Chapter 788

Bruce left. Perhaps out of consideration for the gun in his hand, the strong man didn't pester him either.

Driving that truck that was about to fall apart, biting into the tasteless bread, Bruce felt a sense of relief. Having no money is better than being in debt. At least the consequence of having no money now is just being hungry. If he really owed the gang's usury, then he would probably be in real trouble.

He deeply realized that he was no longer that omnipotent Batman who could go to heaven and enter the earth. His current state was very bad. He had never been so disheveled in his life.

Not having enough to eat for many consecutive days had consumed a large amount of energy. His weight had dropped by at least ten pounds. The cold had improved quite a bit, but his throat had been hurting all along, seemingly turning into bronchitis. His stomach still couldn't adapt to the diet here, and he would still have diarrhea at every turn.

Under these circumstances, Bruce couldn't use force against those strong gang members, because he couldn't accept the consequences of not being able to beat those gang members.

When he was Batman, if he didn't beat the gang members, just like when he had just become Batman, lime was sprinkled in his eyes, he fell from the cage top, and fell into the trash can. The consequence was that he returned to Wayne Manor in a disheveled state, cleaned the expensive uniform, bandaged the wounds, checked his eyes, put in some eye drops, and then went upstairs to rest.

But if it were now, if he were beaten up by gang members and fell from the roof, let alone the risk of possible fractures or organ rupture, he couldn't even accept the result of just spraining his hands and feet, because then he wouldn't be able to drive.

Not driving means not being able to earn money. Not earning money means not having money to eat. Not eating means being weaker. Being weaker means being easier to bully. Being easier to bully means being easier to get hurt. And being easier to get hurt means only being able to earn less money...

Bruce now understands a bit why the foreman said that people who entered the cannery district couldn't get out.

Because once you step into this river of poverty, you can't flow upstream. Everything can only slide toward an irredeemable abyss until a certain node, falling from the waterfall and being smashed to pieces.

Fortunately, in the next few days, Bruce's luck was not bad. He lived a few days of stable life, saved tens of dollars, and also made some friends among the truck drivers.

He gradually figured out the rules here and finally got to eat this meal. And at this time, an old master in a truck group found Bruce and said he wanted to invite him to go play this weekend.

Before, Bruce had also participated in activities with other truck drivers, but their activities were mostly finding a delicious barbecue restaurant to eat barbecue, or taking group orders, and everyone split the money after earning it.

Bruce only wants to bury his head in making money right now and has no interest in playing. But that old truck driver is the head of another small group. That group has a way to transport fresh food outside the city. Transporting fresh food is a money-making job, much more profitable than transporting ordinary goods. Bruce thought about it and decided to go with him to see if he could meet people from the farms outside the city.

The old master took Bruce to a nightclub. Bruce no longer had the condition to use ginger juice to replace beer, so he did drink some. But fortunately, his alcohol tolerance was better than ordinary people's, so he didn't feel drunk.

After three rounds of drinks and five flavors of dishes, the main show was finally about to start. Several girls leaned on them. Bruce smelled the thick, cheap perfume on them and only felt like vomiting.

Others were having a great time, but Bruce, whose consumption had downgraded like jumping off a cliff, couldn't even maintain the expression of acting.

These girls, not to mention comparing them to those glamorous socialites, even the most ordinary waitresses in the restaurants Bruce usually frequented had much more temperament than them.

Bruce started pretending to be drunk and ran to the bathroom to vomit violently. Those girls didn't like to hang out with young boys like him either. They knew he had no money. Those old truck drivers, although their hands and feet weren't clean, were still quite generous.

Other young people who came for the first time like Bruce were all currying favor. They enjoyed the feeling of being pursued and were even willing to spend money on drinks for these girls.

Bruce pretended to have gastroenteritis, vomited and had diarrhea, and left the scene. After a while, he saw these people come to the alley behind, each taking one away and getting into their respective trucks.

Bruce, who returned alone, didn't feel regret. He just had a sense of relief of having escaped death. He felt that if he breathed the same air as these people for one more second, he would get sick.

The next morning, the refreshed old master found Bruce again and felt very regretful that he couldn't bring him to have fun yesterday. He invited him to play again tonight. Bruce originally wanted to decline, but unexpectedly, the boss of the small group he was in also went. Bruce had no choice but to follow.

Fortunately, there were no girls this time. More than a dozen people drank a few rounds, cleared the table, and started playing cards.

Two people played against each other, and more than a dozen people placed bets. When the atmosphere became heated, the banknotes that took a whole day of hard work to earn were thrown onto the table with a loose hand. If one wanted to pick them up again, one would be despised by everyone. The look the boss glared over would be brighter than a light bulb.

Bruce only watched and didn't join the game, which soon caused dissatisfaction. But he didn't choose to stand outside the table and place bets, but joined the game himself.

There were no wiretaps, no monitors, and Bruce didn't have built-in X-ray vision. His superb intelligence allowed him to remember every card and figure out the card paths on the field and in his hands. In general, he won more and lost less, but after the game broke up, he was clamored to treat everyone to a meal.

Coming again the next day, he lost more and won less, and was instigated to win it back. Bruce felt for the first time that the entertainment time after work was not that precious. He would rather drive the night shift.

In order to avoid this annoying bad social interaction, Bruce decided to rush to deliver goods at night. Night shifts earn more money, but are also harder to drive.

Driving at night is easy to get sleepy, especially in the first few days when the jet lag hasn't been adjusted. Other truck drivers all smoke marijuana to refresh themselves. Bruce firmly refused to smoke, so he crashed the next day.

Fortunately, the crash wasn't serious, just a slight bump. There are no traffic police here, no insurance. The responsibility system mainly depends on who has more bullets in their gun. The truck driver on the opposite side grabbed the turn and also knew he was in the wrong. Looking at Bruce's young face and strong body, the two decided to go back to their own homes and repair their own cars.

Everything else was fine, the key was that one of the car lights was broken. Driving at night, the high beam is very important. Bruce found a repair shop, bargained for two hours, and finally changed to a brand-new high beam, instead of a second-hand one. The price was that the money he had saved was at the bottom again.

Why is saving money so difficult? Bruce has been thinking about the reason.

He doesn't know whether his luck is bad or if his way of doing things is really problematic. Hasn't he adapted fast enough?

Three days of stable work, one week to solve food and clothing, half a month to get a familiar face in the industry. Now it's almost a month. Besides still being penniless, the biggest achievement obtained is that he is still alive.

Bruce can't find a reference object, so he doesn't know if his situation is normal. He wants to find someone he can trust to ask, and then looking around, there is simply no one he can trust here.

Then he discovered that the most trustworthy person in this circle is actually Joker Jack.

Through the various situations observed before, Bruce discovered that Joker Jack should be considered a truck driver who is doing quite well. The bread he buys is half more expensive than his own, not to mention that he can also eat fried chicken.

This is the first time Batman has taken the initiative to find the Joker, but not to put him in prison, but to see if this lunatic is doing better than him.

The result disappointed him greatly. The Joker is doing too well.

When Bruce found Jack, he was leaning against the entrance of the repair shop smoking. Bruce's first reaction was not to stop him from smoking, but to see what he was smoking. He discovered that the Joker was smoking good cigarettes that cost 20 cents a pack. Bruce turned around and wanted to leave.

Jack discovered him. He held the cigarette in his mouth, looked at Bruce, and said: "Look, isn't this our performance champion? It seems that you haven't been eating very well in the past few days. Didn't your bat mother feed you milk?"

Jack walked to the side of the curb and squatted down. Bruce squatted down beside him.

Jack handed Bruce a cigarette. Bruce didn't take it, not because he insisted on not smoking, but because he didn't even have matches.

He couldn't possibly lean over and let Jack light his cigarette. With Jack's clumsy appearance, if his hand shook and he ignited the several kilograms of explosives on his body, the two of them would have to go to the Grim Reaper to see who is better.

"Did you never think that one day you could squat on the side of the road and chat with me calmly?" Jack exhaled a puff of smoke and said: "And you are still jealous of me, jealous that I am doing better than you and have more money than you."

"You are dreaming." Bruce looked at the street in front of him and said: "I am not jealous of you. I don't have as much money as you right now, just because I have worked for too short a time. If I were as experienced as you, I would also have as much money as you."

"If your useless self-esteem could be exchanged for money, you wouldn't have to sleep in a truck long ago." Jack curled his lips and said: "Do you know? I don't want to create any explosion cases at all right now. I don't want to make this question harder, because even if it is so simple, you still can't answer it correctly."

"I will find the answer sooner or later." Bruce held his knees with both hands and said: "Find it right here, find it on them. If I find the answer, Batman will return, and I will send you to prison."

"Don't you think this sounds like you are blessing me?" Jack said: "Blessing me that I don't have to work to exchange for three meals a day, without any risk of starving to death, and can also spend taxpayers' money."

Bruce stood up and leaned against a utility pole nearby. He didn't refute what Jack said, because he discovered that what the Joker said was really damn right, because his current life is not even as good as being in prison.

The Joker held his knees with both hands and put his chin on his arms, saying:

"I don't need to deal with you anymore, because you chose a harder opponent yourself. He is much more powerful than me and much crazier than me."

"In this world, the only thing I admit is crazier than me is reality."

"Batman, I even want to help you. Only when you crawl out of the cradle can you know what is the most desperate thing in this world."

The last scene Bruce saw leaning against the utility pole was the back of the Joker limping away in the sunset. He didn't ignite the explosives, didn't laugh crazily, but did something even crazier—

He left Batman 100 dollars, enough for him to rent a house.