Chapter 109: Might as Well Let Batman Come

"What? Mr. Bruce is going on a long trip?"

Upon Alfred's news, Ma Ma Zhaodi's face showed joy—no, it showed regret.

"Sigh, not getting to see Mr. Bruce is truly a bit regrettable, but it doesn't matter; in Gotham City, we will surely meet again sooner or later. Friendship between gentlemen need not be rushed—by the way, by the way, Mr. Alfred, how is this little cookie made?"

He lifted his tea, took a bite of the cookie, and after Batman told him he had urgent matters to attend to recently, he started frequently running over to Wayne Manor to mooch meals—Alfred's cooking was absolutely master-level; the pastries he made were truly delicious, and the tea was good too; he planned to thoroughly steal his techniques.

Anyway, he didn't eat for free; he would bring homemade snacks over. The ingredients from the System and his own skills were both good, and Alfred wasn't averse to this kind of drop-in visit—Wayne Manor had plenty of sycophantic passersby seeking their own gains, but rarely did it have neighbors who were just greedy and gossipy.

Although he couldn't quite be called a neighbor, driving over still took Ma Ma Zhaodi some time.

In any case, Alfred had quite a liking for this young man who seemed not to want to climb into the upper class; in fact, all the "upper-class" elements of his visits clashed with the man himself. If not for matters of etiquette, he might have just shown up in casual clothes—but for the inclusive and broad-minded Alfred, sincerity and goodwill themselves could surpass most etiquette.

In the days without Batman, even Gotham's criminals were slightly happier for a few days—but not particularly happy, because during these days, many strange things had appeared in the city.

"Charlie, hey, Charlie!"

A furtive voice sounded in the room; figures wearing masks huddled together, whispering, seemingly afraid of being heard by neighbors.

"What's wrong? Walter?"

"Did you finish searching everything?"

"Finished searching. What about you?"

"Same."

After the two finished their brief exchange, they both looked at the living room floor at the same time; there, a man and a woman were tightly bound hand, foot, and body. At this moment, their bodies were spasming unnaturally from fear, tears and snot blurring their faces. With the two bandits pointing guns at their heads, the couple dared not struggle even a bit.

"Then—what about these two?"

"Just leave them alone, isn't that enough?"

"Idiot! Then why did you call my name? Is this your first day doing this!"

"Damn it! You also called my name!"

Hearing this, the man and woman's eyes immediately filled with despair; they frantically shook their heads at the two thugs, desperately trying to say one or two words of begging, but their mouths were sealed tightly with tape, so they could only emit struggling whimpers from their throats.

"What to do? Kill them?"

"Don't use the gun, too much noise; I'll go find a knife in their kitchen."

One thug got up and walked toward the kitchen; the other thug sized up the two people struggling desperately on the ground and suddenly changed his mind.

"Charlie, bring a wet Mao Jin."

"What for?"

"Wash this woman's face; otherwise, I'm not in the mood."

Seeing Walter pull a small umbrella from his pocket and prepare to take off his pants, Charlie immediately panicked; he kicked high, striking Walter on the back: "Damn it, we don't have much time left, and you're still thinking of making trouble!"

"Damn it! Why did you hit me! Are you crazy!"

"You're the crazy one! Wipe their necks and get moving quickly! Don't leave any more evidence!"

The two thugs argued about how to deal with the two living humans, as if arguing over how to deal with two live chickens on a cutting board.

At this moment, the windowsill suddenly made a dull thud; the two turned their heads to see a hawk-eagle dive onto the window, raising its sturdy beak and pecking hard.

"Crash!"

In the instant the window glass shattered, a black figure swung past the window; two blow darts precisely struck the two thugs, making them immediately faint and fall to the ground, unconscious.

Clang, the kitchen knife in Charlie's hand dropped to the floor; a few meters away, the two tightly bound people immediately showed joy in their eyes and began wriggling toward the kitchen knife; they were only bound at the wrists, but their fingers could still move; as long as they got the knife, they could escape.

The figure outside the window rolled into the room, skillfully stripped the two thugs' clothes and tied them into knots, then lifted them and used the tied knots to hang them on the windowsill; four bare buttocks swung in the night wind like that.

"Finished this area; let's go to the next place."

The two victims still bound inside stared dumbfounded as the black-robed figure flipped out the window, their hearts surging like a storm.

Ma Ma Zhaodi, wearing a black robe, climbed down the building's exterior wall with agility, reaching the ground in a dozen seconds; he tilted his ear to listen to the news brought by birds flying in the sky, then quickly pulled out that wheelchair.

At this moment, all the lights on the wheelchair had gone out; the special dark coating covering it made it almost blend into the night of Gotham. This was an upgrade and overhaul Ma Ma Zhaodi spent five thousand dollars on, namely the wheelchair's high-speed night mode.

In this mode, the wheelchair's sound and light reflection were greatly reduced, its speed limit was boosted to 200 km/h, making it the most suitable mode for night travel; of course, the downside was that if the driver's skills weren't strong enough, it would be easily knocked over by other cars that couldn't see the situation clearly—for this, Ma Ma Zhaodi specifically spent ten thousand dollars to upgrade his wheelchair driving proficiency to master level.

Why obsessed with the wheelchair? Because its size could pass through most narrow terrains in Gotham, while its flexibility and speed surpassed ordinary cars; the overhaul costs were also used to change its rainproof and wind-breaking shell into bulletproof material; it could now even be used as cover in gunfights.

Since obtaining the Voice of Nature, Ma Ma Zhaodi could receive even more information; all the birds and beasts, flowers and trees in Gotham City were chattering endlessly to him. This information wouldn't cause him to crash, but it truly made him uncomfortable, because once he heard news about crime, it meant he had to go deal with it again.

In the past, he could still comfort himself, saying Batman was in Gotham City and he didn't need to add chaos to his vigilante actions, but now, Batman had temporarily left.

This meant Ma Ma Zhaodi became one of the few people in Gotham City who had both the willingness and the means to stop heinous crimes.

Ma Ma Zhaodi had no way around this; he very much wanted to pretend he hadn't heard, but he truly didn't like seeing people get hurt, so there were vigilante activities targeting heinous crimes like tonight.

"This thief stealing things—ignore it, not enough time, crime isn't serious."

"This naked runner—what nonsense, made me laugh once, didn't even need me to act."

"This drug deal—deal with it in five minutes, hehe, tomorrow they won't have the face to mix in the underworld."

Under the guidance of nature across the entire city, the pitch-black wheelchair wandered through the streets and alleys of Gotham like a ghost.

Within the few days Batman disappeared, Gotham City would likely gain another strange urban legend.

(End of this chapter)