*Chapter 6: The Story*

"It was probably the summer I was seven. My parents and I went mountain climbing. I was pretty bold back then and loved walking along dangerous cliffs. I had good balance and could walk on those narrow, cramped mountain paths like they were flat ground."

"And this time, we climbed halfway up the mountain. It was drizzling, but I still stepped onto a natural stone bridge suspended in the air like usual. I still remember the undulating mountain ranges, the rainwater flowing down the ridgelines, gathering into countless small streams. They leaped through the mountains like playful spirits, finally flowing into the river at the foot of the mountain, making a gurgling..."

"Hold on, hold on." Drake frowned and reached out to stop Cody from continuing. "We're not Sherlock Holmes, and you don't need to describe things like Watson to hook the reader. Can you just get to the point?"

"Isn't it fine though?" Mrs. Camilla smiled and gently patted Drake. "Mr. Cody is quite talented at telling stories."

"Anyway, while climbing, I fell off a cliff and landed in a cave."

Cody immediately simplified his story: "In the cave, there was a Santa Claus roasting a reindeer. He told me that as long as I told the story of falling into this cave to someone, it would cure all their illnesses. Then he rode off on the remaining eight reindeer."

"..." Cody's few sentences instantly wiped the smile off Mrs. Camilla's face. "Cody, I'm a Christian."

"Ah, sorry." Cody shrugged. "At least we know now that Santa Claus is real."

"Hmm?"

Drake subconsciously looked at Camilla, then his pupils contracted sharply.

Cody leaned back, crossed his legs, and hummed a tune, feeling a strange sense of relief.

"Old trees in front of the door grow new buds, withered trees in the yard bloom again~"

Silky green strands of hair grew from her bald scalp, like willow branches sprouting new buds in early spring. In just a few seconds, a waterfall of golden hair cascaded down to her waist. Her emaciated body gradually filled out, returning to a shapely female figure. Her pale and loose skin rapidly became rosy and firm, no longer sickly pale.

Seeing his wife, who had been tormented by illness for several years, transform back into that beautiful and moving woman in seconds, tears welled up in Drake's eyes.

So beautiful... just like the first time he saw her.

Camilla looked at her hands, which had become smooth and fair again, subconsciously stroking the golden hair falling over her shoulder, leaning into Drake's arms and silently shedding tears.

"Stored up so many words for half a lifetime—"

Cody was still gently humming a tune the two of them couldn't understand. Drake held his wife, who was frozen in place, and for a moment, he couldn't say a word.

He had endured with her for so, so long, enduring until her hair was gone, enduring until her body was withered, her face sallow; enduring until she gradually weakened, broken, almost fading away.

She had endured with him for so, so long, enduring until he lost his job, enduring until he sold his house, his savings depleted; enduring until he gradually became pained, despairing, hysterical.

She was almost unable to bear it anymore, she thought, she was almost going to give up.

It's a good thing I hung on, he thought, it's a good thing I didn't give up.

My first Rapid Health Recovery is gone, Cody thought. Drake had better find me a reliable job.

******

*This book was first published on 101kan.com, providing you with an error-free and non-sequential chapter reading experience.*

The next day.

"Drake, how long have you and your wife been in Gotham?"

"About a year. Why do you ask?"

"You waited for Victor for a whole year?"

"To be precise, eight months. After eight months, Dr. Victor disappeared in that accident. I've been trying to get in touch with his former collaborating companies, but they went under too quickly. That's why I've been looking for clues about Mr. Freeze recently."

"Good thing you didn't find him."

Cody shrugged. "Since you've been here for a year, you must have built up some connections and contacts, right?"

Drake immediately understood what Cody meant. "I'll do my best to help you find some jobs that are suitable for outsiders and not too dangerous, but you have to remember, there's no truly legitimate work in Gotham. If we want to live well here, we have to abandon our moral bottom line. Everything is just for survival."

"That's a little tough..." Cody sighed. "Considering my physique, murder and arson aren't very realistic. And based on my IQ and skills, theft and fraud would likely be discovered on the spot. I neither want to rely on this face to hook up with a rich gangster lady who likes chopping people up, nor can I make money here with my lousy writing—"

"Alright, alright, say no more." Drake waved his hand. When Cody finished the first two sentences, half of the jobs he had in mind were eliminated. When Cody finished the last two sentences, only three jobs were left in his mind.

"Let me just confirm." He tried to make his words as subtle as possible. "Besides writing, do you have any other skills?"

"Driving, counting." Cody tilted his head and thought. "That's it."

"How about cleaning, cooking, stuff like that?"

Cody gave an awkward but polite smile: "A little, but not much. Just enough to keep myself alive."

"..."

They looked at each other. In this strange atmosphere, Drake asked, "Well, do you have any money?"

"If I had money, why would I be looking for a job?"

"...How about you think about, maybe, going back into that cave to look for Santa Claus?"

Cody also realized his requests were a bit difficult, and he awkwardly coughed twice: "Ahem, as long as the job is relatively safe, that's fine."

Drake pondered, then suddenly thought of something: "Waiting tables?"

"No problem!"

Seeing Cody agree, Drake breathed a sigh of relief. "Gotham is different from other cities. The industries, big and small, are all controlled and protected by gangs. Some are even run by gangs directly. I've built up a connection this year that might help you find a job in a restaurant to get on your feet, but you have to know, no matter what job you take, it'll have some connection to gangs."

"As long as they don't ask me to help chop people up with a knife while I'm working, and nobody comes to chop me up with a knife while I'm working, then the rest isn't a big issue."

Hearing this, Drake snapped his fingers lightly and took out his phone to make a call. "Since you say that, then it's fine."

"Ring, ring, ring—Ring, ring, ring—"

"Hello?"

After ringing for a full two minutes, the call was finally answered. A rough male voice came from the other side: "Drake, what's up?"

"Bang!"

Cody heard it clearly: a gunshot rang out on the other end of the phone.

***