American Comics: The Force Awakens

Kara Vitti's home on Thanksgiving Day.

Carla is Roman's sister, and her son works for Roman for some reasons.Her son, now a corpse.

Kara marries into the Vitti family, the gang that rules Chicago, but when it comes to Gotham, their goals may not align with the Romans.

In the bright basement, the sound of gunfire shook the sky.

Kara is bloated, and obesity may be a genetic flaw in their lineage.But no one would underestimate her, especially when she was angry.

Like now.

"Die!" she screamed hysterically, emptying the magazine of her pistol at the target, as if it was her murderer.In her other hand she held a glass of liquor.

"I rang the doorbell, but no one answered." A voice came from the door. "What are you doing."

"Oh, it's you." Kara didn't look back. "What's the matter with you?"

"Today is Thanksgiving. My father is preparing a family dinner, tomatoes, sausages, and turkey. But you haven't shown up." The man replied calmly, "My father sent me to ask what happened."

"It's about the only kind of family thing I'm allowed to be involved in."

"Thankful, what the hell are you grateful for? Are you grateful that my son was killed and buried underground?" She turned around and tried to calm down her emotions by drinking.

"It's been almost two months, Alberto, and there's not even any news about the murderer," she said. "Nothing, a bunch of trash."

"Father should already be dealing with it."

"How to deal with it, according to his business practices?" Kara said bitterly, "No, I want to do it myself."

"Have you seen this gun?" She raised her hand. The pistol that had just been emptied of the magazine was still smoking. "S. 22 caliber. I got it back from the police with some tricks."

She looked at Alberto. Maybe it was because it was cold outside in November. He was wearing a heavy coat and a wide-brimmed hat. The reflection of his glasses made it difficult to see his expression clearly.

His hands were hidden in his pockets.

"I'm going to use this gun to kill the so-called Festival Killer, with my own hands."

She took another sip of wine. The glass was empty, and she wanted to refill it.

"Since you don't want to attend Thanksgiving dinner, I will go back and tell my father." He replied.

"So have a happy Thanksgiving to you and your son."

How do the living and the dead celebrate Thanksgiving together?By the time Kara's brain, which was not very bright due to alcohol, thought about this problem clearly, it was already a bit late.

"You-" She turned around suddenly, but only saw the muzzle of the gun covered with a baby pacifier flashing with light.

The wine glass fell to the ground with a crisp cracking sound.

............

Former Police Chief Jillian Loeb is a collection of degenerates within the Gotham Police Department.He has no backbone at all, and he is fraternizing with the Romans and the likes of Maloney.Even in retirement, he used his connections in the police and political circles to his advantage.

When he took office, he once said to Jim Gordon, "Every police officer in Gotham can be involved. This is what we deserve."

Some think he was actually just showing off because no one could take him down.

He was wrong.

When Harvey found him, he had just come out of a gentlemen's club called the Panther Room, and of course, he wasn't the one who paid.

The Leopard Room was a Maloney family property.

As an aging senior, his lower body function may not be what it once was.Under the dual effects of excessive alcohol and the cold wind in November, he may want to have a small solution, so he turned into a roadside alley.

A tall figure stopped him.

"Mr. Loeb, I've been wanting to find you," Harvey said.The lighting in the alley was not very good, leaving half of his face hidden in shadow.

"Ah, Harvey Dent." He said in surprise, "I didn't expect to see you around here. Why, is your married life also boring? Are you looking for some excitement?"

"No, that's not the case." Harvey's voice was very calm, and he hesitated for a moment, "I came here to find some ways."

"And I've been told by some of my colleagues in the Gotham Police Department that you're well-respected here."

Jillian understood and smiled. "Ah, that's right. I understand. I heard that your car was blown up in front of your home recently. It's such a pity. Such a loss has a huge impact on a family like yours."

He patted Harvey's shoulder in a friendly manner, indicating that he understood him. "This is nothing to be ashamed of. In Gotham, you will always encounter these little troubles more or less, but don't worry. As long as you have connections, you can get rid of these little problems."

"And Mr. Maloney would welcome a visit from a district attorney at any time."

Harvey was unmoved. He looked left and right and motioned for them to move forward.

"I have received some reliable information recently, and I think someone should pay a lot of money to buy it." He said slowly, and I hoped to talk to Mr. Maloney in person. "They tell me you and Maloney are on good terms. Do you know where I can usually find him?"

"Oh, then you have found the right person." Loeb looked relaxed. "Of course, if it happens, I believe..."

His words froze.

"That's great, dear Mr. Former Director," Harvey said. "Can you please tell me this information? I would be very grateful."

He reached out his hand and pointed the gun at Gillian's head.

"But...I..." Jillian mumbled, "You...how..."

"What, you think I'm a good person, but I'm just a little short of money recently?" Harvey asked. "It's funny, you only know part of the truth. The question is, where did you know it?"

"No...but..." he stammered, "You can't shoot, you can't do this."

"You want to bet, Gillian? Someone like you wouldn't have the courage. Or—"

With his free hand he reached into his pocket, took out the gold coin, and showed it to the little old man.

"Heads, I can't shoot, but tails, things are different."

"No—" he cried, trembling as he gave an address.

"That's a place he often goes to. We used to eat together—"

"Can I leave?" he asked quietly, not daring to look at Harvey's face.

"Maybe." Harvey said noncommittally.He tossed the coin upwards.

The coin fell, heads up.Harvey lowered his gun.

Jillian smiled, relieved, and he began to back away slowly.

The coin was tossed again and landed on the back of the hand.

"But it looks like you're out of luck this time."

"You can't-" His eyes widened in horror.

The rest of Jillian's words were choked in his throat because a dagger was stuck in it.

In the shadows, a slender owl shadow flashed past.

Harvey dropped the pistol and walked away.