Chapter 3297: Blood-Stained New City (Part 57)

In the ward late at night, a pale and thin man was leaning against the head of the hospital bed. Listening to the steady sound of the ECG monitor, he fell into a deep sleep, but was quickly startled awake.

He picked up the vibrating phone, walked out of the ward, and answered the call. The Pale Knight's low voice echoed in the corridor.

"I know the situation is very bad. Now the public is in urgent need of comfort, I will hold a press conference at 6 o'clock tomorrow morning. I will find a way to restore their confidence and find a way to solve the predicament."

"Thank you, Ms. Viss. Thank you for still being willing to help me."

The Pale Knight hung up the phone. Through the light faintly shooting out from the ward door, he looked at the figure lying on the hospital bed.

"Harley..." The Pale Knight didn't remember how many times he had recited this name. But unfortunately, she couldn't respond to him now. She had been in a coma.

The Pale Knight walked to the end of the hospital corridor and pushed open the window. It was no surprise that Cat Getan was having another sleepless night. There were explosions and firelight everywhere, and screams were endless.

It took several hours for the Pale Knight to collect the agitation and sadness on his face and become firm again.

When he was walking toward the hospital entrance, a familiar figure also walked toward him.

"Good morning, Mayor. We're here to pick you up," Nightwing said.

The Pale Knight nodded to him. Then he got into the car and headed to the press conference site.

When he stepped onto the podium, besides reporters, countless gazes were focused on him. There was despair as well as expectation in the eyes of the public.

Cat Getan used to have only one light, and that was James Gordon. But now, he had fallen. The only thing the public could count on was the Pale Knight.

They desperately hoped that this Mayor who had once led them out of the darkness could once again create a miracle and save them from this hell.

The Pale Knight saw all this; he knew he had to do it, there was no other choice.

The Pale Knight reached out to adjust the microphone in front of him. At the very moment he lowered his eyes, he felt a beam of light flicker on his eyelid.

He had no such experience and didn't understand what this meant. But Nightwing, who had been through hundreds of battles, suddenly realized.

"Mayor! Get down!!!"

"BANG!!!!"

A bullet pierced through his chest, and amidst the splashing blood, the Pale Knight fell.

Everyone was stunned.

Security guards rushed up in a hurry to block in front of the Mayor. Soon there was another shot, but this time nothing was hit. Instead, it allowed Nightwing to detect the sniper's position.

The sniper point was on the rooftop of a nearby building. Nightwing dropped his motorcycle and rushed up the building. After rushing to the top floor, he saw a flash of bright red on the edge of the rooftop.

Nightwing saw a man wearing a red hood holding a sniper rifle, facing the direction where the Pale Knight was shot, observing the chaos on the ground.

Hearing the sound of the rooftop door opening, he turned his head. Nightwing stared at him angrily, clenching the short sticks in his hands.

"Who are you?!"

The other party used his gloved fingers to grope the scope of the sniper rifle. He looked at Nightwing and said: "It doesn't matter if you don't recognize me, I've heard of you for a long time."

Nightwing stared at him dead. The other party's voice was too rough and hoarse, making it impossible for him to tell who it was.

"I heard you joined the GTO," the man wearing the red hood said, "You also started to notice something was wrong, right?"

Nightwing's fist clenched suddenly.

"You noticed that Batman is not the kind of great hero you imagined. What he did was not saving this city. On the contrary, he became a fig leaf for the upper class, and you are his accomplice."

"Who the hell are you?!" Nightwing seemed to have thought of an impossible possibility, and his expression began to become terrified.

He stepped forward, making an attacking posture, seemingly wanting to use this to cover up his panic. But the other party took a step back.

"You can continue," Nightwing heard him say, "But they are running out of patience."

After speaking, the mysterious man retreated directly to the very edge of the rooftop, spread his arms, and fell backward.

Nightwing rushed over suddenly, seeing him swing to the other side of the building with a grappling hook, and then disappear into the crowd.

And the name in his heart only rushed to his throat, without being said, nor swallowed.

"Jason Todd..."

Nightwing returned to Wei En Manor in a daze. He felt he had too many things he wanted to ask Batman, but didn't know where to start. Nor did he expect Batman to answer.

But Batman was surprised by his arrival.

Nightwing held it in for a long time but still couldn't hold it back. He looked at Batman and said: "What happened back then? How did your first Robin go missing? Where is he now?"

Batman's reaction also exceeded Nightwing's expectations. Batman became very vigilant, stared into Nightwing's eyes, and said: "What did you do? Who did you see?"

Nightwing felt very broken, and said: "Why are you always like this?! Why do you never answer my questions directly?!"

He leaned on the table powerlessly and said: "You make me less and less able to believe that you know nothing about what those people have done. If that's not the case, why are you always avoiding it?! Tell me why! Batman!"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about!" Nightwing roared at him, "I'm asking you if you know you are a running dog for the upper class?! Did you kill everyone around you, including Alfred and Jason, because you were afraid this secret would be exposed?!"

Batman was struck by lightning. He stood in place for a few seconds without replying. Nightwing looked at him with red eyes and said: "I want to believe you aren't. But you never explain, and I can't convince myself either."

After speaking, he took off his mask. He left his weapons on the table and said: "Sorry. But until you answer this question directly, I won't help you anymore. Batman."

After speaking, he left Wei En Manor without stopping for even half a second. And Batman was still immersed in shock and hadn't come back to his senses.

When the dazed Nightwing opened the car door and got in, he found someone sitting in the passenger seat.

"Mr. Schiller? Why are you here?"

"Definitely not to comfort you because you and Batman had a fight," Schiller said, "Don't explain to me what you two were arguing about. I just came to ask you some things."

"What things?"

"Some details about your time with Batman. In daily life, have you felt anything wrong with him? Anything is fine, preferably regarding emotions."

This question was too sudden, and Nightwing didn't know how to answer for a moment. But he had just had a fight with Batman, and his head was full of things from the past, so he just talked about them casually.

Schiller took out his medical record book and recorded very seriously. Then he asked again: "This question is very important, I hope you answer me truthfully. Do you think Batman has a tendency toward violence?"

Nightwing opened his mouth and said: "After Alfred died, he was indeed a bit... he might have been too sad."

"Then before, not at all before? What about emotions? Does he get irritable easily?"

This time Nightwing recalled carefully for a long time, then said: "Sometimes he does have some irritable emotions, but I'd say it's more like excitement. But not long after, he becomes very depressed, locks himself up, and doesn't communicate with anyone."

Schiller wrote like flying, recording everything. Nightwing talked intermittently for a long time, all of which were recorded by him.

"Why ask this?" Nightwing asked.

"I am a psychologist. I told you Batman's psychological condition is not optimistic

"I am a psychologist. I told you that Batman's psychological state is not looking good. At first, I also thought it might have been Alfred's death that triggered him, but now it seems it's not that simple."

Schiller paused for a moment before saying, "I suspect this might be a hereditary mental issue, and some people are using certain events to constantly reinforce Batman's mental problems, causing his mental state to deteriorate further."

Although Nightwing had just had an argument with Batman, he still said, "Who could it be? Who would do such a thing?"

Schiller shook his head and said, "I am still investigating. Thank you very much for your answer. If there is nothing else, go back to the police station."

Schiller got out of the car and returned to his own vehicle. He stared at the recorded information for a long while, then put away his medical record book, drove, and arrived at Catwoman's home in the Lower District.

Fiona was currently staying with Catwoman. They were saving people in the Lower District. They were mainly mobilizing community strength to prevent explosions and murders together, and then transporting the wounded to the hospital.

In just a few short days, this girl had almost shed all her immaturity. Her red hair was as dazzling as a flame, and she stood on the street corner constantly directing people as they busied themselves.

Upon learning that the mayor was also seriously injured due to an assassination, the ordinary people seemed to have finally given up on counting on others and instead intended to start saving themselves.

Their means of self-rescue were also very simple: people familiar with each other in the community would form an organization, concentrate all usable defensive supplies and weapons into the hands of adults with stronger combat capabilities, and then have them conduct non-stop patrols. As long as any suspicious persons were discovered, they would be taken down immediately.

All the elderly, children, and pregnant women were gathered together and placed in the safest center of the community, while others were responsible for logistics, providing survival guarantees for everyone.

Fiona was one of the first few people to take action. She was the first to propose such a system and, using her father's prestige, successfully organized the manpower. Their community also avoided many vicious cases because of this.

Surrounding communities saw that doing this was effective, so they also gathered one after another. They used all kinds of waste materials and sandbags to block the community gates, sent people to keep watch and patrol, and organized squads to go out and scavenge for supplies. It was truly a scene of the end of the world.

But regardless, it was quite effective. Those who had been bought off were unfamiliar faces, and before they could even get close to the community, they were driven away. Some who wanted to rush in while holding bombs were also shot dead from a distance. They quickly reduced casualties to a minimum.

Closing off the community, although it reduced casualties, also led to poor communication with the outside world and would gradually lead to a lack of various supplies.

Unfortunately, the poor results of the troublemaking made the upper class even more dissatisfied. They began to announce that hospitals would no longer accept new patients, major supermarkets also closed down and no longer provided supplies, and factory warehouses were strictly guarded, resolutely not letting anyone get close.

The strength of a single community was truly too weak; it was impossible to compete with the bodyguards hired by the wealthy at high prices. Even if they tried to rob, they couldn't grab many supplies.

They truly had no other way and could only unite on a larger scale. They gathered the capable people from several streets and several communities together, and then divided the work and cooperated.

Some carried guns, some prepared bombs, some used the "luring the tiger away from the mountain" tactic, and some were responsible for keeping watch. Regardless of whether it was a hospital, a factory, or a supermarket, they would rob it once they went, run once they robbed, and change locations after firing a shot.

Because survival supplies were too tight—if they couldn't grab any today, they might not have anything to eat tomorrow—they couldn't care about much else; they would empty their magazines upon meeting. Even a teenager like Fiona had blood on her hands from several lives in just a few short days.

Some of them were even considered conservatives. Some areas with more intense resistance directly began assault operations, blowing open the gates of major storage centers; anyone who did not surrender and lay down their arms at the first opportunity would be killed by them directly, without leaving any room for mercy.

For a time, the city was flowing with blood.

After the morning news started on another day, the host announced that this would be the last report, the television station closed down, and Cat Getan declared that it had completely entered a state of anarchy.

Book recommendation, book recommendation.

(End of chapter)