Chapter 169: After the Electric Wheelchair, Is It a Bicycle? Hajime

The Riddler's question received no response, for these people had clearly not come to talk.

They were all dressed in black suits, ties, and trousers with white shirts, each holding an automatic rifle or a pistol; the moment they stopped, their dark gun muzzles pointed straight at the Riddler. Any sharp-eyed observer could immediately tell these guys were typical gang enforcers, and they meant trouble.

A red-haired man, dual pistols in hand, even greeted them quite politely: "Young Lady, please take a few steps to the left, then close your eyes and cover your ears."

Poison Ivy turned her head to size up the group, her green eyes flickering slightly; it seemed Gotham City truly did not know them. While it was understandable that ordinary lower-class citizens didn't recognize super-villains, even the gangs being this ignorant was something she hadn't expected.

Most importantly, they were inside the Botanical Gardens, and this group's style of shouting threats and killing on arrival greatly displeased her; furthermore, with their long guns and short pistols firing wildly here, she had no idea how many plants would get destroyed.

Seeing Poison Ivy make no move, the man reminded her again: "Young Lady, I have no time to offer further explanations here."

Poison Ivy ignored him; the mere thought that both the Joker and the gangs cared nothing for these matters began to make her angry.

"A burning world?" she asked casually, her gaze fixed on those gangs shouting threats of violence.

"Undoubtedly—besides, I am not someone who stops seeking answers. My conclusion is that the Joker is exactly the kind of person he appears to be now, and his modus operandi is precisely as it stands."

Watching the two converse as if no one else were present, a fat bald man beside the red-haired gangster finally couldn't hold back: "Either you walk away now, or you never walk away again—well, forget it, suit yourself—you asked for it."

"Alright, friend," another gangster shrugged: "We've tried our best to persuade you; let's just get the job done quickly."

Hearing this, a disdainful smile appeared on Poison Ivy's face; she waved her hand, and vines coiled out from the woods in all directions.

The Botanical Gardens were Poison Ivy's home turf.

Meanwhile, Ma Ma Zhaodi was riding his beloved bicycle along the streets of Gotham.

There was no help for it; the electric wheelchair was far too conspicuous, so he dared not drive it; he would only bring that thing out if a future situation required the appearance of the Perverted Wheelchair Hero.

As for the bicycle before him, he had bought it from a second-hand market spot the landlord told him about; the reason he didn't buy a motorcycle or a car was mainly because parking spaces were too troublesome.

This Gotham City lacked renowned, hassle-free vehicles like the Death Car; buying a relatively cheap bicycle meant he could carry it back to his room when returning home, and if he needed to travel at super-high speeds, he could simply fold it up and stuff it into a taxi's trunk, emphasizing convenience, speed, and strong mobility.

Moreover, with his physical attributes plus ten thousand dollars worth of Master-level Bicycle Driving Proficiency, he could fully transform this bicycle, which had cost five hundred dollars in Asset Points for extensive modification, into the coolest rider on the road.

"Hey, hey, John, did you see that thing?"

"Hm? What?"

John, driving the Chevrolet, was tugged by his friend in the passenger seat; he glanced over somewhat puzzledly at his friend: "Jimmy, I'm driving; you don't want us to get smashed into meat patties by other cars on the road, do you?"

"No, John, look at that person by the roadside!"

It wasn't until Jimmy shouted a second time that John subconsciously looked out the right window: "There's nothing there, what are you shouti—hm?"

Beside them, a man was leisurely riding a bicycle as if on a simple, relaxed ride; he wasn't sweating, nor was he panting, suggesting this cycling clearly provided no exercise effect.

Seeing John and Jimmy looking over, he even friendly waved to the two, then rode past the right window and continued forward, everything appearing so natural.

However, a dumbfounded John looked down and confirmed his speed; yes, it was 70 km/h.

He repeatedly looked down and then up, his gaze shifting back and forth between the speedometer and the person who had overtaken them, completely unable to believe the scene unfolding before his eyes.

"How f-fast?"

"Does his bicycle have a thruster?"

With no answer to their questions, the two could only watch that impossibly fast bicycle disappear down the road, growing ever more distant.

"Jimmy, I think I just had a hallucination."

"John, I think I had a hallucination too."

How fast can a traditional cycling race bicycle go?

Eighty kilometers per hour.

In the 2009 Tour de France, the world's top cyclist, British athlete Mark Cavendish, rode the Scyther 1 bicycle designed by Dutch engineer Tom Mills, using it to reach a speed of 83 km/h on flat ground.

Sprinting downhill sections could reach over 100 km/h, making them the heroes of bicycle riding.

After him, countless subsequent bicycles broke records: some using cars to break the wind, some towed by motorcycles, some fitted with motors to create streamlined cockpits; but for Ma Ma Zhaodi, a speed of eighty was already sufficient.

Of course, the current speed was neither the limit of this extensively modified bicycle nor his own limit, but there was no need to accelerate just yet.

Ma Ma Zhaodi was mentally calculating where to find Kite Man next when he suddenly frowned; through his Intermediate Natural Language Proficiency, he sensed something strange happening.

This was a vague sensation that had begun ever since he arrived in Gotham; it seemed this world differed somewhat from his original Gotham. In this Gotham City, the Natural Language Proficiency ability seemed to connect him more deeply with the entire natural world, allowing him to dimly perceive certain special information from afar.

Just now, some unnatural fluctuations beyond normal logic seemed to have occurred in a corner of Gotham City; Ma Ma Zhaodi could vaguely feel that it appeared to be movements related to "Poison Ivy" and "poison vines."

"The Green of All Things, the Power of Nature," Ma Ma Zhaodi murmured to himself; he had a basic understanding of the logical settings regarding "elements" in DC comics, where concepts like "plants," "animals," and "metals" in this world were not merely scientific classifications but also represented different attributes of supernatural power.

He was certain that Natural Language Proficiency had connected him to several types of supernatural powers, like a vast interconnected network that had drawn him in and shared information about others within the net with him.

"That place seems to have many plants; perhaps it's the Botanical Gardens?"

Just then, the system's prompt sound rang out again.

【Ding】

【You have a new odd job available; please check it】

(End of Chapter)