Chapter 165: Not a Hero

"You went in?"

"Sheriff Gordon, the door wasn't locked."

Ma Ma Zhaodi looked at the five bodies lying in a pool of blood in the bedroom, took fruit candy out of his pocket, and felt infinitely relieved that he had given the Clown an extra "I didn't kill anyone" yesterday.

"You need to hurry over; the Clown fired five shots here."

About five minutes later, police cars and ambulances arrived at the scene and took the entire family of five, who still retained vital signs for the moment, to the hospital.

"I don't know if they will suffer psychological trauma from today's events, whether from being shot near death by a madman breaking into their home, or from a family of five having to pay the exorbitant medical bills together." Sheriff Gordon sighed: "The Riddler and the Clown seem to be killing without killing lately; I occasionally wonder if they have some sort of partnership with Gotham's major hospitals."

"When you run into super-criminals like the Clown or the Riddler who kill without blinking, it's good enough just to survive." Ma Ma Zhaodi shook his head: "At least the Templeton family can reunite—by the way, how is that driver who rammed the Clown into the fountain last night?"

"He almost died, but it didn't seem to be because of that gunshot wound; rather, it was internal bleeding caused by the car crash—fortunately, you called the ambulance in time."

It wasn't because he called the ambulance in time; Ma Ma Zhaodi sighed, it was because he had stuffed a lollipop into the man's mouth when he went upstairs yesterday, otherwise the man would truly be gone.

It was the same back at the theater; the Clown's explosion wasn't fatal, but the collapse of the theater stage caused many people to suffer potentially fatal injuries, so he had also performed first aid on each of them back then.

"Do I need to give a statement?"

"Just give a quick statement, and then you can leave—sigh, I really don't know if you're lucky or unlucky; two Clowns, two Riddlers, four cases, and you ran into all of them; it's truly a blessing from heaven that you're still alive."

Ma Ma Zhaodi smiled awkwardly; when the Clown blew up the theater, he had refreshed and gone in; when the Riddler escaped prison, Sheriff Gordon had transferred him in; when those two met in the building at night, he had rushed over after solving the puzzle with the system; only meeting the taxi driver in the morning was an accident, so actually, the luck factor was probably quite low, right?

After finishing the statement, Ma Ma Zhaodi walked out of the Gotham Police Department; at this time it was still early, so he first went to the Diamond District, found a jewelry store, exchanged several gold bars for one hundred thousand dollars, and then took the money to the Gotham Bank to deposit it.

Anyway, the cash earned in Gotham City in his own universe was barely used; at this moment, Ma Ma Zhaodi couldn't be called a rich person, but securing his livelihood for the time being was no problem.

After finishing these matters, he went to Gotham Hospital again.

When he walked into the lobby, it was no longer as chaotic as when he came last time; doctors and nurses appeared organized, and no one was shouting loudly about news of doctors and patients fighting. Obviously, the batches of patients sent to the Gotham Police Department yesterday had basically stabilized; many were probably out of danger, sent to the ICU, or other wards for observation.

Ma Ma Zhaodi wasn't here to register, so he directly ignored the people around him and found a nurse in the lobby.

"Hello, I want to see the batch of patients injured at the Unicorn Comedy Theater who were sent here yesterday."

"Ah? You are..."

Ma Ma Zhaodi took out his police badge, waved it at her, and then put it away.

"I am a police officer from the Gotham Police Department, Ma Ma Zhaodi. During the explosion yesterday, I was at the Unicorn Comedy Theater. I was also the one who dragged them out of the ruins and sent them to the hospital with them, but I wasn't injured—you might have some impression of me?"

The nurse blinked, and finally remembered an officer that colleagues had been discussing during shift change; he, by his own strength, had dragged all thirty-three people buried in the ruins after the theater stage explosion out, saving considerable time for the rescue; although six of them were confirmed dead on the spot, the remaining twenty-seven all survived.

The television stations called it "twenty-seven consecutive miracles," but in fact, everyone in the hospital believed that the officer who dragged everyone out was the miracle. Almost all doctors and nurses believed he must be a devout believer, perhaps Christian, or Catholic, or some other sect.

Almost everyone imagined him as a figure like Desmond Doss in Hacksaw Ridge, dragging buried wounded one by one out of the theater ruins in extreme danger where secondary collapse might occur.

"God, let me save one more, let me save one more."

Watching the nurse's eyes shift from confusion to surprise, then to emotion, and even a bit of admiration, Ma Ma Zhaodi subconsciously felt something was wrong.

What was she admiring?

"You are the hero who risked his life to save everyone from the ruins—"

"Alright, alright, that's enough, no need to say more, I know what you want to say." Ma Ma Zhaodi immediately cut her off; being praised as such a self-sacrificing hero for the first time in his life, his face felt a bit unbearable: "Ahem, in any case, let's keep it down; I mainly want to see the people admitted yesterday and today."

"No problem, I'll take you—"

"No, no, no, that's too much of a disturbance to your work; just tell me the place."

"No, I still insist on taking you."

Ma Ma Zhaodi's mouth twitched; this was the first time in his life he had encountered such trouble; when he used to be the perverted wheelchair hero, he never had this kind of worry.

So, he lowered his voice and said mysteriously to the nurse: "Alright, since it has come to this, I have to tell you, the reason I came to the hospital this time is because the police department has a secret operation; I can't tell you the details, but I can tell you that this matter is very important and needs to be kept confidential; I can't let more people know."

Hearing this, the nurse's face immediately showed a look of understanding: "Oh, oh, Mr., then I won't follow; I'll just tell you where they all are."

"Ahem, thank you, thank you."

Following the location she provided, Ma Ma Zhaodi turned and entered the elevator, but until the moment the elevator doors closed, he was pondering a question.

Since the rumor of a "police hero" had already spread throughout the hospital interior, then, it would likely spread further.

Thinking of this, Ma Ma Zhaodi felt his face was a bit unbearable; for him, since he possessed enhanced physical attributes and the Horn of Plenty, saving people was originally a trivial effort.

Because of his strength, offering a little help to others was met with gratitude—he didn't really like this feeling; it seemed like some kind of condescending, high-and-mighty charity from a superior looking down on the masses. But actually, he considered himself a member of the masses.

In fact, until now, he didn't think he counted as a hero.

Because he hadn't yet made a "sacrifice" for others.

Ding—

While he was thinking, the elevator had arrived.

(End of this chapter)