Chapter 28: When Away From Home, Reputation Is Carved Out by Killing

"Magic and miracles are not free."

—by the legendary survivor John Constantine

My apologies, I got it wrong; that quote is by Lu Xun.

If the previous consecration and spirit-exorcism had been a spell rather than an item, Ma Ma Zhaodi would not have dared to use it directly, because in this world, the power of magic essentially belongs to someone; every type of power has its own source.

Learning magic is not about acquiring power, but about acquiring the method to borrow power from the source; and unfortunately, the demons or high-level existences that master each source are not philanthropists; they often demand a price from those who use magic, which can be a day of good luck, or a person's fate and soul.

The power contained in this one-time consecrated item belongs to the lineage of that One in Heaven, and happens to be used for demon exorcism. In this situation of professional alignment, Ma Ma Zhaodi only used the item and needed to pay no price.

If not for this, he would not risk contacting items related to magic; this is not because he fears he might be unable to resist abusing magic and thus attracting creditors, but because he fears forming connections with certain people. After all, teammates can also be sacrificed by mages, and some mages have indeed grown accustomed to doing so.

Ma Ma Zhaodi thought aimlessly about these random things; he drove the car, bought some ingredients along the way, and drove all the way back home.

"Crack!"

He drove the car to the empty roadside space outside the small building where Drake lived, got out, and locked the door. Just now, he had spent one dollar of asset points on the system map to find a parking spot; the result showed that every spot nearby could be a parking space. Although this was strange, the system had not yet screwed him over.

"God is real; you really are okay."

Drake got out of a taxi on the side with a look of curiosity: "This car doesn't look nearly as ominous as the boss said."

"Damn it, two damn fools," the taxi driver beside them muttered, then quickly started the car and fled the scene as if escaping.

He had followed this car all the way as Drake requested; only now did he see the details of the vehicle body. Although it had no license plate yet and the paint had been completely repainted gray, he still recognized this death car, famous on Gotham's accident charts.

Damn it, how dare another sucker drive this car on the road? Are they really not afraid of death?

Seeing the driver leave so quickly, Ma Ma Zhaodi turned his head and asked Drake: "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know; maybe because the slip for Gotham Hospital is gone, so he's in a rush to get the next fare," Drake shook his head: "Whatever."

"Thanks a lot."

"Yesterday, the Gotham Police Department arrested a large number of gang members again. According to information revealed by Commissioner Gordon, this arrest operation received help from the masked vigilante in Gotham City—Batman."

"As of now, Batman has helped the Gotham Police Department arrest dozens, even hundreds of Gotham gang members. This leaves me very puzzled: must the Gotham Police Department rely on a masked outlaw to perform its normal functions? Are we only able to rely on a masked man who uses violence and violates the law to help us enforce the law?"

"Although Sheriff Gordon has repeatedly stated Batman's harmlessness, so far, not a single arm, leg bone, or rib of those captured gangsters and villains has been broken by their own falls; no one has ever entered the police station intact under the hands of this violent vigilante."

"Gotham's District Attorney, Mr. Harvey Dent, also has an ambiguous attitude toward Batman. Has Gotham's judicial justice been completely influenced, or even controlled, by an illegal vigilante who hides his head and tail? We all do not know."

Lady Camilla sat by the small table, watching the television with great interest.

"We all know this newspaper company is owned by the Falcone gang," Drake sneered disdainfully as he entered the door.

"Listening to them speak is like listening to rats condemn rat poison; they talk about fairness, justice, respect for life, and independence and equality, but in reality, they are just dogs wanting to be fucked by profit. How many conscientious officers and prosecutors has Gotham produced in the past ten years? They have all been chased and bitten by them."

"I'll assume you're still talking about the newspaper company," Ma Ma Zhaodi hung his coat by the door: "So you support Batman?"

"Even the most correct words turn sour in their mouths; anyway, I don't support this group," Drake shook his head: "But my opinion doesn't matter; I'm not from Gotham, nor will I stay here long."

"That's true. Once you leave, I'll renew the lease on this house."

"Why renew the lease? With your fifty thousand dollars plus your job, you could buy a smaller house on installment in parts of the Odis Fort district."

"Stop, absolutely not. As long as the day comes when I can work in another city, I will definitely leave first; buying a house in Gotham is purely a losing business; the suffering endured living here for one year is more than ten years combined in other cities."

Drake paused, realizing he could not refute this at all.

Everyone knew clearly that Gotham's daily life could not be described as vibrant with all things competing to grow; at the very least, it could be called a place shrouded in smoke and filled with gunfire. All buildings here could be destroyed at any moment by a bomb, a missile, or a fire. Therefore, people doing real estate in Gotham are basically not simple figures, and people buying houses in Gotham are basically those who cannot leave.

Lady Camilla spoke up at this moment: "Ma Ma Zhaodi, where did you get the cross necklace around your neck?"

"Oh, we went to buy a car today and got it from inside; I felt I liked it, so I put it on."

"So beautiful," Camilla unconsciously stared at the gleaming necklace. As a Christian who had long suffered from illness and hardship, she could absolutely be called devout; therefore, looking at the necklace Ma Ma Zhaodi wore, she felt an inexplicable warmth.

Seeing the situation was unfavorable, Ma Ma Zhaodi immediately diverted the blame: "Drake, why don't you get Lady Camilla a cross necklace?"

"Don't talk nonsense; the church clearly issued a blessed cross necklace," Drake muttered: "She just likes shiny, pretty ornaments."

Camilla raised an eyebrow: "Do you have an objection?"

"No," Drake immediately showed his loyalty: "I'll go buy one for you this afternoon."

"Here's the key," Ma Ma Zhaodi took out the original car key: "Drive slowly on the road; nothing will go wrong."

Drake looked at the key, thought for a long time, and still did not dare to take it.

Night fell.

Several stealthy figures wandered through the streets and alleys of the slums; one of them saw a car parked boldly by the roadside and his eyes immediately lit up.

"Leon, hey, look at that car over there; we're really lucky today."

Hearing this, Leon turned his head, glanced at the car on the road, and immediately turned and left.

"Lucky my ass; didn't you recognize the Death Car? The driver just released news today that the Falcone family's demon-slaying car has finally been sold; do you really want to steal it back for him?"

"Hurry up and go! Fool! This car had better stay parked at the street corner for a lifetime."

When away from home, one's reputation is carved out by killing.

(End of Chapter)