Chapter 179: The Old Layer Cake Riddler

Late at night, outside a bar in Gotham's East End.

Chuck Brown stepped out of the bar, humming a tune, looking quite sober—after his drunken slip of the tongue with Ma Ma Zhaodi, he had dared not drink too much lately.

"Oh, I said let's fly, dear~"

The moment he stepped through the doorway, Chuck's humming paused for a few seconds because his peripheral vision caught the large man leaning by the window, smoking—an orange shirt, jeans.

It was the burly man who had driven Ma Ma Zhaodi away; when he entered the bar, the man had been at the entrance, so why was he still here now?

Chuck immediately felt an ominous premonition—ever since agreeing to cooperate with Batman's plan, he had been like this, becoming suspicious over the slightest anomaly.

At that moment, the burly man seemed to notice Chuck's gaze; he immediately fixed him with a fierce stare, as if to say: "What are you looking at? Want to fight?"

Chuck quickly turned his head away, while simultaneously sighing with relief inside—this guy's reaction was normal; he had really been too suspicious lately.

"Sigh, scaring myself."

He walked toward a nearby alley and started humming a little tune again.

"Kid, where are you going?"

"Flying to the sky, dear~"

Just then, the burly man behind him suddenly moved; his feet were like a lump of mud, the part touching the ground becoming extremely soft, which made him walk silently.

He quickly reached behind Chuck, then his entire body began to expand and deform, his clothes deforming and softening along with him, then flowing, turning into a color and texture like soft mud.

More accurately, his entire body, along with his clothes, was made of mud itself. Just looking at that monster-like mud face was enough to know he was not human to begin with.

That large mass of soft mud suddenly opened wide, completely wrapping Chuck up; he didn't even have time to cry for help, and was "swallowed" into the mud-faced monster's body like a tiny insect. Moments later, the monster's body quickly restored itself, turning back into the burly man of two-man size.

Since the body was already stretched large to begin with, even with Chuck wrapped inside, no one could see the slightest problem.

Just like that, unnoticed, the burly man simply strode away from the vicinity of the bar.

"Hmm, nothing strange at all."

Ma Ma Zhaodi stood on the rooftop of a building in the East End, witnessing with his enhanced vision the scene of Chuck being "swallowed" in the alley outside the bar.

While in the bar, he had sensed something off about that burly man; he had faked the rise and fall of breathing, faked the angry expression of a normal person, and even the texture of his skin was identical to a normal human's; his disguise was highly deceptive.

But he lacked the sweat smell normal people should have, there was no sound of a heartbeat inside his body, and he showed a certain wariness toward the drink in his hand and all the alcohol in the bar; from the moment he entered the bar until he left, he had been trying his best to stay away from all "liquids" in the bar.

So Ma Ma Zhaodi made a small probe.

What should a burly man's reaction be to being extorted? Calm thinking? No, this was Gotham, and he looked like just an ordinary person easy to bully; he only needed to throw a direct punch at him—as long as no gun was fired, even if he knocked him down, the bar owner would only kick him out.

But he still showed wariness toward the orange juice in his hand, so he didn't throw a direct punch, and even really gave him one hundred dollars.

This indicated two things: first, the other party truly did not want to get wet; second, the other party really wanted to get him out of there.

What in the bar was worth him staying despite the risk of getting wet? Why was he unwilling to let him stay?

Ma Ma Zhaodi immediately thought of "Chuck."

So, what did the other party have in mind for Chuck?

Ma Ma Zhaodi had a guess but couldn't be sure, so before leaving the restaurant, he used "I have not killed anyone" on that burly man once.

If he just wanted to attack Chuck, he would fail; but if he wanted to kidnap, Ma Ma Zhaodi would follow—should Chuck encounter any danger, he could rescue him.

After the burly man snatched Chuck, he walked straight to a car parked by the roadside—it was obvious he had come prepared, not acting on a sudden whim.

The car sped along, making several turns and twists; it was clear this was a pre-designed route, capable of detecting any pursuers behind and shaking them off.

Finally, the car stopped beside an abandoned theater; the burly man got out of the car, not stopping for a single step, and walked straight into the theater.

He passed through the theater's entrance corridor, stepped over the royal blue carpet bearing a green question mark icon, and walked all the way along the narrow steps to the front of the stage. The scenery inside the theater was now completely renewed; the crimson curtains were spotless, the stage unused for years had been swept clean, the bright lights indicated the power system was intact, and the surveillance cameras were flashing red; there was not a single sign of "abandonment" here.

And in front of the stage, the Riddler, wearing a green suit and a green top hat, leaned casually against the stage; he asked the burly man offhandedly, "That cop didn't notice you?"

"No, he left directly."

"Excellent, I've had enough of that interfering fool."

When mentioning Ma Ma Zhaodi, the Riddler ground his teeth.

"Just transferred to Gotham, no father, no mother, no friends, no family, no girlfriend, a damn orphan; sooner or later, I'll see if he really has no weakness."

The burly man thought for a moment and asked, "Why not just take him out?"

"No need to rush; he also gets used to drinking at that bar, so when the plan starts, just shoot him."

As he spoke, not knowing exactly what idea had occurred to him, a cold smile appeared on his face; then he leaned his body back against the stage again, his expression becoming relaxed and his posture leisurely.

"Also, these are his things."

The burly man threw out a bag; inside were Chuck's personal items: wallet, phone, driver's license, cash, two candies, and two lighters.

"Two lighters?" The man frowned slightly: "Interesting—take all these things away, find someone to carry them around the streets for a few rounds; I don't want to be disturbed, tracked, or eavesdropped on during our conversation."

"Wait a moment, keep the lighter for me."

Poison Ivy, standing nearby, suddenly reached out and picked up that cheap plastic lighter: "There's a seed inside."

"You can take the lighter apart and extract it," the man waved his hand: "I'm not interested in such trivial matters; just ensure it's safe."

Sure enough, vines one by one took that lighter completely apart—and it was indeed just an ordinary lighter, with no other mechanical devices inside.

The Riddler was very satisfied with this.

"Alright," he clapped his hands: "Since the preparations are done, it's time to release our Mr. Chuck."

But Poison Ivy, standing nearby, played with that tiny seed, lost in thought.

(End of this chapter)