founded the Red Hood Gang and became its leader, had a dark face and was shouting something at the top of his lungs, but no one listened to him. Only a few of the leaders pulled out their pistols.

Lucian threw the used recording speaker out, then took out another one from the passenger seat and pressed:

"——We are only here to achieve fair distribution of wealth. If you don't want to die, squat down with your head in your hands!"

There weren't many people resisting - trucks blocked the door, they were outnumbered, and what's more, they had no sense of belonging to this gang... What sense of belonging could someone asking them for bread at this time bring?

Turning around to look at the gang members around him who had surrendered, Wilbur squatted down in humiliation.

At this point, the Red Hood Gang, which had been established for fifteen minutes, was destroyed.

……

It was only natural that before tonight, Lucien knew not only what they were going to do, but also where they were going to do it and was prepared for it.

Coupled with his own greed... there's no suspense about this.

Lucien jumped out of the driver's seat with a loud speaker and accidentally stepped on a corpse... It was one of the unlucky people who was run over by the truck just now.

"I am sorry……"

Then he walked over, stepped on the blood, stood on the high place Wilbur had prepared for him, and looked around.

"Everyone, I know why you joined this gang—you're afraid of me." Lucian's voice spread throughout the factory through the loudspeaker:

"No, no, you should know that I'm not a murderous lunatic. As long as you voluntarily hand over what I want, I won't do anything to you... I'll even invite you to join me."

"So you're definitely not afraid of me."

Lucian suddenly laughed. "I've heard a fable... A pig was about to be slaughtered. It screamed in fear. The sheep asked it, 'Pig, why are you screaming so miserably? Will you stop them from killing you if you scream?'"

"Guess what the pig said?"

"The pig said, 'Sheep, you struggle and scream when you are sheared without any harm to your life. So why should I be surprised if I scream when I am about to be killed?'"

"This is a story from Aesop's fables. Aesop used sheep's wool to represent money, food, and all material possessions, which regularly harm people's interests."

Lucien paused, realizing they might not understand him, and said, "I will take your bread and share it with others, but you cannot allow me to do so."

"So rather than being afraid that I would kill you, you gathered here more because you wanted to resist me and not take it out."

……

Lucian didn't use a loudspeaker. No matter what, the amplified sound would always be distorted. So, he walked down from the platform, walked in front of the squatting people, and said sincerely:

"But I can't not do this - I have to take your food and redistribute it so more people can survive."

"I'm going to keep doing this until I find another way to feed you guys."

"If any of you object to me and refuse to give it to me, I don't mind snatching it away. But if you take the initiative to give it to me, the only thing I can guarantee is that you won't have to worry about food until I starve to death."

……

Lucien has been trying to make himself more down-to-earth, not using extravagant poetry or flowery philosophy, but speaking in words that everyone can understand.

Now it seems.

The crowd was whispering... They were discussing this matter. They knew clearly that Lucian was threatening them, but the guarantee at the end made the threat acceptable.

"...If we don't give it to him, we will die."

"That's what I worked so hard to get. I can eat it if I give it to him, but what about my family?! I still have my mom! She can't starve to death!"

"We can all join... after all, he doesn't have an age limit... but if we join, the food won't be good. If we just give away the food for nothing... how can he guarantee that his promise is true?"

"By then, everything will be in his hands and he'll have the final say! No way!"

"...But now he has the final say."

He looked up at the truck blocking the door, then at the others who were staring at him eagerly... Finally, someone stood up and smiled a smile uglier than crying: "I agree."

Just like in the fable, sheep that lose their wool will cry out. Naturally, Lucian would not ask them to hand over their things with a smile - if they really smiled, Lucian would probably worry about some conspiracy.

After all, the quality of Gotham people is not high enough to sacrifice themselves for others.

Zawen mingled with the crowd and reported his address and the amount of food he had to the person who was counting the food.

No one was stupid enough to conceal the truth - because Lucien had just kindly reminded them that they would send someone to investigate, and since being in the gangs meant offending a lot of people, there would always be someone who had a rough estimate of their situation.

Zaven didn't care much about this matter. After speaking honestly, he returned to his original position, but seeing Lucian smoking on the side, he hesitated and walked forward.

"...Since you said so, we won't be lacking." He glanced at the cigarette and forced a smile: "I want to smoke too."

Lucian raised an eyebrow. He admired the young man's boldness and pulled out a stick. He handed it over. "Of course. What's your name?"

Zavin Allison's smile faded—but he had a premonition that Lucian would forget him, not to mention that his appearance had changed a lot—he took the cigarette and lit it.

"Zhavin o Bat."

Chapter 222 You are lucky

The minced meat was splattered everywhere, but fortunately the blood did not flow over, so there was still a place to step.

Homemade cigarettes don’t taste as good as the ones you buy - they lack vanillin and honey, and there are no filters. They don’t burn completely, but the smoke is as thin as a wisp.

"Zhaven Butt."

Lucien repeated, his face expressionless.

Zawen couldn't help but glance at him, feeling nervous... He still hoped that he would be recognized.

"What did you do before?" Lucien suddenly asked.

"Landlord." Zaven answered quickly, and added even faster: "...But then I participated in that bat event, and everything was gone."