Chapter 54 Is it too late to throw him back into the fire?

Although it sounds quite tragic, Zhaodi Ma’s actual situation was not that bad, as his important items were all stored inside the system.

Not only the small pumpkin lantern and props like the Horn of Plenty, but items like his notebook and cell phone were stored the same way. Since these things were all purchased from the system mall anyway, they could all be put away.

His losses were mainly concentrated on the mental front. First of all, the good night of sleep until waking up naturally that he had planned was gone; secondly, even in Gotham, there were not many opportunities to normally see a naked man running amok in the streets with a newspaper covering his backside.

"Damn it, I can't take this anymore."

More and more residents were running out of the surrounding buildings. Zhaodi Ma walked forward wrapped in the newspaper and stripped the jacket off the gang member who had just attacked him: "You have inner layers on, lend me your jacket first."

"I'll go your—wuu, wuu—"

"This isn't called muffling your mouth, this is called helping you build up virtue. You'll know how good I was once you meet Satan."

Saying this, Zhaodi Ma quickly put on the other person's jacket and jeans, while the gang member struggled desperately, looking like he didn't quite appreciate what was being done.

That was understandable, after all, his inner pink thermal pants and the Chibi Superman-patterned thermal shirt were completely exposed. It was hard to imagine what expression his associates would use to face him tomorrow.

It was also at this moment that Batman flew out of the building, holding the last person with one hand.

"Your clothes from home—give him his clothes back."

Zhaodi Ma's mouth twitched as he took the clothes and pants from Batman's hand: "I thank you so much..."

Right at that moment, a voice rang out in the crowd: "Hey, Bat-freak, did you see my bank card in the room?"

"Yeah, and my driver's license too, that's pretty important."

"That's right, you had time to get this guy his clothes and pants, but you didn't have time to find my cell phone?"

"My cash was still left at home, please, Batman, help me..."

Zhaodi Ma looked up at the apartment building that was almost completely engulfed in flames, and listening to the rising wave of voices in his ears, he suddenly felt a surreal and bizarre sensation—a feeling he hadn't experienced for a long time since coming to Gotham.

He hadn't felt it when he was being robbed by Drake, nor when he boarded old Jack's bus, nor even when he met Clinton, started working at the Red Dragon Restaurant, or even when facing psycho killers and prospective supervillains like Harvey Dent, or facing a super freak like Batman.

Back then, he still felt like he could understand Drake a little bit, could understand old Jack, Clinton, Harvey, and Batman a little bit. Aside from that psycho killer whom he couldn't understand, he more or less understood everyone else. Even most of the crazy citizens in Gotham had their own logic; they weren't born criminals.

Only tonight, upon hearing the clamor of the crowd, Zhaodi Ma felt a sense of dissociation.

He couldn't tell whether the mixed gazes projected by the crowd were threatening, greedy, or pleading. Perhaps all three, or perhaps none of the three.

Perhaps it was simply pure malice—malice directed at the unknown.

At this moment, he felt completely out of place in this world. For the first time in his life, he experienced what stupidity laced with malice truly meant.

When people reject something, they unconsciously affirm its opposite. For Zhaodi Ma at this moment, Batman suddenly transformed into a side worth supporting—at least right now, he completely failed to understand the stupidity and malice of the crowd.

"Get a grip," he heard a voice say. "Those barking idiots are all expecting Batman to act as your nanny. If it were me, I'd memorize all your names and faces, and next time I'd let you burn to death in the fire."

He saw the astonished expressions of the crowd, saw his once-familiar neighbors glaring at him angrily, and saw several gang members cursing as they crowded closer.

Oh, so those words had come from his own mouth.

Never mind then.

Only at this moment did he feel his soul drift back into his shell, as if he were finally being himself again.

Throw away all civility, and just be yourself.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded. "I'm the one who called the ambulance, are you guys going to pay for it for me? Besides, I'm not even living here anymore, damn it! If you have the guts, come find me!"

"That gunfight started by the gang set the fire, and the Gotham Fire Department dragged their feet getting to the scene. Only fucking Batman saved people, and you want to find him to charge into the fire for you—why don't you chase the gang into the fire? Is it because you don't dare? Is it because you know the gang will actually kill people?"

He regretted it. He should have taken more of the bounty offered by the Roman instead of trying to act all cold and aloof, leaving the majority of it to Harvey Dent. Now it would be a bit difficult to move to the Burnley district or Otisburg district to hide from his enemies.

He wondered if it was still too late to go back and dig it up.

"I don't have time to look after your property and your lives at the same time." Batman interrupted Zhaodi Ma's angry rant and replied expressionlessly to the others' questions. His voice remained low and cold, without a trace of fluctuation: "Driver's licenses, bank cards, and passbooks can be reissued and reported lost. As for cash—there is nothing I can do."

"I know the Wayne Foundation provides compensation for property damage, so I suggest you figure out where to spend tomorrow. Placing your hopes in me is meaningless; under this kind of fire, very little can survive."

The sound of fire engines came from the street. They had finally arrived at the scene, and although there was nothing left in the fire for them to salvage, it could at least prevent the fire from spreading further.

They couldn't just do nothing, right? At least they were getting paid—with Wayne's money.

Almost no one in the East End had the ability to pay for fire insurance. A significant portion of the civilian insurance in Gotham was established by that well-known heir of the Wayne family, Gotham's playboy Bruce Wayne. People weren't quite sure whether this was part of Wayne Enterprises' image campaign or the benevolent whim of a rich man's foolish son, but he had indeed become one of the primary sponsors of public safety in Gotham.

The fire trucks stopped below the apartment building. Ignoring the noisy and angry crowd, Batman grabbed Zhaodi Ma and vanished into the fire-lit night.

...

"There was cash in your room, approximately thirty-five thousand dollars."

Batman stopped with Zhaodi Ma on the rooftop of a building. His voice still lacked any fluctuation, but Zhaodi Ma instantly became alert.

The atmosphere was wrong; this bird-man was going to interrogate me again!

"Your friend left Gotham and took a portion with him. Three thousand dollars were deposited into his account, and your salary and tips bought furniture, daily necessities, and a car, so you should only have about twenty-five thousand dollars left now."

"No, you fucking checked Drake's account too?"

"I tapped Harvey's phone. His phone calls have been normal, but there were two times when there was no signal, three minutes each time."

"???"

"You're different. The wiretaps and trackers on you have been out of signal for a long time."

"Are you out of your fucking mind!"