*Chapter 16: Bad Morning, Gotham*

Today is the second day of being in Gotham, and nothing happened.

That's Cody's summary of his second day in Gotham. It was already 10 PM, and he was lying on the living room sofa, closing his eyes peacefully.

Drake and he bought a bunch of groceries on their way home. Camilla was really surprised and happy, making a decent dinner. Everyone ate well, and Drake even talked a lot during dinner about the future plans he and Camilla had made.

Tonight their room wasn't noisy at all. Cody's ears were quiet. He figured last night was just because the couple hadn't had a normal life together for a while, and absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe tonight they were just holding each other quietly in bed.

Regardless, Cody had a peaceful night. Besides the occasional scattered gunshots and the sound of light rain from outside the window, he barely heard any other sounds from Gotham. Looking at the pitch-black night sky, aside from the bright, colorful lights through the hazy rain curtain, there were no other messy lights. Maybe he could finally get a good night's sleep.

I guess I've been tamed by Gotham, he thought. Just being able to get a good night's sleep feels a little bit like happiness.

But looking at it another way, maybe the city isn't as crazy as he imagined. Big events don't happen in Gotham every single day.

That's what he was thinking, so he opened his eyes and subconsciously glanced out the window. A blurry black figure zipped across the tallest clock tower in Gotham, and someone was dangling from a gargoyle statue on the side of the building, swinging back and forth, seemingly still struggling and begging for mercy.

He silently retracted his previous thought and lay back down on the sofa to sleep.

Nothing happened, my ass. Another poor sap got hooked by Batman's grapple gun and strung up on a gargoyle today. Hope he doesn't get scarred for life after they cut him down.

The next day, Cody woke up and got ready as usual at 7 AM. It wasn't that he liked waking up so early, but last night's rain was really hypnotic, and he slept so well that when he woke up at 7, he just couldn't fall back asleep.

It was fine.

He headed into the kitchen and started making breakfast. He'd bought eggs, milk, cheap ham, and some bread yesterday. It was just a matter of frying it up and making a sandwich. He had at least that much cooking skill.

The sizzling sound of frying woke up Drake and Camilla in their room. They seemed to have slept well last night too; just a little noise from Cody woke them right up.

"Morning."

"Morning."

Mrs. Camilla seemed to be in even better spirits than yesterday. For a long time, she had been tormented by the double whammy of mental stress and lack of sleep from her illness. Last night was practically the best night's sleep she'd had in a year.

After breakfast, Cody said goodbye to them and headed out. He had work today. Getting to the restaurant early wasn't necessarily a bad thing; he could get a little familiar with the surrounding area.

As for riding the Old Jack bus, that was definitely not happening again.

He wasn't riding the bike today either. He tucked the Beretta pistol into his waistband and stepped outside. The streets were already quite busy. Some people with gloomy expressions and hurried steps were rushing along, stepping aside when they saw people with tattoos or those with unsteady steps and pale faces, just to avoid trouble.

These are the true colors of Gotham, Cody thought silently. Not black, not white, but a struggling, zombie-like gray.

Even someone like Drake could carve out a little breathing room in Gotham with his courage and a bit of savings. But these bottom-rung civilians, who have nothing and almost no margin for error in their lives, are the foundation upon which Gotham's criminal network grows.

Someone might agree to run drugs for a gang just to buy their daughter a birthday cake. A single mother might become a streetwalker just to earn some money for formula for her child.

What a messed up world, Cody thought. Gotham City's booming crime industry is built on their suffering.

But if you took down all the criminals, would they really be able to live differently?

The sense of security that comes with living a predictable life vanished without a trace. Cody's day started off in a bad mood.

Bad morning, dumbass Gotham.

Cody hailed a taxi. He'd only brought less than two hundred in cash with him, just in case he got robbed. Anyway, he could take tips home at night. He'd already figured it out; if he was lucky enough and the tips were good today, it wouldn't be a bad idea to just use it to buy a wheelchair.

He could find a deserted place and mod it immediately. Basic Wheelchair Driving only cost a hundred asset points, plus the modding service, for a total of two hundred asset points.

Now this, this is maximum cost-effectiveness.

Once he got in the car, Cody adjusted the position of his pistol slightly so the driver could see it in the rearview mirror, and then he started scrolling through his system shop.

He couldn't help it. Cabs willing to start from the East End were all hardened veterans. If he didn't show his gun a little, he'd be more worried about attracting trouble.

Of course, this also had something to do with him not being part of a gang. Otherwise, having gang tattoos and symbols on him could also serve as self-protection. As for how safe that made you, well, that depended on the size and influence of the gang.

Basic Car Driving Mastery, five hundred dollars. Hmm, pretty good deal. Intermediate, two thousand dollars? That's a bit steep... Advanced, ten thousand?! Seriously, are these skills for rally racing?!

There's also Bicycle Driving Mastery, but that skill is useless. Hmm... what's this? System Record Board, System Custom Q&A? One dollar per question? I knew the future of AI applications was bright. Look, even this cheat system has built-in AI Q&A.

"Feels less impressive than Mobius..."

"Sir, we're here."

The taxi driver's voice interrupted Cody's muttering. He took a look and saw that it was barely 7:40 AM.

Sigh, Old Jack really sucks, huh.

"That'll be fifty-seven dollars."

Sigh, no need to talk about how much Old Jack's worth.

This hellhole Gotham, even taking a cab is this expensive.

Cody, still muttering to himself, paid and got out. If he hadn't had his gun visible, the driver's quote probably would have been closer to a hundred bucks.

He walked along the street, wandering around the blocks and streets surrounding the Red Dragon restaurant to get familiar with the area, before finally entering the restaurant through the back door.

It was 8 AM, and there were hardly any people inside the restaurant – just the guys in black doing security, some waiters about to finish their shift, and the front desk person on rotation. Cody said hello to his colleagues, then found the manager and returned a book to him.

It was the restaurant's training manual. Normally, new hires were supposed to go through a period of training, but Cody's situation, being broke and needing work urgently, was pretty unusual. So Donald (presumably the boss) made an exception and allowed him to learn on the job. The manager had given him the book yesterday, and he didn't expect it back today.

"You memorized the book?"

"A day was enough. I used to do this all the time before exams."