Chapter 30: Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Gang Boss Who Spat Blood

It turned out that every villain at the start of any story is utterly foolish—like the current president of Gotham University and Police Commissioner Victor; had Batman been in his prime instead of a rookie, he wouldn’t have given them a second glance.

Fortunately, Maroni, the villain who appears midway through the story, was at least competent—before Batman could even raid his base, his production line was already running, churning out vast quantities of fear toxin.

Shi Le didn’t move against this batch of fear toxin right away, because once he succeeded once, the enemy would surely become more vigilant.

Although large amounts of fear toxin were produced, they were only temporarily stored in warehouses, because Maroni knew this biochemical weapon had to be deployed in massive quantities at once—ideally covering an entire neighborhood—to maximize its effect.

Unfortunately for him, this played right into Shi Le’s hands.

When the three warehouses of the small chemical plant were nearly full of fear toxin, Shi Le activated the Grey Mist and flew straight in, swallowing all the concentrated fear toxin at once.

Shi Le dared to do this because the Grey Mist told him that as a symbiote, it could directly consume and store the fear toxin, with no risk of running out of space.

But Shi Le doubted it—this was like a drunkard assuring you that storing alcohol with him posed no problem.

Fortunately, the symbiote was reasonably obedient; once it dispersed into mist, it devoured every last drop of fear toxin in the warehouses within an instant—and didn’t get drunk.

The bottles containing the fear toxin showed no change; the symbiote’s molecular factors slipped inside their structure and consumed every trace of toxin.

The next day, when Maroni came to inspect the warehouses, he was stunned.

The crates and bottles stood neatly arranged, with no sign of forced entry or exit anywhere in or around the warehouse—but the fear toxin was gone.

Maroni knew the consequences if certain people discovered this biochemical weapon, so even though the chemical plant was small, its security was extremely tight—especially the warehouse storing large quantities of fear toxin, which was nearly impenetrable.

But he couldn’t expect his guards to be alert to a sudden mist drifting past in the middle of the night—and so Maroni was completely ruined.

He had spent millions of dollars, countless manpower and resources, and owed favors to several people; after investing enormous time, his achievement was just one step away from completion—only to be stolen entirely.

If this had failed from the start, fine—but now he’d poured in manpower, sunk millions, installed brand-new equipment, hired top-paid chemists, fought a bloody war with the Red Ravens, lost dozens of top men, paid all the funeral expenses—and now you tell me the finished product was stolen???

Who wouldn’t spit blood over this?

Worse, Maroni knew the police and some bizarre Batman were watching him; to counter them, he activated many informants he’d never used before, stirring his entire intelligence network—causing many informants to die and half his network to be shattered beyond repair. This was decades of his life’s work.

Just as Maroni, weighed down by sunk costs, was forced to invest even more to produce another batch of fear toxin, he returned to the production line—and found every instrument, bottle, and jar reduced to powder.

The sound of Maroni’s shattered heart could be heard across all of Gotham.

The symbiote’s performance thrilled Shi Le—it told him that not only fear toxin, but any substance with molecular structure could be disassembled, absorbed into its symbiotic factors, and later reassembled into its original form when needed.

This meant Shi Le now had a portable storage space—he could store most ordinary items, whether metal, plastic, or fiber, and the symbiote would perfectly consume and preserve them, then restore them when necessary.

Shi Le thought: low-level criminals harm others while harming themselves; slightly smarter ones harm others to benefit themselves.

But he was different from both—he excelled at seizing great personal gains while accidentally doing good along the way.

Who would want to be a villain if they could be a hero? In Shi Le’s view, those who only harmed others for personal gain were simply not smart enough.

If you can gain both fame and profit without any moral guilt, why not do it?

His actions this time not only obliterated the Red Ravens and inflicted heavy losses on the Maroni family, but also shattered the trust between gangs, police, and Gotham City’s government—their first close collaboration ended in utter failure; even if Sal were an idiot, he wouldn’t dare cooperate with these politicians and cops again.

Moreover, given the current situation, the heavily damaged Sal had no intention of letting them off—he didn’t need to find the thief; he could simply squeeze more money out of Victor.

Victor vanished before his trial; no one knew where he went. With Maroni too occupied to care about Gordon’s position, Gordon naturally became head of Gotham PD’s field operations unit—his first real power.

The president of Gotham University also met with misfortune; since Batman had no private prison yet, after gathering evidence, he dumped the unconscious president back in his office—but that very night, he was hit by a truck. Though saved by hospital intervention, he suffered permanent disability; his ambitions for advancement were now impossible.

The gang landscape in the East District grew even more complex: the Red Ravens were wiped out, breaking the previous stalemate—but the Maroni family lacked the strength to dominate the entire East District.

Several small gangs banded together, hoping to carve a piece of meat from the tiger; Maroni wouldn’t let his family’s interests be devoured.

Suddenly, the entire East District became a gang warzone; after a bloody, mutually destructive firefight, the Maroni family could only reach a temporary non-aggression pact with the new emerging gangs—but even this was a massive loss for them, as some minor gangs under their control began to defy authority.

Jonathan Crane was never imprisoned, because he truly was mentally ill—not due to any defense strategy, but because the chief psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum reached an authoritative conclusion.

Whether Jonathan ended up in Gotham Prison or Arkham Asylum didn’t matter—he wasn’t the Scarecrow yet, and lacked the ability to escape either place.

Meanwhile, the Wayne family exposed the pest who ran Wayne Chemical; Batman gained his first minor fame in Gotham; Miss Christine was rescued without serious harm; and Shi Le acquired a large quantity of fear toxin as a weapon.

A world where only gangsters and criminals got hurt had been achieved.

Though neither the Gotham University president, nor Commissioner Victor, nor Maroni were major figures in Batman’s world—they were merely disposable pawns at the story’s start, and thus seemed somewhat foolish—Shi Le knew the curtain of Batman’s world had not yet fully risen; the truly dangerous and deranged criminals had not yet taken the stage.

But under his interference, Batman would grow faster—and might gain greater advantage when facing his old adversaries.

With visions of the DC world in mind, Shi Le sank once more into sleep—and when he awoke, he was back in the bustling streets of New York.

Unfortunately, the first person he saw that morning was the one he least wanted to see.

“Please sit down, Miss Natasha. I won’t waste time on formalities.”

Across from him, Natasha wore casual clothes—she looked less like a female agent and more like a housewife who’d just gone for a morning run; she wore light makeup, her complexion glowing, her hair pinned up—not at all like the Black Widow.

But this made more sense—wearing a black bodysuit, holsters full of guns and gadgets, appearing in Hell’s Kitchen would guarantee ambushes, even rocket launchers.

Natasha sipped her coffee and said: “Mr. Shi Le, first, I must apologize on behalf of Coulson. Our initial approach to you was solely because you were Stark’s psychological consultant, and we wanted to learn more about Stark’s psychological issues—after all, you know the impact if a giant like Stark Industries collapsed.”

“But now we’ve come to you because we truly need your help—we simply can’t find a better psychologist than you.”

Needless to say, this female agent was endlessly adaptable—dressed casually, sipping coffee, speaking calmly at the table, her beautiful face making it nearly impossible to dislike her.

It seemed the Black Widow wasn’t only aggressive—she was indeed an excellent agent, capable of shifting her style according to circumstances.

Shi Le said: “You don’t need to beat around the bush. I know exactly why I was dismissed from the Elder Council Hospital—but you found nothing there, correct?”

“The only thing that interested me there was useless to you. I was merely completing my research, yet you fired me based on baseless suspicions—this debt needs settling.”

“We don’t know the personnel arrangements at the Elder Council Hospital, but we do have a better job offer,” Natasha said.

She pulled a file from her bag and handed it to Shi Le: “We formally invite you, Mr. Shi Le Rodriguez, to serve as a Special Senior Psychological Consultant for the Strategic Homeland Defense, Attack, and Logistics Support Bureau, providing psychological counseling to one or more specific bureau members.”

Shi Le said: “I’m sorry, I don’t…”

“Same rate as your deal with Mr. Stark: one million dollars per hour.”

“Thank you. Looking forward to working with you.” Shi Le smiled and extended his hand to shake hers.