mtl008 Chapter 3303 Bloody New City (52)
Chapter 3303 Bloody New City (52)
Chapter 3303 Bloodshed in New City (Fifty-Two)
Batman had never seen Gordon so miserable.
While he was standing in Gordon's office waiting for him, he saw James Gordon, who was soaking wet, walk in from the door. Because the heating in the police station was insufficient, he shivered a little.
Batman watched him walk in speechlessly, followed him with his eyes and asked, "What did you do?"
"Nothing." Gordon took a deep breath and said, "I just accidentally fell into the Gotham River and saved someone by the way."
"Who?"
"Landon Havitser, who was just released on bail."
"Why is he in the Gotham River?"
Gordon glanced at Batman, and Batman had never seen such a look before. This made Batman's heart jump, because he always felt that his old friend was beginning to become a stranger.
"Will he appear in court?" Batman asked.
"I don't know." Gordon went to the lounge to change his clothes. He came out in a dry uniform, but his hair was still wet. But he didn't wipe it, but just slumped in the chair.
Batman saw that his face was extremely pale, and it was not just because of fatigue. There was something inexplicable that was eating him up from the inside.
Gordon closed his eyes and scattered images began to flash through his mind.
No one knew that James Gordon, who graduated from the police academy, had the highest success rate in ground pursuits among the graduates of the Chicago Police Academy. He was an excellent driver.
After becoming police chief, he rarely used this technique, but just yesterday, he forced Havitser's car into the river.
Then I saw Schiller standing on the bridge.
Schiller saw him. Gordon was so sure of it that he might even be after him. He had planned all this. Once he made his move, there would be no turning back.
A second before the car was completely submerged, Gordon jumped off the bridge and pulled out the half-drowned Havitser and his lawyer.
He thought Schiller would try to stop it, but he just stood quietly on the river bank, watching Gordon use all his strength to rescue the two men, then called an ambulance and sent them to the hospital.
The police car Gordon had driven was a disabled vehicle, and as he staggered, soaking wet, toward the nearest road, another car pulled up in front of him.
The car window was lowered, revealing Schiller's face. Gordon said nothing and sat silently in the passenger seat.
"Which do you think will arrive first, the thank-you letter or the handcuffs?" Schiller asked out loud.
Gordon rarely asked Schiller if he minded smoking, but took out a cigarette with trembling fingers and put it in his mouth. The weak flame of the lighter swung at the end of the cigarette several times before it was successfully lit.
Gordon took a deep breath and leaned back, like a drug addict intoxicated by the pleasure.
"What are you thinking about?" Schiller asked again.
"I'm wondering which prison is more suitable for me."
"Did they see it was you?" Schiller turned his head and asked him as he turned the steering wheel, as if complaining, "You were too careless to drive a police car."
"Isn't this what you want?" Gordon said, looking out the window while holding a cigarette. "The reporters should have already rushed to the hospital, right?"
"I'm afraid so." Schiller nodded and said, "You will soon see on TV the scene where Havizer accuses the police of killing people. I won't ask you what you are going to do. I just want to ask, what were you thinking when you jumped off the bridge?"
Gordon's eyes were a little empty, as if he had let go of all his thoughts and was not thinking about anything. But when he heard Schiller's question, he came back to his senses and touched the police badge on his chest.
"I'm not saving him, I'm saving myself."
Schiller paused for a moment, his tone finally fluctuated, and he said, "Am I the first person who wants to emphasize your stupidity to you so much?"
"Of course not." Gordon actually laughed and said, "You came too late. Not only are you not the first, you are not even in the top 100."
"Who's the first one?"
"My instructor at the Chicago Police Academy, my teacher, said if I chose to throw myself into a pile of shit, I had to be prepared to turn into a maggot one day."
Gordon lit another cigarette, gritted his teeth and frowned, his voice revealing a ferocious temperament that he had never shown to anyone before, like a wolf that had been hungry for several days and suddenly smelled blood.
"It seems that you don't understand one thing. I uphold the rules not because I admire these things that have never been able to protect ordinary people well. I do this to maintain my status."
"If the law only protects the interests of the upper class, then I, who uphold the law, am just another kind of lackey. It's not that I don't know this, but I need this position more than anyone else."
Gordon looked up again, his eyes blurred in the smoke. He held a cigarette in his hand and said, "The kindness of the weak is a burden and is useless. Only with a gun in hand can you save people. And in order to let them hand over the gun to me with confidence, I must be a rule enforcer and let them think I am an obedient dog."
"But now you are not," Schiller said. "You opened your mouth, but you didn't bite anyone to death. They will soon realize that you are not safe."
"They never really thought I was safe, they just couldn't do anything to me. Just like you."
Schiller turned his head to look at him and slammed on the brakes. Gordon's forehead hit the side window. The Gotham Police Department sign glowed in the morning mist.
“You’ve arrived,” Schiller said.
Gordon took the last puff of his cigarette, turned to Schiller and said, "I know you didn't really have no other options, but no matter what your reason was for not doing that, I want to thank you."
He stood up and walked out of the car, but he still opened the door, leaned over, looked at Schiller who was sitting in the driver's seat and said, "But I also want to warn you, it's best not to fall into my hands."
With a bang, the car door was closed. Schiller watched Gordon walk into the police station. He also reached out and took out a cigarette, but after lighting it, he did not smoke it. Instead, he quietly watched the smoke drifting in the car.
He had to admit that when he saw Gordon jump off the Gotham Bridge, his brain stopped working for a moment and he briefly forgot the countless plans in his mind.
The Gotham Bridge is 187 meters high. If a human jumps from this height and touches the water, there is absolutely no chance of survival.
Gordon was not crazy, he was not committing suicide. He was betting that Schiller would save him.
Schiller used gray fog to destroy the tension on the water surface, allowing Gordon to enter the water safely and rescue the two people.
Schiller didn't know what to make of James Gordon.
He rarely encounters such a complex person in Marvel, who has the characteristics of both a hero and a madman, but they are integrated perfectly.
Schiller showed up only to put pressure on Gordon.
If he hadn't been discovered, he could have treated it as if it had never happened. But once there were onlookers, Schiller's presence would constantly remind him that he had broken his own principles and no longer had the legitimacy and purity of the past.
When a pure white dress has one stain, there will be countless more. Because when people find that the first stain cannot be removed, they will assume that it doesn't matter how dirty the dress is. The same is true for police uniforms.
But Gordon found the only way out of this dead end - he chose to jump off the bridge, throwing the question of "to save or not to save" back to Schiller.
And Schiller had no choice.
In this moment, Gordon is a madman. But most of the time, he is a hero.
And Schiller could never watch a hero die.
Schiller saved Gordon, but also left an eternal mystery. That is, if he had not shown up, would Gordon choose to save those two people?
Gordon will never answer this question, or perhaps this is an answer.
Schiller did not feel frustrated that he had become a superfluous factor in his own plan. He just felt a little emotional.
In a city like this, it might be right for Arrogance to choose to live his life well. No one here needs to be saved.
After finishing a cigarette, Schiller opened the car window and restarted the car. He arrived at the door of a bar, parked the car on the side of the bar, and walked in through the side door.
This is downtown. A man dressed like this walking into a cheap bar here would always raise eyebrows. But the atmosphere in the bar was high, and no one paid attention to Schiller sitting in the corner.
He ordered a drink and sat against the wall, listening to the noise in the bar. The loudest sound was not the deafening passionate music, but the roar of a person.
"Pol is dead! The son of a bitch is finally dead! I don't care who that Hick is, he's the best fucking boxer in this city! I'll buy all his money next time he fights!"
Cheers immediately broke out in the bar. But soon, someone said with a sad face, "But there was another explosion on Lark Street, killing more than a dozen people. Do you think those criminals will come to our side?"
"Have you heard? Willy's daughter was assassinated." Someone suddenly said, "It seems that someone broke into her house and almost beat her to death. Fortunately, she ran fast."
"Willie? Is that the Gladiator Willy?" Someone immediately responded, "He was the one who took people to the gate of Bol's factory to get back their wages. Was it him?"
"That's him. That guy is a tough guy. I heard that he didn't run away after being hit with batons twice. Instead, the police were afraid of him. I think his daughter is not in high school yet?"
"It seems so. I met that girl once. Did she have red hair and some freckles on her face?"
Suddenly, someone in the crowd stood up. He was a fat man who looked to be over 200 pounds and wore a cap. He said, "I have to go to Willy's house to see if I can let the little girl fall into the hands of those bastards."
"Are you crazy? Those killers might not have left yet!"
"I'm not going to fight them, I'm just going to take a look. If I can find her, I'll ask my aunt to secretly send her to Bludhaven. At least she won't lose her life this way."
"I'll go with you. We'll just hang around her house. She shouldn't be able to get too far."
"Then I'll go too. I'll keep watch for you."
The noise in the bar soon ended, and Schiller finished his glass of wine. Fiona was smarter than he thought. She learned quickly, and it was possible that the Pale Knight taught her something. It would be beneficial for her to announce the assassination.
Schiller drove to Willy's house. He arrived quickly, and the group had not yet arrived. He saw that the door was open, broken glass was scattered on the floor, and blood was in the middle of the living room.
Schiller put on his shoe covers, walked around the living room twice, clicked his tongue, and said, "You're still too naive."
After saying that, he returned to the car, took out a bottle of windshield washer fluid from the trunk, and returned to the house. After unscrewing the bottle cap, the liquid inside the bottle was dark red.
After finishing everything, Schiller sat in the car and watched through the window as a group of people sneaked to Willy's door.
The person who stretched his head to look in the window immediately screamed.
"Blood! There's blood!!!"