N-A-A Chapter 62 Power Comes From You
Chapter 62 Power Comes From You
Chapter 62 Power Comes From You
Gordon didn't respond to Jerome. After expressionlessly locking him in the intensive care unit, his gaze suddenly drifted to the storage room not far away—
The lights in the corridor above flickered, the pale white light suddenly spreading out and then instantly receding.
In the instant the light spread, he saw the broken iron lock lying on the ground and the small pieces of concrete scattered in the corner—
His detective instincts kicked in, and he immediately drew the black Smith & Wesson pistol from his waistband, simultaneously flicking the safety with his thumb, instantly putting himself into a state of alert and readiness.
This is Gotham.
Any oversight could be fatal.
However, all of these actions were observed by someone.
"Good evening, Mr. Jim Gordon."
Lucas's figure was hidden in the shadows at the end, revealing only half of his hazy outline.
After emerging from the secret room, he did not choose to leave, but instead waited for the future police chief of Gotham to discover him.
Unfortunately, the other party's eyesight was clearly not very good.
The sudden sound made Gordon stiffen, and he then noticed a tall figure standing in the shadows cast at the end of the corridor.
The moment that deep voice appeared, Gordon felt an invisible pressure.
This feeling was like facing an unknown ferocious beast, making him feel extremely threatened: "No matter who you are, I'll count to three. If you don't want to get shot, put your hands behind your head and lean against the wall."
Gordon didn't investigate why the other person knew his name. In Gotham, finding out someone's name is easy.
He didn't ask about the other person's identity either; he could ask them carefully after he subdued them.
What truly alarmed him was why the other party had appeared there.
He didn't think a mental hospital would be targeted by money-grubbing gangsters; it was utterly worthless to them. It was just a bunch of psychopaths, lunatics.
"You know, Mr. Gordon, I still admire you. After all, not everyone has the courage to hold onto that ridiculous sense of justice no matter what kind of quagmire they're in. Although it's pathetic, that's precisely why I'm willing to talk to you."
Lucas ignored Gordon's threat. To him, a gun was the most feeble and powerless language.
Gordon frowned, his face grim, and repeated, "I'll say it one last time: put your hands behind your head and kneel facing the wall."
Otherwise, I will treat you as a deadly threat to police officers.
No, you won't.
Gordon was silent for two seconds. The other person's confident tone made him feel like he had been seen through.
Just as he was about to speak, a burly man with broad shoulders and a thick waist suddenly rushed out from a nearby room.
The other person was nearly two meters tall and looked like a crazed bull, charging at Lucas like a madman, shouting incoherent nonsense like "Too noisy, shut up, I'll tear you apart."
Gordon immediately recognized the other person.
Robert Jones, nicknamed Frog God.
He is a patient with severe violent tendencies and firmly believes that a giant frog lives inside his stomach.
He once killed several members of a family, including two infants, while in a state of illness.
He was imprisoned here six months ago. He often causes disturbances and is a very difficult person to deal with; even tranquilizers are ineffective.
Gordon instinctively went to stop him, but was knocked to the ground by the other party's powerful force.
"If you don't want to die, you'd better get out of there," he shouted, speaking from the bottom of his heart.
But the figure in the shadows did not move aside, and then Gordon heard a loud bang.
The next moment, his pupils contracted.
Robert, who weighs over 300 pounds, was sent flying backward like a discarded sack that had been hit by a heavy hammer, and crashed heavily into the wall of the corridor.
It fell silent without even letting out a wail.
"This is Gotham. Madness often only takes a gentle push."
A deep voice rang out: "Daylight conceals the decay, night unleashes the savage. If upholding justice requires first becoming part of evil, Mr. Gordon, what would you choose?"
Lucas asked with great interest.
As is well known, there are three versions of Gotham.
The 1.0 gangster version is also the most rule-abiding version.
Version 2.0, the Madman, is a time of chaos in the city, with freaks emerging one after another, and reason becoming a joke in Gotham.
Version 3.0 features various cyborg versions, rampant human experimentation, and the complete collapse of the old order.
According to incomplete statistics, by then, the waters of Gotham alone will contain a variety of substances that would astound even Aquaman, including remnants of the Mudman, Joker's poison gas, Scarecrow's fear gas, Bane's venom, and so on.
So much so that Arthur Curry directly refused to acknowledge that Gotham's water was water.
You should know that in his mind, cola and soda are both considered water.
By then, the financial channels he had built to support his Kryptonite research would certainly be affected.
This is clearly not in Lucas's interest.
After all, he had absolutely no interest in showing his face in public like his younger brother, wearing only his underwear.
Perhaps teaming up the penguin with this relentless, future-dominant police chief could be effective.
However, the expression on Gordon's face showed that he had obviously never thought about this question.
Lucas lost the desire to talk.
Pure idealists who have never seen Gotham's truly insane are not worth trading.
After all, neither this police hero, nor the Knight of Light, nor the Dark Knight could save Gotham.
next moment.
The corridor lights, which had been flickering, suddenly went black.
Darkness lasted only a second.
The lights that had been turned off came back on, and the doorway to the storage room was now empty.
A look of surprise flashed across Gordon's face. He paused for a few seconds, then quickly walked up to Robert and found that the other man was almost dead.
This made him somewhat angry.
Although he believed Robert deserved to die, the man was mentally ill. According to procedure, he should be permanently imprisoned here to repent, not become a cold, lifeless corpse.
"Legal procedures are the sole measure of justice. Relying on legal trials and court rulings is the right way to punish evil."
If justice becomes part of evil, if it becomes vigilante justice, then what kind of justice is it? What's the point of having police then?
Gordon angrily pounded the wall and shouted into the air, "Listen, whoever you are, I'm going to catch you!"
The next day.
At the horizon, a crimson-gold sun burst forth like molten divine blood, instantly igniting the entire sea of clouds.
A manor halfway up the mountain.
Overnight, the place was cleaned spotless.
The smell of blood was mostly masked by the cleaning agent, and the furniture was polished to a shine. There was no trace of the crime on the surface, except for faint red marks seeping from the cracks in the floor and the crevices in the corners of the walls.
"Mr. Oswald, you have proven your ability to me."
Lucas, dressed in a well-tailored suit, slowly appeared here.
He wore a demon mask made of shadow particles, its eerie green like a ghostly fire, its skeleton black, and its crimson lines resembling blood.
As Lucas looked at the rows of remaining gang members standing behind the Penguin, he didn't hesitate to express his approval.
Although the Penguin is a classic double agent, ambitious and treacherous, his opponent is equally adept at navigating Gotham City.
:
A wise person who knows the rules of survival.
"It is my greatest honor to receive your recognition."
Oswald's face immediately flushed with excitement.
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