[comprehensive] villain friend

Gotham reflection【4】

Even if the foot of time is stepping heavily on your chest, what is it? !You had better drink the wine of melancholy from your cup alone, and you will drink it from your cup alone.

<<<<

The sky in Gotham City never seems to clear up.

Dolores walked in the dark alley holding the umbrella.

She felt as if she had overlooked something, but she seemed unconscious.She just walked, watching the rainwater hit the ground, washing away the dust on the alley floor, the black rainwater merged into a stream, flowed past her feet, and quickly disappeared into the dark corner of the wall.

She left the restaurant as calmly as she had come.

The clown's face still echoed in his mind.I have to admit that face was too powerful, especially after he had brought it so close to her once.

He is a madman.

And there is no way to predict the behavior style of a madman.He doesn't seem to be limited by anything, and he does whatever he wants, just like the "Superman" in Nietzsche's mouth-Superman is omnipotent, if there is something he can't do, then it must not be the reason for Superman itself, but he doesn't have it Just get the tools.Perhaps an ethical "Superman" poses no threat, but an immoral "Apostle of Chaos"?

Dolores doesn't know how she left.The memory seems to be a little fuzzy, like a puff of smoke, and it suddenly fades away from her eyes. She only remembers the clown's pale face with some flowers, and his meaningless laughter.

... She won't let anyone know her secrets easily. The high frequency of coincidences is disturbing. A person who can always avoid death?She could imagine the series of problems that would arise if this were known.Curious, greedy, experimenting, plundering—maybe she'll actually be forced to touch the ugly side of the world herself.

But when the clown discovered this, she didn't panic. It might even be better to say that she calmly revealed the secret to the clown.

——how could I do this?

She asked herself, but even she couldn't tell.That seemed like a certainty.The clown will not be interested in this - maybe he will find it interesting for a while, but he will only regard her "special" as an object picked up casually, and quickly leave behind.

He already has an object of attachment.Dolores vaguely senses this, so she's safe from the Joker.To him, she was like "justice", "interest", "wealth", and "power", meaningless.

...Because he saw through her absurd life of wanting to die, would the clown let her go so badly?

Dolores sighed softly.

She wasn't happy at all.

not at all.

……

It's not particularly easy to find someone in Gotham City.

On such a rainy day, the buildings of Gotham seem to be cast in black shadows, and pedestrians have a calm indifference on their faces, walking through every alley and every road, they can't help worrying about what will happen A foreseeable surprise.

Dolores leaned the handle of her umbrella on her shoulder and glanced up at the beautiful building. The second-floor windows were open, and the wind blew up the curtains, leaving wet marks. Otherwise, the house was almost Impeccable.

Dolores rang the doorbell.

[No. 441, Charles Street, District [-]]

"Di-"

There was no reply for a while.

Dolores couldn't resist ringing the doorbell again.

After a long time, a voice came from the door, showing guard and vigilance: "Who is it?"

Standing on the narrow stairs, Dolores felt a harsh coldness in the wind.She trembled uncontrollably, standing in front of the gate of fate like a shabby traveler, knocking on the golden gate with red curled fingers, waiting for the final judgment of fate: "... hello, may I ask Lu Xiu Is Mr Fox Fox there?"

The other party's voice seemed to be stabbed: "You are in the wrong place, there is no Lucius Fox here."

Dolores paused.Her expression was a little stagnant, as if she had been hit in the head: "...No. Isn't your place [441 Charles Street, Nineteenth District]? I'm sorry... This is very important to me, and I'm really anxious to find this Mr. Fox."

"I said it! There is no damn Fox here!" The other party became anxious, "Get lost!"

Dolores gripped the handle of the umbrella tightly in her hand.Her gaze shifted slightly, and suddenly froze.

"...well," she murmured, "maybe I'm in the wrong place."

She turned around, walked down the steps slowly, and walked around the fence. The patter of rain hit the umbrella, and she could feel the eyes sticking to her back through the narrow hole like a gangrene—until she felt Dolores finally stopped when she was completely separated from the eyes stuck behind the door by the street.

Dolores took out her mobile phone and calmly dialed a number familiar to all Americans.The wind fluttered her clothes and long hair, but she was unmoved.

The moment the phone was connected, Dolores's expression remained the same, but his voice became flustered in an instant, and seemed to be crying faintly: "...Hello? The police station? I'm on Charles Street in the 441th district of Gotham City No. [-], there was a burglary here..."

The unfinished words were cut off by her, then she hung up the phone calmly, paused for a while, then looked back at the window that was shaking in the wind and rain.

"...Maybe it's not burglary," she raised her eyebrows, and said to herself, "The possibility of burglary is greater?"

……

Wayne Building.

The sky was gloomy, and the dark clouds enveloped this iconic Gotham building.The dreary weather makes people drowsy and indescribably depressing.

Bruce Wayne sat on the leather office chair, yawned slightly, loosened his tie with one hand, and listened casually to the work report.His close friends and subordinates disregarded his poor state mercilessly, and continued to read those long and boring reports firmly.

— Nothing more than reports and performance reports.A few days ago, he had seen it carefully in Wayne Manor, but now he had to pretend to be the ignorant and playboy Master Wayne, enduring the meaningless torture.

Lucius should really be given a vacation.Bruce Wayne propped his face in one hand, squinting his eyes in thought.

A sudden ringing of the phone interrupted the boring report.

It's Lucius Fox's phone.

"... Oh, it's great, I can finally rest." Wayne murmured.Lucius glanced at him, and the young rich man immediately shrugged and made an innocent expression, "—I didn't say anything."

Knowing what he was thinking, Lucius rolled his eyes, picked up the phone, and was about to press mute, but stopped when he glanced at the number displayed on it.He picked up the call.

"Hello?...Yes, I'm Lucius Fox....What?!" He stood up, frowning, "Okay—I see, thank you officer."

--police officer?

Entrusted with the part-time job of that amateur superhero, Bruce Wayne was extremely sensitive to the word "police officer". He pricked up his ears and stared at it calmly.

Lucius over there has put down his cell phone and picked up the coat that was originally on the chair: "... Well, congratulations, Mr. Wayne, obviously you can escape this boring and unnecessary routine report gone."

"...What happened?" He still had that relaxed expression on his face, but his body tensed up unconsciously. This may be said to be a kind of professional inertia—after he had been a vigilante for so long, "Did I hear the word 'police officer' just now? Oh, Lucius, have you done anything illegal?"

He was joking with big thorns, fitting the mask of "Bruce Wayne", "Don't worry, because you are an old employee of Wayne Group-I can help you solve it, provided that this illegal It's not about 'covering up the Wayne Corporation for tax evasion'."

Lucius rolled his eyes, helpless at his boss's silly joke.

He sighed, looking a little tired: "...Actually, it's not a big deal... Two thieves sneaked into my house. You know, this kind of thing always happens once or twice a month." He looked Looking at his boss, he pressed his temples with a headache, "—but I really don't understand why thieves always like to patronize my house. How does my house look rich? I am obviously very poor!"

"I quite agree with this point." Wayne nodded seriously, and he touched his chin, "Why don't you move to the newly developed real estate of Wayne Group? ... just to boost sales—— 'Where the president of the Wayne Group lives' sounds good?"

"Come on." Lucius sighed, "I didn't mean to joke with you. I have to go to the police station—"

"Goodbye, no." Bruce Wayne waved his hand without friendship, "I'll give you an afternoon off, Lucius. Don't come - I don't want to hear any kind of report from a man .”

Lucius: "..." What a damn boss!

……

Dolores sat in the warm room of the police station with her hands clasped on her lap.The clock hanging on the wall behind was ticking non-stop, and her heart was struggling while waiting.

Waiting is a torment.Her thoughts are slowly diverging, and she is constantly searching for the information she wants.Lucius Fox exists, the correct address, the correct name, so, will she be able to get the correct information?

The police officer with half-gray hair opened the door and walked in. He glanced at Dolores and walked to his seat.

"Aren't you from Gotham?" The officer opened the seat with one hand, put on his glasses, and watched Dolores carefully for a while, the police officer suddenly said.

Dolores raised her head in a daze: "...Yes."

"You can tell just by looking at it." He twitched the corner of his lips casually, "Gotham people are not like you. ... Where are you from?"

"New York, I'm from New York."

"New York? Oh, that sounds familiar." The police officer took off his glasses and wiped them with a cloth. "I remember... the capital of the United States?"

"..." Dolores fell silent, "No, not New York."

The atmosphere was suddenly awkward.

"...It's not important, young man." The police officer coughed, "When you reach my age, you will know that geopolitics, whether the capital is the capital or not, are all irrelevant things—"

--All right.Assume so.

Dolores looked at the officer without saying a word.

The police officer picked up the pen on the side and tapped on the table: "So...you reported this burglary?"

"Yes." Dolores nodded.

"...why would you be there, a New Yorker? I don't remember it being an attraction."

"I just happened to be looking for someone there, Sergeant," said Dolores, "that's what they're stealing from, so I'd like to ask you, if that man—his name is Lucius Fox, if he comes here, I hope to meet him."

The police officer stared at Dolores and frowned slightly: "Okay——I understand what you mean..."

Before the voice fell, the door was opened.