Chapter 1198

When Bruce opened his eyes again, what appeared before him was Gordon's face. But instead of the confused questioning or concern he expected, Gordon said with a hint of anxiety, "Bruce, Mayor Luo Yin was assassinated this morning and is seriously injured!"

Bruce sobered up instantly, but along with the clarity came intense pain and a dizziness that made him feel somewhat suffocated.

He found he couldn't straighten his body at all. Gordon hurriedly helped him sit up and said, "Who on earth did you go fight with last night? You have three broken ribs, a lung injury, and you've lost two molars."

Bruce's brows furrowed deeply, and a flash of anger crossed his eyes, but he didn't answer. Instead, he asked, "How is Luo Yin?"

"Not good at all." Gordon looked troubled. He sighed and continued, "He pulled through, but the problem is, many people now think it was Falcone who did it, and the situation has become extremely tense."

Gordon sat on the edge of Bruce's bed, pouring him water as he said, "You know, the Falcone family is a gang family after all, and the younger Falcone has to be responsible for the family's interests."

"His prestige was never as high as his father's, so on certain matters, he must be ruthless and see things through to the end to establish his own authority."

"He and Luo Yin also have disagreements on certain issues regarding urban development. Luo Yin thinks he is too selfish, caring only for the Falcones and the Twelve Families, and is fundamentally unable to solve Cat Getan's problems at the root."

"Alberto thinks Luo Yin is completely unrealistic, wanting to copy the successful model of the Imperial City without making localized reforms, which will lead to failure."

"Luo Yin thinks Alberto just wants to seek private gain for the Falcone family, and Alberto thinks Luo Yin is doing it for his own political career. The problem is, neither of them can prove they have no selfish motives."

"Before, you were there to mediate in the middle, and neither of them dared to offend you, so things didn't get too out of hand. But you haven't attended the last few banquets, and on the surface, they have already fallen out completely."

"As a result, this morning, Luo Yin was assassinated on his way to the municipal office building. He was shot four times, but fortunately, the hospital was nearby, and he survived."

"He said he didn't see the killer clearly, but everyone thinks it was Alberto. To be honest, the Falcone family has a long history of such things; everyone knows how the previous mayors died."

Bruce struggled to crawl out of bed, then instantly hunched over, his face showing pain, but he still braced himself to stand up and shouted toward the door, "Alfred... Alfred! Prepare my clothes; I'm going to the Falcone estate."

Gordon helped Bruce barely put on his clothes, but Bruce could hardly stand, his movements looking too haggard. Bruce took a deep breath, looked at Gordon, and said, "Help me get some painkillers, and don't let Alfred know."

Just as Gordon opened his mouth, Bruce raised a hand to stop him from speaking, then said, "I know the dangers of abusing painkillers better than anyone, but the situation is special now. Cat Getan's transformation is at a critical stage, and I absolutely cannot let all of this go to waste."

Gordon sighed. He helped Bruce sit on the edge of the bed, hesitated for a moment, and then pulled out the walkie-talkie hanging at his waist.

After a while, a bag hanging from a rope appeared outside the window. Gordon walked over, opened the window, and took the bag down. Inside were several bottles of medicine. Just as Bruce reached out to take them, Gordon pulled his hand back and said:

"I have to remind you, this stuff might affect your IQ. Your precious genius brain must not be poisoned by drugs, so you must swear to me that you will absolutely not abuse the painkillers."

"Don't worry, I swear. I care about my brain more than anyone."

Gordon hesitated in every way, but in the end, what made him hand the medicine to Bruce wasn't Bruce's guarantee, but the pain between his brows.

Bruce felt a bit better after taking the medicine, so the two of them planned to leave. But just as they walked out of the room, Bruce saw Dick at the end of the corridor.

Dick walked up hesitantly, still holding his workbook. He pursed his lips and struggled for a long time before saying, "Last night, Tim and Jason persuaded me all night. Alright, I'm sorry, Bruce. I know I was..."

Rapid footsteps came from the direction of the stairs. A uniformed officer rushed up, whispered a few words into Gordon's ear, and Gordon's expression changed. He said to Bruce, "Luo Yin's sister went to the Falcone estate with a gun. She shot Alberto once, then shot herself. Mrs. Falcone was frightened and fainted. It was only after going to the hospital for an examination that they discovered she was pregnant, but the situation is not good."

"Alberto is about to be furious to death. He wants the lives of Luo Yin and his sister. The heads of the Twelve Families are all trying to dissuade him, but they can't hold him back much longer. We must go there immediately; we must stop Alberto."

Bruce's expression also changed. He knew that the Falcone family were all of Italian descent and traditional Catholics who valued family very much. With Mrs. Falcone injured, the conflict would definitely be escalated to a very dangerous level.

Bruce really couldn't care about anything else. He strode down the stairs, opened the police car door, pulled the driver out, sat in himself, and sped away with a stomp on the gas pedal.

Dick stood where he was, watching his back. The courage he had mustered overnight dissipated completely.

By the time Bruce returned to the estate after mediating all the conflicts, dragging his exhausted and painful body, Dick had already packed his schoolbag. Bruce walked to his side, sat down, and said, "Dick, I'm back. I think we can talk."

"I'm really sorry." Dick's eyes filled with tears as he looked at Bruce and said, "I didn't know you were injured. I didn't know you were hurt so badly."

The black-haired boy turned his head away, reached out to pack the last book into his bag, and then said, "You should go rest and get a good sleep. I don't have any problems, or rather, compared to the problems you face, mine are all small problems. I can solve them myself."

Bruce looked at him, stunned. For some reason, he felt as if his chest was blocked by something, which made him feel even worse than the pain of his broken ribs.

"Just now, I called my teacher to apologize. I promised her that I would do my homework well and asked her to agree to let me board at school. Today is Friday, so I won't be coming back this weekend either."

After finishing, Dick put on his schoolbag. He walked in front of Bruce, stared into his eyes, and said, "We should all try not to make you worry, so you can use your free time to rest."

"Dick, don't be like this, Dick..." Bruce repeated Dick's name and said, "We need to have a good talk."

"You should go to the hospital now." Dick looked at Bruce's pale complexion and said very seriously, "I can solve my own problems, so you should go solve yours too."

After finishing, Dick started to walk out. Bruce grabbed his arm. Dick turned back somewhat helplessly. He opened his schoolbag, took out his workbook, opened it, and showed it to Bruce: "Look, I did my homework well yesterday, understood all the questions, and even corrected the previous mistakes."

Bruce glanced at the neat handwriting in the workbook. He found that he didn't feel happy at all, but instead felt a sense of anger and bitterness, though he then felt ashamed of this emotion.

Dick closed the workbook, gently touched Bruce's face with his hand, and said, "I'm going to school."

When the boy turned around, he happened to walk into the sunset light coming through the floor-to-ceiling window. The string in Bruce's heart finally snapped.

"Come back, Dick!"

Bruce could no longer feel the pain. He stood up, grabbed Dick, and pulled him back. Dick frowned, clearly hurt by him, but Bruce had no intention of letting go. He emphasized again: "I said, come back! Dick! What on earth are you messing around with?!"

"I'm going to school!" Dick emphasized.

"I said I wanted to have a good talk with you. You think you have nothing to say to me, then you throw a tantrum on your own, and now you want to run away from home. Dick Grayson, do you think I will let you mess around like this?!"

Bruce felt the blood in his whole body begin to burn. He strode to the side of the phone, dialed, and said, "If you don't want to study, then I'll call your teacher and ask for a few days off. You must develop good study habits at home before going to school."

Dick was stunned. The schoolbag in his hand fell to the ground. He looked at Bruce in disbelief and said, "Do you think I'm lying? Even if I finished my homework well, you still don't believe me? You still want to call the teacher to confirm if what I said is true?!"

Instantly, Dick's eyes turned red. He gritted his teeth and said, "If you hate me, you can just say it! If I don't do my homework well, you lecture me. Now that I do my homework well and plan to go to school, you won't let me go. Is it that whatever I do is wrong?"

"Last night, you were having nightmares because of trauma, and this afternoon, you tell me you want to board at school. Dick Grayson, is this how you show responsibility for your own health?!" Bruce also raised his voice.

"I know better than you whether my mental health is good or not!" Dick had almost started screaming.

But then, he showed an incomparably sad expression, stood where he was, and muttered to himself: "You wouldn't be like this to Tim and Jason. I shouldn't have believed them when they said you were a first-time father with no experience. I shouldn't have been considerate of you. You don't appreciate it at all!"

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"I just want you to be better!" Bruce said.

Dick took two steps back, shaking his head while saying, "As good as you are now?"

Bruce widened his eyes. Dick wiped away his tears, stepped back, and said, "How can you demand of me what you can't even do yourself?"

After finishing, he turned and ran out the door. The phone in Bruce's hand fell, hitting the ground with a "clang."

Bruce leaned on the back of the sofa and sat back down. An uncontrollable, severe pain erupted from his chest. He had never felt such pain in his life.

Bruce felt that even breathing was difficult, like a fish about to dry up. The dizziness brought by that suffocation covered his eyes with a layer of black mist. An inexplicable fear surrounded him; he felt he was going to die.

Bruce had never thought this way before, but this time he felt incomparably panicked. He firmly believed he would die, and he also firmly believed he was afraid of death.

He almost scrambled to fish the painkillers out of his pocket, trembling as he poured out a handful and stuffed them into his mouth.

Hazy and dreamlike light and shadows appeared before Bruce's eyes, making him feel as if he had returned to the roof of Wayne Tower, seeing the neon lights of Cat Getan every night.

And Thomas, who truly saw these neon lights, took off the pistol at his waist. His black-gloved fingers loaded four bullets into the magazine. There was no joy of victory between his brows.

Surprisingly, the wrinkles of this aged Batman, already tamed by pain, could actually squeeze even more pain out of the pain.

Just like the cold rain that never ends in Cat Getan every night.