Chapter 175: The Batman with Exceptional Learning Ability

Ma Ma Zhaodi and Chuck began talking in the bar; one was a loser, the other was also a loser, so they had plenty in common.

"Holy cow—you really are a super expert!"

Ma Ma Zhaodi's eyes widened; he saw with his own eyes Chuck take a piece of paper and fold it by hand into an intricate, beautiful paper airplane. It could circle the entire bar and fly back to the bar counter in front of the two of them without anyone even needing to reach out and grab it.

"Holy crap, the farthest my paper airplane ever flew was just over twenty meters, and I even won first place in our class's paper airplane contest back then."

"Cool, right?" Chuck grinned: "This is why I love aerodynamics."

"I've been studying 'wind' since school. It's all about balance, isn't it? The atmospheric pressure of the entire world flows from high to low, trying to find equilibrium—and in this very process of seeking, they stir up all things."

Chuck's eyes grew hazy again from the alcohol; he murmured about the wind, but it seemed as though he were also murmuring about himself, who was not free.

"East, west."

A moment later, he drank the last bit of wine from his glass and patted Ma Ma Zhaodi's shoulder.

"Old buddy, I have to head home. I'm really glad today. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Chuck." Ma Ma Zhaodi casually picked up the paper airplane from the table: "I'm counting on this to show off to the kids."

As Chuck staggered toward the bar entrance, Ma Ma Zhaodi spoke again.

"Hey, Chuck."

"Hmm? What is it?"

"If you run into trouble, you can come find me at the Gotham Police Department, or come here."

"Ha, thanks."

He waved his hand and disappeared through the bar entrance.

Ma Ma Zhaodi turned back and finished all the fries in his hand.

Just stuffing a listening device or tracker on someone directly was, after all, rather impolite, he thought to himself. But fortunately, it was the information age; even without that method, he had other means to obtain the other party's information.

Just then, the news on the television was also nearing its end.

"Breaking news: Carmen Marie Falcone, a woman living alone in Metropolis, was found half an hour ago lying in a pool of blood in an alley. All her teeth were pulled out, and her throat was slit, but miraculously, she did not die. She has currently been sent to the hospital for emergency treatment. The reason this news appeared on a Gotham television station is that this elderly woman is suspected to be the adoptive mother of Mr. Carmine Falcone, a well-known entrepreneur in Gotham City."

Ma Ma Zhaodi, who was eating fried fish, was startled in his heart. He looked up at the TV screen, and his first thought was relief. The fact that the old woman was sent for emergency treatment meant she had not died on the spot; this was a blessing in misfortune.

His next thought was the words spoken by those gang thugs in the botanical garden after they woke up—a person had threatened Carmine to launch a pursuit against the Riddler, but the Riddler had found Poison Ivy and knocked them down in the botanical garden.

If one followed the description on the television, then the only person who could have done this was the Joker.

A battle between the Joker and the Riddler... he thought to himself. Add the Falcone family and Poison Ivy; what would Gotham City become?

He could not arrive at an answer to this question, but he vaguely felt that something major was about to happen soon.

He took out a tissue to wipe his hands, then followed a man out of the bar. The man had just secretly slipped a pill into another woman's cup and was now trying to take the woman away, probably intending to go to a hotel or a motel.

Following behind the two of them, Ma Ma Zhaodi took out his assassin blowpipe.

Tonight, the Perverted Bicycle Hero joins the hunt.

About half an hour later, Chuck finally returned to his own home.

He entered the door, turned on the light, and casually hung his coat on the coat rack by the entrance before walking toward the interior.

"I'm back."

No one answered; this was to be expected.

Two years ago, he had divorced his wife. Custody of the child was awarded to the wife. Chuck now lived a solitary life. Apart from paying a fixed sum of child support to his wife every period, he could only occasionally go see his son. Other than that, his life was empty of anyone.

Turning on the living room light, Chuck plopped down on the sofa. He deliberately avoided looking at the empty corners of the room and instead turned on the television with a backward motion of his hand. This way, there would always be human voices echoing in the room, which could let him escape the loneliness a little.

Actually, living alone was not necessarily a terrible thing. Before Chuck got married, he also lived alone, but back then he did not feel particularly lonely. He had a job, colleagues, hobbies, and goals.

When he was truly embedded in this world, he naturally had connections with other people; these connections eliminated his sense of loneliness.

But now...

Chuck casually pulled a cardboard box from under the sofa. Inside were bottles and bottles of alcohol. He opened one and then directly poured it into his own mouth.

A few months ago, he had been fired for assisting criminals. Although he had been forced, his boss did not want to hear his explanation.

Therefore, he now had no family, no job, no colleagues, no goals, and he had not even opened his books on aerodynamics again.

The blue suit on his body was merely the inertia of life over the past few years, pushing a walking corpse to continue living day by day.

Should I do something? This thought flashed through his mind for an instant and then vanished.

He casually took another swig of alcohol. Doing anything was useless, and right now he didn't want to do anything.

Just then, a hoarse and cold voice sounded in the room.

"Chuck Brown."

The voice was so terrifying that Chuck was almost frightened into dropping the wine bottle in his hand. He turned his head toward the direction the sound came from and then saw a black shadow standing in the corner of the room—a tall, strong black shadow with two pointed ears. The voice had no inflection; one could not tell if it was angry or joyful.

"You were once forced to build a Joker tank for the Joker. You must have a way to contact him—please find that way."

Although the wording was a request, the tone sounded more like an order.

"Uh, I... I was just forced. I really don't want to have any further dealings with him."

"Chuck Brown, you saw the news, right?"

Hearing this, Chuck instinctively looked at the television. Of course he had seen it; Carmen Marie Falcone, the wretched state of this old woman was still being broadcast on the screen.

"He attacked a family of five this morning, Chuck. The children in that family are about the same age as your child. And if the Joker cannot be found, he will continue to kill people: the Riddler, ordinary people, the elderly, children... Are you really indifferent to this?"

Hearing Batman's words, Chuck fell silent again. He was very afraid of the Joker, but the cases Batman mentioned indeed made him think of his own son. And when he raised his head, he could see the wretched state of that old woman on the television.

"Just find him; you don't need to fight, Chuck."

After a long silence, Chuck placed the wine bottle on the table.

"I'll help you," he replied, "but I have one request."

"You must protect my son's safety."

(End of this chapter)