Chapter 1650: Bruce Wayne and the Magic Stone (Part One)

After several years of municipal reform, the severe underground ice flooding in Gotham has greatly improved, with most high-quality dense ice layers converted into commercial cold storage facilities, whose building materials are notable for insulation, ensuring cold air remains contained without leakage, thus alleviating Gotham's overall temperature drop.

Since Lex Luthor's Gotham Sun Project made good progress, Gotham now averages two hours of sunlight per day, once at 10 a. m. and once at 3 p. m.

Because the method of exposing Gotham to sunlight is rather crude—using massive energy to expand angelic light rings to temporarily disperse the clouds gathering above Gotham—frequent use has pushed many clouds to the outskirts, slowing cloud thickness and accumulation speed significantly.

This results in Gotham receiving at least three to four hours of direct sunlight daily, leading to the city now experiencing distinct four seasons like Metropolis.

Previously, due to minimal sunlight and constant rainfall, Gotham was perpetually gloomy, cold, and damp year-round, more akin to the Scottish Highlands in climate.

Gotham's first summer after regaining sunlight brought true midsummer, with peak temperatures breaking a twenty-year high and average daily temperatures finally reaching the norm for East Coast cities in summer.

This has been brutal for Gotham residents, who are hardly different from vampires in their aversion to heat.

The cold mist that once lingered on collars and hair has turned into rising hot steam; even slight sweating makes it cling to skin as an aggravating factor, while residual heat from sunlight warms roads and walls, making everyone feel wrapped in a scorching cocoon, with no escape from the oppressive heat wherever they go.

Even fearless Gotham residents struggle to endure the brutal summer; remaining air conditioner stock sold out overnight, installation slots are full, and homes are unbearably hot, prompting Gothamites to devise clever tactics—some flock to large malls to leech air conditioning, others gather on cold storage floors to feel the limited leaked chill.

Some hardcore individuals dig tunnels beneath their homes to share adjacent cold storage sides, creating all-natural, electricity-free cooling rooms, while others exploit their positions to request damaged dense ice blocks from cold storage maintenance staff, placing them indoors to melt and absorb heat for personal cooling.

No matter how many cooling methods exist, most require staying put in a designated spot; venturing onto the streets remains unbearably hot, and Gothamites unaccustomed to this climate, like wilted eggplants under sun, have retreated indoors, refusing to go out unnecessarily.

Remarkably, Gotham's fire-associated gangs nearly ceased operations overnight, with everyone returning home to seek cooling, as street gunfights, while tolerable, pale in comparison to heatstroke—Gotham hospitals, inexperienced with such cases, may fail to rescue victims.

In this seemingly bright midsummer, Gotham has grown unusually quiet, and as the saying goes, when humans depart, myriad species naturally revive their wondrous spectacles.

Unnoticed, faint insect chirps began in the steel forest, Gotham's river swelled with flood season, becoming more turbulent, and at the estuary, accumulated mud now shows traces of crabs and crustaceans.

After adults retreated indoors to escape the heat, the city became children's domain—teenagers, oblivious to cold or heat, play with boundless joy; with gangs idle, fewer tasks exist and no risk of gunfire, so children frolic everywhere along riverbanks and in the water.

Besides children, the most delighted are local tourists; for Gotham residents, this temperature is nearly lethal, but for outsiders, Gotham remains a rare summer retreat.

Gang members have gone into hiding, making previously avoided alleys accessible; more importantly, under Mayor Roy's coordination, Gotham's prime beach locations have gradually opened to tourists.

Gothamites genuinely struggle to understand why anyone would travel specifically to sunbathe, and Gotham's beaches were never suitable for sunbathing before.

Without strong sunlight, going to the sea only brings damper, colder sea winds and unpleasant fishy odors; even the gang families controlling these beaches treat them merely as property to guard, with no one voluntarily going to the beach to endure cold winds for punishment.

Yet to outsiders, this is nothing short of a treasure—golden coastline with excellent sand quality, minimal foot traffic, and pristine natural state fully satisfying.

Because Gotham has a river estuary, its bay shape is more rugged than Metropolis's, seemingly unsuitable for swimming or aquaculture, yet it has spawned a better-fit activity: surfing.

To surfing enthusiasts, this bay environment and wind strength are nothing short of a dreamland—the very strong sea winds disliked by Gotham locals and gang leaders also give sailing experts a significant boost.

Along the entire East Coast coastline, nearly all beaches bordering the sea in cities have been fully developed.

Years of tourism and commercial activity have made those areas overcrowded and chaotic, mostly filled with families bringing children, each with a swimming ring drifting at sea, compressing the space needed by professional sports enthusiasts, while Gotham has emerged in recent years as the last pristine parcel of East Coast coastline they've discovered.

Most visitors to Gotham are young people, with hardly any tour groups bringing elders or children seeking displeasure; youth-congregated areas have a more vibrant cultural atmosphere and higher inclusivity, making niche cultural enthusiasts more readily accepted.

Besides authentic gangster rap, this place has also gained favor from street graffiti enthusiast groups, surfing-level extreme ocean sports lovers, beach sand and sand art aficionados, public space structural creators, and other niche cultural collectives.

As the heat-weary gangs retreat from the streets, these niche enthusiast groups naturally take to the avenues, their cultural atmosphere gradually influencing local youth, and given Gotham's high probability of producing artistic geniuses, its street culture is gradually awakening.

Adding to this, the prior gang-controlled logistics, cold-chain transport, and various small stall vendors under gang influence spurred economic growth, leaving many with spare cash, no longer needing to daily struggle for survival; when idle, people produce bizarre creations endlessly.

Gotham residents' rain-soaked, frenzied minds, aside from crime, indeed harbor other imaginative ideas, previously unrealizable due to poor security and economic conditions; now both are satisfied, and Gotham has briefly produced numerous public works shocking the world.

During Clark's visit to Gotham to film Batman, he casually snapped several photos of Gothamites' bizarre sculptures, which then went viral, prompting many art-media outlets following this trend to turn their attention to Gotham.

Gotham flared up again, and with numerous niche art enthusiast groups passionately recommending it, the momentum grew stronger—where there's heat, there's traffic—so reporters, enthusiasts, and pure clout-chasers began flying under the banner of exploring this bizarre city, flocking to Gotham.

But this created another problem: Gotham already had many residents, and the influx of out-of-town visitors overwhelmed traffic and commerce; as the influencer effect intensified, Gotham began an unprecedented, horrendous traffic gridlock.

Previously, Gotham's jams stemmed from chaotic traffic rules and weak enforcement, but this time, it's truly not due to infrastructure or management—purely, road usage has completely exceeded the city's traffic facilities' capacity.

Roy urgently summoned everyone to a meeting, inviting all Gotham University professors and teachers related to the field, even outstanding students, Wayne Group personnel, gang leaders, and even the sorcerers who had recently arrived in Gotham.

In short, Roy declared that whoever could solve Gotham's current traffic paralysis would receive full cooperation from the city government.

But after endless discussion, the conclusion was singular: Gotham's public transit, as useless as a pile of dog feces, bears full responsibility.

What does it mean for a near-ten-million-population megacity to have almost no bus lanes? What does it mean for one of the East Coast's top-tier modern megacities to have only two subway lines? And those two lines were originally built by Europeans.

As for Gotham subway stations' environment, just imagine: the Joker holding explosives, forcing Batman to choose—going onto a ship rather than into the supposedly densely populated subway—and you'll know this place has reached the point where even the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles would sprint overnight carrying trains to flee, and mermaids in the sewers would spit twice in disgust.

Thus, Gotham's next development focus returned to transportation, to continue growing tourism, accept more population, and make all industries serve visitors more efficiently; Gothamites must unite again to strive for building efficient public transit facilities for this city.

But clearly, distant water cannot quench immediate thirst—overhauling such a vast city's public transit system likely cannot be done without ten or eight years.

Visitors keep pouring in, gangs also need logistics and transport; if not urgently solved, visitors and gangs will become opposing sides, nullifying the hard-won win-win scenario painstakingly built by all, which Roy cannot accept.

To resolve this swiftly, drastic measures may be necessary, so Roy turned his gaze toward miraculous magic.

Or rather, primarily toward the mysterious green power that sorcerers wish to use to build Earth's magical defense network.