*Chapter 20: A Calm Day*

(give like if you want me continue this story)

"Screech—"

The truck's brakes slammed on. Batman reached out a hand, as if with immense power, effortlessly taking control of the steering wheel from Carl.

"Carl Scott."

A cold, emotionless voice came from its mouth, a duet with a hoarse electronic tone, like some kind of demon sound that had come from hell to earth, making Carl's legs tremble.

"You know two people from the Falcone family."

"I..." Carl instinctively wanted to deny it, but the words got stuck in his throat. He just couldn't bring himself to say them.

Batman's eyes, which had no pupils, stared at him. The icy gaze felt like it could pierce right through him.

But he couldn't just volunteer information about the Falcone family. So, after a moment of stunned silence, he still stammered, "I... I'm just a truck driver..."

"What did those two make you do at four AM last Wednesday?"

"I..."

"Three years ago, at dawn on September sixteenth, you were involved in a hit-and-run. The woman with the child was hit, suffered ruptured organs, and died on the spot. You got out, watched her child bleed out and die in her arms with your own eyes, and then you left the scene."

"Two years ago, on December seventh and December twenty-fifth, you smashed a motorcycle and then ran over a drunk lying in the road; last year..."

As Carl listened to the mechanical voice recounting his actions, the fear in his heart swelled even more, finally flipping into a guilty, hysterical rage. "That's enough! I don't know what you're talking about! You freak..."

"Snap."

"Ah—!"

The black handgun dropped to the ground. Carl's right arm, which he had tried to pull the gun from, was now just a limp, slightly deformed thing dangling by his side.

"Answer my question."

The voice of the bat-monster remained calm and cold, as if it wasn't the one who had just snapped Carl's arm.

"I'm not gonna... Ah!"

"Snap."

Carl fell out of the big truck's door and onto the ground. Just now, he had tried to open the door with his left hand to escape, so this time it was his right leg that broke.

"Okay, okay! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

The intense pain from his right arm and leg made Carl wish he were dead. He couldn't dare to stand up to this monster for two so-called "good buddies" now. "I'll tell you everything! Don't do anything else to me!"

Batman got down from the truck and effortlessly lifted him up with just one hand, like he was a small chicken. It fired a grapple line with a swing of its hand, and a few seconds later, their figures ascended rapidly, quickly landing on the roof of a nearby building.

"Talk."

...

When Carl finished confessing everything he knew, he saw Batman stop its intense gaze on him and couldn't help but let out a long sigh.

"I've told you everything I can. Can you let me go now?"

However, Batman didn't even turn its head. It just reached for Carl's phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, Gotham City Police Department."

"Tell Gordon to come to Otisburg district to make an arrest. There's a wanted suspect here who has committed multiple hit-and-runs and intentional homicides."

Hearing their conversation, Carl's eyes instantly turned red with fury. "No! You can't do this to me! You lying, messed-up freak!"

"Thwack!"

A fist the size of a sandbag gently connected with his mouth, making all his teeth wobble precariously. His two front teeth were knocked directly onto the ground.

Carl, with one side of his face severely swollen, immediately fell silent.

"I'll keep the phone line open. You can find him in the big truck by following the location," it said, picking Carl up again and delivering a chop to the back of his neck, instantly knocking him unconscious.

"Get here fast, and remember to call an ambulance."

As the last words fell, the black bat spread its wings again and soared into the night sky, disappearing into the thick darkness above Gotham City. It still had to rush to its next target.

As always, night after night.

...

"Where did you get this weird thing?"

"What weird thing? I used it to zip back here from Otisburg in twelve minutes. Please show some respect for my ride."

"What? This unicycle flies?"

"It's a wheelchair, thank you."

Cody casually flipped the unicycle, and it turned back into the ghost-flame wheelchair. The colorful lights were off now though; having the炫彩 lights on indoors would really be light pollution.

"..." Drake fell into a short silence. From his perspective, neither a wheelchair nor a unicycle really fit his stereotype of a high-speed vehicle.

Yeah, stereotype.

"Anyway, was work pretty smooth today?"

"Harvey Dent showed up."

"...There wasn't a fight?"

"You did know what was going on over there, didn't you!"

"I'm not an idiot. I pick up on some rumors too."

Seeing that Cody's emotions seemed a little unstable, Drake quickly tried to soothe him. "Calm down, calm down. That kind of thing is a rare exception. Harvey doesn't usually go over there."

But when he does go over there, he usually stirs up some serious trouble, either digging up information or forcing someone's hand.

A year ago, someone really couldn't hold back and shot Harvey in his bulletproof vest. That time, from his hospital bed, working with Batman and Commissioner Gordon, he used that opportunity to get a major cleanup of the Falcone family's gray market operations and incidentally caught an important Falcone family member.

"Besides, putting aside those rare incidents, the tips were decent, right?"

"That's true..." As soon as money was mentioned, Cody's mood immediately stabilized. The three hundred asset points he spent today on modifying and riding the vehicle came from his tips.

You could only say that the rich people in Gotham really weren't poor.

The only slight downside was that the perfume of the wealthy lady he served seemed a little too clingy. Cody still had a bit of the scent on his right butt cheek, making him sigh about how sweaty that auntie's hands must have been.

Well, you gotta make a living, right?

That night, Cody casually flipped through the waiter's notes recorded on the system board. After all, you clock in, you do the job. As long as the pay was good, he was always dedicated and professional. Learning from good experiences would help him improve his service and earn more tips.

After enjoying a dinner cooked by Mrs. Camila, he took a hot shower, counted his wages, looked reassuredly at the unlucky guy hanging on the gargoyle outside tonight, and then fell into a deep sleep.

Today was Cody's third day in Gotham. Besides running into Harvey Dent, the workplace nearly turning into a shootout, the ghost-flame wheelchair, and being chased and shot at wildly by a few idiots on the way home, nothing else happened.

It was another calm day.