*Chapter 9: Cat*

"Bang!"

"You son of a gun! Do you know how to talk in Gotham now?!"

"Bang! Bang!"

"You old geezer, you're not the only one with a gun in Gotham!"

Watching the two bus drivers immediately pull out their guns and start shooting at each other without a word, the passengers in both buses nimbly climbed out the windows, skillfully finding safe cover. The unlucky folks hit by stray bullets found their own cover and pulled out their guns, joining the fray. Those who weren't hit quietly waited for the gunfight to end. The whole process flowed smoothly, chaotic yet orderly. The passengers' reactions weren't exactly well-trained, but you could at least say they were well-practiced.

Caught in the middle of this orderly daily life in Gotham City's East End, Cody couldn't help but be moved to tears by the lively, down-to-earth "fireworks show." "Drake, you son of a gun, if you wanted me dead, you could've just said so. You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"This is the fastest and safest bus we can catch in the East End," Drake shook his head. "If you take other buses, you'll either get boxed in by cars with guns during a traffic jam, or maybe get your wallet stolen on the bus, or worse – in Gotham, someone gets raped on a bus every week, or just disappears after getting off."

As Drake went on and on, a stray bullet flew sideways and directly hit the corner of the concrete right next to Cody, making his already anxious heart pound even harder. "Isn't it possible I could still get my head blown off by a bullet in this situation?!"

"Trust me," Drake gave him a smug grin. "This bus is different. Most of the people on it are here for revenge. Every wrong has its root, every debt its owner. A lot of times in Gotham, people have beef but it's not convenient or they don't want to settle it by the book. When that happens, a bunch of 'em will set up a meet here."

"Maybe you stole one of my customers, or I sold you a bag of fake goods, or maybe we just bumped shoulders on the street. Doesn't matter. We both know that stuff isn't the real reason we're pulling guns, but we just can't freakin' take it anymore."

"Anyway, anything you can't deal with on the spot, you can settle here – you can buy cheap weapons anytime on a bus full of desperados. Everyone's got nothing but a messed-up life and a pile of crap to deal with. You and I draw guns, we settle who's better and who lives or dies. The dead guy's body gets dumped in the ocean, taking care of everything. The guy who lives blows off some steam, and goes right back to living his crappy life."

"So unless some psycho decides they don't like the look of us and starts chasing us down, as guys just riding the bus, we're pretty much safe – and this corner here is a prime spot I specifically picked out. Good view, hidden, decent distance. You can peek out to watch the show, stay out of sight, and be right back at the bus the second it's over."

"I've been hiding out here for six months straight. The worst injury I got was just twisting my ankle from running too fast."

Cody listened to his explanation and couldn't help but feel a sense of respect. Drake had been in Gotham for a year, after all, and was already starting to look like a real Gothamite, the genuine article. Check out his brain, huh, check out his attitude, huh, check out his adaptability...

"Bang!" A bullet hit the ground by Cody's foot, cutting off his thoughts.

"Hey, you punks over there! I've been watching you for ages! Riding the bus for half a year, treating our fight like entertainment? You got the guts to show yourselves?! I'm gonna kill you bastards today!"

"?"

Cody looked at Drake, then listened to the shouting from a distance, and suddenly didn't feel like being friends with him anymore.

"This is what you call safe?"

"How was I supposed to know there'd be some crazy guy who's been riding this bus for half a year and hasn't died yet?! And he's specifically targeting me and riding the bus just for that! I'm so low-key..."

"Bang! Bang!"

Seeing two more bullets fly over, Cody's heart felt like it was about to jump out of his throat.

"Cut the crap! Think of something!"

Drake looked around. This spot was great in every way except for the escape routes. To slip out and run to another street, they'd have to expose themselves in the enemy's line of fire for about three to four seconds.

Facing the threat of death, Drake seemed to become unusually calm. In his mind, he planned the escape route over and over, considering the possible scenarios, the best posture, and evasion maneuvers. At this moment, he was like John Wick possessed, or Agent 47 from a game – emotionless, all logic.

"Don't be scared, I'll get us out of here."

He analyzed the situation calmly, as if he wasn't being hunted in the rain of bullets in Gotham City, but leisurely chatting on a bustling street in Metropolis.

He quickly planned an escape route in his mind, seemingly seeing himself nimbly roll behind the bus, stand up, and use the bus's sturdy engine block to shield against 9mm bullets. In the gaps between the enemy's shots, he'd sprint and leap behind a trash can for cover, then duck low and charge forward, quickly bursting through the door of the bookstore across the street, lightly leaping out of a second-floor window, rolling on landing, and disappearing from the enemy's sight.

Even if the enemy angrily fired several bullets, they would only graze past his cool face, unable to harm him in the slightest.

"Watch what I do."

A composed smile played on his lips. He gently took off one shoe and quickly flashed the tip around the corner of the wall.

"Bang bang!"

Looking at the dress shoe with two new holes, he calmly put it back on.

One second passed.

"You gutless coward! Get out here!"

"Bang!"

Two seconds passed.

"Hahaha, you chicken who won't show your face! Let's see whose gun is harder!"

"Bang! Bang!"

Three seconds—

"What are you doing? Move?" Cody looked at Drake with confusion. "Didn't you say you had a plan?"

"I think it's safer to just hide here," Drake's face showed an awkward but polite smile. "His aim is a little better than I expected. If we went with the plan, we'd probably have a few more holes in us in the first second we were out there."

"......"

I was so stupid, really. Cody lifted his listless eyes and thought: I only knew Drake had lived in Gotham for a year, could find a reliable way, and could help me find a job so I could live and go to work; I didn't know he was such a clown and so good at attracting trouble.

"Didn't you ever think that someone who could survive on this kind of bus for half a year straight wouldn't have terrible aim?"

"Stop arguing! Think of something! You're the one born and raised in Gotham! You've got Gotham citizenship!"

"I've never even met my parents!"

Just as the two were arguing, Cody suddenly glimpsed someone standing on the rooftop nearby. A graceful figure in black was looking at them, a cat-like smile playing on her lips.