[Gotham] Jerome's Little Bad

When the fireplace was lit, the whole house brightened up.Jerome's men pointed guns at Bruce and Alfred, and a few others searched for valuable antiques in Wayne Manor, or smashed things that were not pleasing to the eye.Another man ripped open the velvet sofa cushions and scattered feathers all over the place.

"This place is really nice." Jerome looked at the aristocratic manor full of age, and asked Bruce, "Is it for rent?"

"What do you want to do?" Bruce is no longer the boy who was afraid of being put on his neck with a knife a year ago. Facing more and more powerful enemies also made him stronger.

"Attitude," Jerome said, a little annoyed to see Bruce like this, "adolescence, eh?"

"Oh, I remember that time, I wanted to kill anyone I saw." Jerome folded his arms, as if he was trapped in a restraint jacket, and said boringly.

At this time, Jerome's men found a crystal owl from the manor. Although he restrained himself, Bruce couldn't help but focus on it.

Apparently Jerome noticed it too, and held out his hand to the man, "You, give it to me."

"I will never understand the taste of the rich," Jerome weighed the heavy owl in his hand and looked at Bruce.

"It's worthless," Bruce said a little impatiently, and then calmly. "My dad found it at the flea market, and I just kept it because it was worth remembering."

"Come on, this thing is quite heavy." Jerome didn't buy it at all, and even slightly lifted the crystal, "I guess it's expensive, but please..."

As Jerome spoke, he deliberately let the crystal owl slip out of his hand.

"No!" Not only Bruce, but even the butler who was hit by the butt of a gun couldn't help but want to catch the falling owl.Although it was not caught, the sturdy crystal object fell on the carpet and was not damaged.

Before Bruce and Alfred breathed a sigh of relief, Jerome picked up the owl again. He was a little disappointed, "It's harder than I thought."

"Whatever!" Jerome threw the crystal owl back without the slightest hesitation, and it just landed on the iron table in front of the fireplace and was smashed to pieces.

"Damn it!" Alfred gritted his teeth.

"I ask what you want to do!" Bruce stood up angrily and asked Jerome.

"Right. Sorry." Jerome apologized insincerely. It was more of a joke, and he pointed to his head. "Just thawed, my brain is still a little stiff."

"I'm here to kill you." Jerome cut to the chase and answered Bruce's question by the way.

The young master, who had almost no grievances with Jerome, didn't quite understand, "Why?"

"It's the last thing I remember wanting to do, and it's been with me since I woke up," Jerome said, flicking out the sharp blade of his dagger, looking at him sullenly. Pretty pink, throat."

"This should clear my mind." The tip of the knife drew an arc towards Bruce, "What do you think?"

The loyal butler couldn't bear the threat of this lunatic to the young master, and couldn't help but want to stop Jerome, but those Jerome's subordinates were not vegetarian either.As long as Alfred moves again, it is estimated that the bullet will penetrate his head.

In order to delay time and protect Alfred, Bruce followed Jerome and said, "I remember that night, you controlled the charity party, and you really stole the limelight."

"Thank you, it's always good to be appreciated." Bruce's words didn't affect Jerome. Jerome twirled the dagger deftly in his hand, just enough for him to grasp it and stab it into Bruce's heart.

"Are you going to kill me here?" Bruce said when the blade was within four inches of his chest. "It's kind of disappointing."

Jerome raised the dagger high and smiled ferociously at Bruce, but as long as Bruce showed a little timidity, he would stab it without hesitation.

But no, Bruce's provocation had some effect.Jerome turned around in distress and retracted the dagger, "What do you mean?"

Although he was still not out of the predicament, Mr. Housekeeper, who had been worried about Bruce, felt relieved when he saw this situation.

"After such an atmosphere exaggeration, you came back from the dead and plunged Gotham into darkness, but in the end you killed me here, not at all..."

Seeing that Bruce had no words, Jerome childishly jumped on the sofa, looked down at Bruce, and gave him a few suggestions, "FlairHmmStyle (chic and stylish)"

Jerome kicked off the cushions on the sofa, took the velvet and flew everywhere, and said dully, "Panache (no style)"

"Goon, boy.Spititout.Icantakeit.(Say it, boy, say it, I can take it.)"

"I'm Bruce Wayne." Bruce said loudly.

"I know." Jerome didn't care at all, and walked up to Bruce, with the knife pressed against his neck.

"I belong to the elite ruling class. My company is the machine that keeps Gotham running normally. Killing me should have a greater meaning. But you told me that no one will see this scene!" Bruce said indignantly, and Jay Rom just walked around him with the dagger.

If Fritz were here, she would clearly know that Jerome, who seemed not interested in what Bruce said, already had an idea.

"You mean I need an audience," Jerome said with the same smile, grabbing the back of Bruce's neck, the tip of the knife had already pierced Bruce's throat.

"Listen, I know you're just trying to buy time to escape." Jerome's face darkened, and he approached Bruce's ear, "But you still have a point."

Jerome smiled, let go of Bruce, and shouted excitedly to his men, "Get ready, guys. We're going out to put on a good show."

Bruce closed his eyes a little scared, he didn't know if this method would work, because Jerome was too moody, but fortunately he made the right bet.

"I happen to know a suitable performance location, let's go." Jerome said to Bruce, then pointed to Alfred who stood up and wanted to follow, and shook his head, "Ahahah, I didn't mention you, old guy. "

"The prince of Gotham should die in full view, his butler forget it, kill him." Jerome didn't care about Alfred at all, it was useless anyway.

"No!" But Bruce was different, he stopped in front of the butler.

"Bruce!" Alfred stopped him, Bruce looked surprised and confused, and the butler comforted him, "You are trained to deal with this kind of situation, and you will be fine alone."

Bruce looked at Alfred who seemed to be confessing his last words, bit his trembling lips, held back his tears, calmed down and said firmly, "We will meet again."

"Hang on, kid, hang on." The one-time soldier encouraged the kid as he did in every difficult moment.

Jerome tugged Bruce's ear impatiently, "You two are really close enough, Comeon."

Jerome pointed the knife at the sofa, "Try not to splatter blood on the sofa, I might come back and sit."

After Jerome left, the playful "smashing and looting" in Wayne Manor continued.

When Alfred was angry, he saw Inspector Gordon who arrived outside the door in time, hinted to Gordon the location of the three subordinates through the quarrel, and the Inspector came out to solve the three men with Alfred.

Jerome took Bruce to the circus, where countless fanatical admirers held their own weapons and excitedly gathered here for this fun party.

The moment the hood was taken off, the glare of the light blurred Bruce's vision, and he stretched out his hand to block the light.Beside him was a lunatic with a gun pointed at him. Bruce looked around blankly. Most of the people in the circus were Jerome's people. They looked like ordinary people who had fun in the circus during the day.But Bruce knew that these people were complete psychos.

Jerome's men caught many innocent Gotham citizens as toys and used them as targets. Maybe it was sandbags or guns that fell on them.

Or being forced to paint their faces with balloons in their mouths, and those lunatics don't care if the sharp darts go through the balloons or stick in people.

Jerome leaned against the railing outside the carousel, watching Bruce's reaction with interest.

"Hit him, beat him flat." Jerome interrupted Fritz, who was playing whack-a-mole with a real person. "Hit that old woman, no, that fat man, hit harder."

"Aah," Jerome sighed in disappointment when Fritz missed.

"Comeon, Sweety." Fritz turned around and made a face at Jerome, but it startled Bruce.

That pretty face was sewn from forehead to chin like a false face.The scariest thing is the part of the right cheek from the corner of the mouth to the side of the face. The person who stitched it may be because of fear or carelessness, which made the stitched part very rough, and the flesh on the cheek is hideous.

In particular, an exaggerated smiley face was painted on her lips with bright lipstick, which looked like she had been slashed from left to right.

"Why did you scare our little cutie?" Fritz walked over and pinched Bruce's face with a smile, while still holding the not-so-light hammer in the other hand, "I'm really not as good-looking as you .”

"Not a bad start, though," Jerome said, putting on a clown hat. "Well, Bruce."

The sinister gaze wrapped around Bruce like a poisonous snake, "Want to have some fun before the official performance?"

Jerome smiled and made an invitation to Bruce. He looked very gentlemanly, but the place he was going to enter was not a happy playground, but hell on earth.

"How about putting on makeup for him?" Fritz picked up the paint used by circus clowns, "I'm pretty good at this."

"No~" Jerome straightened his slightly crooked hat, "We want something new."

It was a red-haired woman who ended up clowning Bruce, and she did a fantastic job of makeup.Obviously it was a gloomy and pitiful clown, but on Bruce's face, it became a coerced resentment.

"Honestly, Bruce," Jerome said, standing behind Bruce and looking at his angry, complicated expression in the mirror, "you're not the funniest clown, but..."

The sharp blade in Jerome's hand bounced away suddenly, causing the red-haired woman to let out a small gasp.

Jerome grabbed Bruce's hair and pulled it back. "We can figure it out."

The blade was on Bruce's neck, but unexpectedly, Jerome flipped the knife into the red-haired woman's stomach, and then pulled it out without hesitation, "Uh."

"Sointeresting!" Fritz shouted excitedly, waving the hammer in her hand.

The red-haired woman was crying in fear and bewilderment, but Jerome put his hand in her wound and twirled indifferently, "Shut up, crybaby."

Jerome restrained Bruce with a knife in one hand, and painted an upside-down smile on his face with the other bloody hand, "Put this frown upside down."

In stark contrast to Jerome's smile is Bruce's expression trembling with anger and grief, coupled with sad clown makeup and a sad face painted with blood, it is a miserable clown who is about to go berserk.

"Is there any plan for this crazy mess? They don't want a plan, what they want is an excuse," Jerome half-armed and half-dragged Bruce to visit this crazy circus, a bit different from Fritz who was next to him. Happy, "Mothers who dream of strangling their children, husbands who want to stab their wives to death."

"They just want someone to tell them," Jerome stopped and looked at Bruce seriously, "Doit! (Do it!)"

"Kill them, it doesn't matter at all." Jerome shrugged and repeated the sentence without expression, "It doesn't. (It doesn't matter)."

Suddenly seeing something and igniting passion, just like a child, seeing a favorite show will get excited, "I like that game."

Jerome dragged Fritz and ran over to play the game, and the subordinate cut Bruce's hands behind his back and controlled him, who was thinking of stopping.

This game is called Beating the Drowning Chicken. Maybe it would be an interesting game in a circus on weekdays, but on this chaotic night, it will only be bloody.

The "drenched chicken" begged desperately, "Please, don't."

Do you hear the screams of ants when you step on them to death?

No, in the eyes of these lunatics, there are only fun toys and howling ants.

Jerome took a small ball from Fritz's hand, which was used to smash the "soaked chicken", walked a little farther, and stood in front of Bruce.

"You don't want to escape the sanction," Bruce said, not as angry as he was just now, but rather cold.

"I have escaped, shut up, I need to concentrate." Jerome was not very happy, this kid always had various ways to disappoint him.

"A gang of brainwashed lunatics can't control this city forever."

"So what." Jerome gave him an impatient, ignorant look.

"What's the point?" Bruce deliberately interrupted Jerome when he was about to throw it. Jerome really couldn't stand Bruce's nagging.

"Slap!" Fritz slapped Bruce as soon as he came over, with helpless annoyance, "You're really long-winded, kid."

Bruce spit out a mouthful of blood, stood up straight, and repeated, "What's the point?"

Jerome turned around, with his hands behind his back, and there was a mocking pity in his eyes, but he didn't know who and what it was for, "The meaning is that all those who are smashing, looting, and killing people are also for you. Someone who washes your car, pours your coffee, takes out your trash."

"What happened when the lights went out?" Jerome's eyes under the hat were the darkness behind the curtain, staring at Bruce, "They showed their true colors, they showed how much they wanted to cut you open The veins of the rich second generation are bathed in your blue blood."

"That's... that's what it means."

The author has something to say: Ahh!! Jamie actually touched Bruce's mouth and put his arm on his shoulder.

Jerome stares at Bruce unconsciously (a series of straight men who never know why their girlfriends are angry)

"Slap" slapped Bruce on the face (Flitz: Huh╭(╯^╰)╮Jamie can only be mine)

PS: blue blood means nobility