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Chapter 72: Eerie Laughter...
Honestly, this city was indeed very prosperous. A large metropolis of twelve million people was no exaggeration; without a sufficiently prosperous economy and developed transportation, it would be difficult to gather such a large population. Almost every industry in this city had Wayne Enterprises involved.
Similarly, the poor in this city were still numerous, especially in the Old City, which could be called a giant slum. Compared to the New City District, it was like two different worlds.
Tony disguised himself and walked onto the street. After meandering around, he eventually turned into a dark alley. Several shadowy figures had already surrounded him, glaring at this unfamiliar face with covetous eyes.
"Kid, this is a robbery, hand over your money!" A red-haired youth skillfully pulled out a handgun and disengaged the safety. He was in a good mood; business had come early this morning, securing his food money for the next few days.
Robbery was also a business. It required basic discernment; if you offended someone you shouldn't, then even death would be a blessing.
Gotham City lacked nothing, but it certainly didn't lack various large Gangs. Some Gangs were even feared by The Government. For example, Falcone, who was previously taken down by Batman, was practically a crime lord. He was even more formidable than Kingpin, the Crime Lord of New York City, and controlled the entire political scene of Gotham City. Another example was the current Falcone Crime Family, a Crime Syndicate of America formed by a coalition of underworld bosses; their corrupt dealings went without saying.
The red-haired youth had been making a living on this street for years. He was certain this well-dressed young kid was a stranger, and he hadn't heard of the Falcone Crime Family adding any new members recently.
"You're going to rob me?! Are you sure?" Tony had a look of novelty. This was the first time anyone had jumped out to rob him.
"Kid, don't worry, I'm only robbing you today. If you come tomorrow, I won't. We folks from Gotham City are just that simple and honest, it's world-famous." The red-haired youth heard that Tony's accent was from New York, and his mind was made up. He's an outsider, it would be insane not to rob you.
Tony was amused and exasperated. Listening to the youth's tone, it was as if he should even thank him.
"Robbing me? You've picked the wrong person."
By the time the red-haired youth realized something was wrong, Tony had already made his move. With ghostly speed, he punched the youth in the stomach, then swiftly snatched away the handgun.
The youth clutched his stomach, kneeling on the ground, wailing in pain.
"This toy wants to rob me?" Tony mumbled, and quickly dismantled the handgun into its components.
He didn't care whom he offended. Optimus Prime had also been transported with the luxury cruise ship and was currently docked at the harbor. At worst, he'd bring Optimus Prime here for a massacre. If that didn't work, he'd frantically convert vehicles in Gotham City and overwhelm his enemies with sheer numbers.
The red-haired youth's face was ashen, his eyes vacant. Damn, he got off to a bad start today. His first business deal ran into a tough character. So unlucky. Why was he, Anderson, so unlucky?
"Tell me, who are you? Which Gang do you belong to? How much do you know about this city?" Tony narrowed his eyes, grabbed the youth's hair, and lifted him up, ignoring his pained shouts.
When dealing with these Gang members, one had to be ruthless. In this line of work, before earning their respect, you must ensure they fear you. Fear and panic were the foundation; respect was something to consider later.
"Anderson! My name is Anderson! I'm an Underworld Rat on this street, many people know me!" Anderson was in so much pain that tears were almost streaming down his face. He frantically waved his arms.
"Underworld Rat" was slang. It referred to unaligned individuals involved in the underworld. They were insignificant like rats, yet as well-informed as rats. This surprised Tony. A small-time Gang member without backing, how did he survive in this dark city?
As if seeing Tony's confusion, Anderson quickly explained: "I work during the day, unlike others."
Tony suddenly understood. Apart from big shots like the current Falcone Crime Family, only the Unorganized Criminals were keen to operate during the day. The former feared no official power and acted without restraint; the latter did small-time business, wouldn't easily harm or kill people, and avoided running into all sorts of top criminals at night.
"I, Anderson, have been a Gotham City native since I was young. I know every corner of this city! Please let me go. My elderly mother is ill at home, my wife is giving birth in the hospital, and my father's remains are waiting to be cremated at the funeral home..."
*Thwack!*
A wad of American bills landed on Anderson's head, scattering across the ground. Anderson swore on his deceased mother and non-existent wife that he had never seen so much money in his life. Usually, robbing a few hundred dollars was the absolute most he could hope for!
"Listen, I don't care what your family situation is, but I need you to do something for me. Since you dare call yourself an 'Underworld Rat', I hope you have real skills. You need to help me find out some information. But if you don't do it well or dare to deceive me, I'll kill you. Not just you, I'll also find every last one of your remaining relatives and pay them a personal visit." Tony threatened him with a grim expression. With people like this, you couldn't be polite. "You don't need to know who I am, and don't try to find out. I'll be waiting for you in this spot three days from now. If you satisfy me then, I'll give you three times the price! You need to help me inquire about..."
A few minutes later, Tony casually walked out of the alley, with his hands in his pockets, as if he had just been sightseeing. As he left, he suddenly looked up, staring at a subtly rotating camera. He let out a scornful laugh, then shot it to pieces, utterly unconcerned.
Another ten-odd minutes passed. Anderson, his pockets bulging, finally emerged from the alley, pretending nothing had happened. He hurried into the crowd.
Tony's expression had indeed grown somewhat grim, with a menacing aura. He had only come out for a stroll, yet someone was already watching him through the street cameras. Did they really think he wouldn't kill? Who was it? Bruce? Falcon? The local Gotham City Police Department?
Tony walked grimly down the street. Passersby, as if avoiding a plague god, steered clear of Tony. Was he another dangerous individual, perhaps?
In a dark basement not far from Tony, a figure was subtly trembling. This tremor had a specific frequency. It didn't seem to be from fear, but rather from a sense of madness.
"Huh, this person, hehehehe... kill or not kill? No, no, no, that's wrong. Should kill Batman! Hehehehahahahah... Should go kill the most annoying guy... so hypocritical!"
The figure facing the wall muttered to himself from time to time. He held a stack of playing cards in his hand. Strangely, every single playing card was a Joker card, all bearing the Joker's image. There were no other numbered cards.
In the dark basement, the lights flickered erratically, sometimes bright, sometimes dim, making everything in the basement seem to dance in the shadows. He was silent at times, and at other times let out a chilling laugh, which echoed repeatedly through the basement.
"Heeheehee hahahahahahahahahahaha heehee..."
(end of chapter)
Honestly, this city was indeed very prosperous. A large metropolis of twelve million people was no exaggeration; without a sufficiently prosperous economy and developed transportation, it would be difficult to gather such a large population. Almost every industry in this city had Wayne Enterprises involved.
Similarly, the poor in this city were still numerous, especially in the Old City, which could be called a giant slum. Compared to the New City District, it was like two different worlds.
Tony disguised himself and walked onto the street. After meandering around, he eventually turned into a dark alley. Several shadowy figures had already surrounded him, glaring at this unfamiliar face with covetous eyes.
"Kid, this is a robbery, hand over your money!" A red-haired youth skillfully pulled out a handgun and disengaged the safety. He was in a good mood; business had come early this morning, securing his food money for the next few days.
Robbery was also a business. It required basic discernment; if you offended someone you shouldn't, then even death would be a blessing.
Gotham City lacked nothing, but it certainly didn't lack various large Gangs. Some Gangs were even feared by The Government. For example, Falcone, who was previously taken down by Batman, was practically a crime lord. He was even more formidable than Kingpin, the Crime Lord of New York City, and controlled the entire political scene of Gotham City. Another example was the current Falcone Crime Family, a Crime Syndicate of America formed by a coalition of underworld bosses; their corrupt dealings went without saying.
The red-haired youth had been making a living on this street for years. He was certain this well-dressed young kid was a stranger, and he hadn't heard of the Falcone Crime Family adding any new members recently.
"You're going to rob me?! Are you sure?" Tony had a look of novelty. This was the first time anyone had jumped out to rob him.
"Kid, don't worry, I'm only robbing you today. If you come tomorrow, I won't. We folks from Gotham City are just that simple and honest, it's world-famous." The red-haired youth heard that Tony's accent was from New York, and his mind was made up. He's an outsider, it would be insane not to rob you.
Tony was amused and exasperated. Listening to the youth's tone, it was as if he should even thank him.
"Robbing me? You've picked the wrong person."
By the time the red-haired youth realized something was wrong, Tony had already made his move. With ghostly speed, he punched the youth in the stomach, then swiftly snatched away the handgun.
The youth clutched his stomach, kneeling on the ground, wailing in pain.
"This toy wants to rob me?" Tony mumbled, and quickly dismantled the handgun into its components.
He didn't care whom he offended. Optimus Prime had also been transported with the luxury cruise ship and was currently docked at the harbor. At worst, he'd bring Optimus Prime here for a massacre. If that didn't work, he'd frantically convert vehicles in Gotham City and overwhelm his enemies with sheer numbers.
The red-haired youth's face was ashen, his eyes vacant. Damn, he got off to a bad start today. His first business deal ran into a tough character. So unlucky. Why was he, Anderson, so unlucky?
"Tell me, who are you? Which Gang do you belong to? How much do you know about this city?" Tony narrowed his eyes, grabbed the youth's hair, and lifted him up, ignoring his pained shouts.
When dealing with these Gang members, one had to be ruthless. In this line of work, before earning their respect, you must ensure they fear you. Fear and panic were the foundation; respect was something to consider later.
"Anderson! My name is Anderson! I'm an Underworld Rat on this street, many people know me!" Anderson was in so much pain that tears were almost streaming down his face. He frantically waved his arms.
"Underworld Rat" was slang. It referred to unaligned individuals involved in the underworld. They were insignificant like rats, yet as well-informed as rats. This surprised Tony. A small-time Gang member without backing, how did he survive in this dark city?
As if seeing Tony's confusion, Anderson quickly explained: "I work during the day, unlike others."
Tony suddenly understood. Apart from big shots like the current Falcone Crime Family, only the Unorganized Criminals were keen to operate during the day. The former feared no official power and acted without restraint; the latter did small-time business, wouldn't easily harm or kill people, and avoided running into all sorts of top criminals at night.
"I, Anderson, have been a Gotham City native since I was young. I know every corner of this city! Please let me go. My elderly mother is ill at home, my wife is giving birth in the hospital, and my father's remains are waiting to be cremated at the funeral home..."
*Thwack!*
A wad of American bills landed on Anderson's head, scattering across the ground. Anderson swore on his deceased mother and non-existent wife that he had never seen so much money in his life. Usually, robbing a few hundred dollars was the absolute most he could hope for!
"Listen, I don't care what your family situation is, but I need you to do something for me. Since you dare call yourself an 'Underworld Rat', I hope you have real skills. You need to help me find out some information. But if you don't do it well or dare to deceive me, I'll kill you. Not just you, I'll also find every last one of your remaining relatives and pay them a personal visit." Tony threatened him with a grim expression. With people like this, you couldn't be polite. "You don't need to know who I am, and don't try to find out. I'll be waiting for you in this spot three days from now. If you satisfy me then, I'll give you three times the price! You need to help me inquire about..."
A few minutes later, Tony casually walked out of the alley, with his hands in his pockets, as if he had just been sightseeing. As he left, he suddenly looked up, staring at a subtly rotating camera. He let out a scornful laugh, then shot it to pieces, utterly unconcerned.
Another ten-odd minutes passed. Anderson, his pockets bulging, finally emerged from the alley, pretending nothing had happened. He hurried into the crowd.
Tony's expression had indeed grown somewhat grim, with a menacing aura. He had only come out for a stroll, yet someone was already watching him through the street cameras. Did they really think he wouldn't kill? Who was it? Bruce? Falcon? The local Gotham City Police Department?
Tony walked grimly down the street. Passersby, as if avoiding a plague god, steered clear of Tony. Was he another dangerous individual, perhaps?
In a dark basement not far from Tony, a figure was subtly trembling. This tremor had a specific frequency. It didn't seem to be from fear, but rather from a sense of madness.
"Huh, this person, hehehehe... kill or not kill? No, no, no, that's wrong. Should kill Batman! Hehehehahahahah... Should go kill the most annoying guy... so hypocritical!"
The figure facing the wall muttered to himself from time to time. He held a stack of playing cards in his hand. Strangely, every single playing card was a Joker card, all bearing the Joker's image. There were no other numbered cards.
In the dark basement, the lights flickered erratically, sometimes bright, sometimes dim, making everything in the basement seem to dance in the shadows. He was silent at times, and at other times let out a chilling laugh, which echoed repeatedly through the basement.
"Heeheehee hahahahahahahahahahaha heehee..."
(end of chapter)
