Chapter 299: “Teaching the Dao

Gotham City, a major metropolis on the U. . East Coast, lies along a scenic and temperate coastline, bordered by Broodhaven to the south and Imperial City across the north, and features a humid subtropical climate.

From above, the entire city resembles a rectangle tilted to the right, divided into four districts—east, south, west, and north—centered on the downtown traffic circle.

As previously mentioned, the East District houses the docks and slums, making it the most chaotic yet vibrant area of Gotham; the south is the city's financial center and new-money district, where nearly all photographs of Gotham's towering skyscrapers and glowing lights are taken.

The West District is Gotham's old town, the first area developed, featuring European-style manors and castles, along with a sizable park; Gotham University sits on the border between the West and South Districts, and this is also the most greened area in all of Gotham.

The North District, rarely mentioned in Gotham, is entirely independent: north of the downtown traffic circle runs the Gotham River, splitting the city into northern and southern halves, with the area north of the river being the North District.

On the western bank of the Gotham River, in the southwest corner of the North District, stands the infamous Arkham Asylum; in the southeast corner of the North District lies Gotham's largest lighthouse.

The main reason the North District is seldom discussed is that it is the birthplace of the Falcone family and the Twelve Families.

This goes back to the era when European immigrants ruled Gotham; many, upon hearing the rise of the Italian Mafia, recall the film The Godfather—the soothing, melancholic music, the aged lighting, the elegant voice of the old Don, the red poppy on the black suit, the cigars, the pistols…

But in reality, Italian immigrants in America during that time were heavily discriminated against, as most who came to work were from southern Italy—the poor of Italy.

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Noble European immigrants, estate owners, and factory owners looked down on these Sicilian Italian savages and forbade them from approaching their residential areas.

When Falcone and his group first set foot on Gotham's soil, there were already many Italian immigrants living there, but all of them resided in the desolate and remote North District, because the other three districts—even the chaotic East District—were filled with anti-Italian prejudice.

Falcone's rise began in the North District; as he gradually built his power in Gotham, he transformed the isolated North District into his stronghold, erecting a series of manor buildings and security systems there.

The North District, divided by the Gotham River, was indeed an ideal location for a stronghold—but the early European immigrants avoided it because the terrain was unfavorable.

Gotham's overall topography slopes from north high to south low: the South and West Districts are flat plains, while the North District is hilly; though none of the elevations are high, construction in the North District is far more difficult than elsewhere, and only the unwelcome Italian immigrants lived there.

Today, Gotham's North District has been fully developed into a perfected gang stronghold; the Falcone family's castle sits halfway up the highest mountain in Gotham, and to every Gothamite except Batman, it is a fortress nearly impossible to breach.

The bases of the other Twelve Families also surround Falcone's castle, while the rest of the North District supports the supply chains serving these gang strongholds.

In the Rich Estate, North District, a woman with brown curls and a bulbous nose, wearing a white apron, carried a tray up the stairs; she reached a room on the second floor, where two young officers stood guard, yet she showed no surprise, forcing a faint smile as she said: "Gentlemen, would you like some water?"

"Oh, no thanks, but you can't go in—there's an ongoing investigation."

"I know, I know…" the woman nodded, yet still tried to peer inside; she extended a hand beneath the tray, slipping a roll of dollars to the officer. The young cop coughed twice and whispered: "I know you're worried…"

The woman wiped her eye, revealing a sorrowful expression: "Yes, the whole estate is in panic—no one knows who'll be next…"

The officer waved his hand, still whispering: "It's obvious this serial killer only targets gang bosses. Now, ma'am, please go downstairs…"

The officer glanced back at the door he guarded, then squeezed the roll of dollars in his hand: "I heard Chief Gordon brought in a brilliant detective—maybe we'll find out who did this soon. And once we do, the Don won't let him live."

The woman sighed, handing the tray to the young officer: "Then I won't disturb you. Ask the men inside if they need water. If anything else is needed, just call me."

The officer was about to refuse, but his partner glanced at his watch and said: "They've been inside over two hours—maybe they're thirsty. I'll stay here; you take the water in."

The officer said nothing, nodded, then knocked on the door. A voice replied: "Come in."

As the officer entered with the tray, he saw two men inside: Gordon and Batman. The young cop was unfazed, placing the tray on the table: "Chief, if you're thirsty, there's water."

Gordon nodded, waved him off. The officer set down the water and left immediately—he didn't want to stay longer in the room, for besides the two living men, there was a dead body, and its condition was horrific, filling the entire room with the stench of blood.

He had been sawn in half—vertically.

Batman said to Gordon: "In the past few days, I reviewed all the material on the Twelve Apostles. If I recall correctly, this method of death matches the execution of one of them—Simon the Zealot—sawn in half along the midline of his legs…"

Batman moved to the other side of the corpse. Gordon stood behind the table, keeping his distance—even he rarely saw such a brutal crime scene. The body's left side still held most of the skull, the right side only a small portion, with a noticeable gap between them; blood stained nearly every surface. Gordon covered his nose: "What do you see?"

Batman frowned, puzzled: "Actually, I'm confused—the method is completely different…"

"What do you mean?"

"The way Rich was killed differs entirely from how Lawrence and Hawk were killed…"

"What do you mean? Explain."

Batman crouched, unmoved by the thick, choking stench of blood, staring at Rich's gruesome corpse: "If the first two deaths carried a sense of execution—the kind of 'ritual' favored by deranged killers—Rich's death was crude. Clearly, he did not die peacefully…"

Gordon murmured: "Anyone can see that."

Batman pointed to a mark on the corpse: "Look here—on his neck. There's a footprint."

He stood, then pointed to the corpse's lower end: "One foot wore a shoe; the other didn't. One shoe was discarded nearby—there."

Following Batman's gaze, Gordon looked at the shoe beside the body. Batman moved behind the corpse's feet and pointed to one foot: "This bare foot has a slight fracture at the ankle, severely swollen."

"We can deduce how the killer murdered him."

"The process was simple: the killer shoved Rich to the ground, stepped on his neck with one foot, bent down, grabbed his ankle, lifted one leg, then used a saw to cut him apart between the legs…"

"Clearly, Rich was still alive and struggling at this point—agonizing from pain, he fought desperately. The killer made no pause; to hold him down, he tightened his grip, fracturing Rich's ankle and tearing off the shoe…"

"What does this mean?" Gordon crossed his arms.

"It means this is an exceptionally brutal killer—he sawed a man in half alive, ignoring his screams, cutting him from head to toe without mercy."

"He must possess tremendous strength. Rich was 1. 6 meters tall and weighed 80 kilograms. Subduing him alone was hard enough—much less sawing him apart while he still resisted."

"What puzzles me is that this method differs entirely from the previous two. I even wonder if my assumption is wrong—is this truly a serial killing case?"

"Logically, the first victim, Lawrence, died nailed to a cross—the killer drove wedges into his limbs, heart, and skull…"

"The second victim, Hawk, died by beheading; the third, by being sawn in half—all methods matching the deaths of Jesus's Twelve Apostles. Especially sawing someone in half—unless meant to replicate Simon the Zealot's execution, no one would use such a laborious method."

"But this case differs entirely from the previous two. In Lawrence's case, drugs were detected in his body—he was anesthetized before being nailed, unable to resist at all."

"Hawk was the same: bound first, then beheaded in one stroke."

"But logically, if someone possesses the strength to kill Rich this brutally, there's no need to anesthetize Lawrence or bind Hawk."

"Lawrence was strong, though elderly; Hawk was tall but frail. Neither was as strong as the prime-aged Rich. The killer has the power to subdue and saw Rich apart—yet he went out of his way to immobilize the other two first. That's strange."

"Perhaps Rich's death was the work of two people collaborating?"

Batman shook his head slightly: "In all the serial killer cases I've studied in criminal psychology, the perpetrator is almost always a single individual—no accomplices."

"Not only because the probability of two psychopaths with perfectly matching tendencies meeting is extremely low, but because most serial killers develop an obsessive fixation on killing—they hold unique interpretations of their crimes."

"They care not just about the outcome, but the process itself, even taking great pleasure in misleading police, watching experts guess wrong and remain baffled."

"They refuse to share this joy—they believe no one can fully understand them. They may use innocent bystanders to achieve their murders, but never genuinely cooperate with anyone."

"They relish the sensation of playing the entire world alone—they never let a second person know their full plan, assist them, or—least of all—leave such a crude mess."

Gordon stared at Batman, saying: "That doesn't sound like something you'd learn from a psychology textbook."

"It isn't."

"Your tone reminds me of someone," Gordon sighed.

"Then why didn't you bring him in?"

"Because I can't tell whether he's analyzing the crime scene—or revealing his own method."