Chapter 789

After Cat Getan gradually entered summer, the temperature rose, the wind and rain stopped. Except for some light rain in the first half of the night, the weather became much better. Such weather is friendlier to homeless people. At least they don't have to worry about freezing to death at night anymore.

Ironically, Bruce didn't throw away the money from his arch-enemy Joker Jack. This is incredible for Batman. Every thing related to criminals is a virus in his view, and money is especially so.

But right now, he is not Batman, but he is also not Bruce Wei En. Neither of these two people would make such a crazy move, to fight to the death in the slums with these civilians he had never paid attention to.

Batman would feel that this is a waste of time, because in fact, he hasn't done anything during this period.

He exhausted all his energy and physical strength, and the only thing he did was to survive. If it were the Batman of the past, he would definitely denounce this as a waste of life.

But Bruce is just living here in fear, unable to take a step for half a day. He has already been so poor that he accepted the relief of Joker Jack, but still doesn't have enough money to rent a better apartment.

Bruce's initial goal was the Living Hell. That place had undergone his transformation, and he also wanted to see with his own eyes what it had become.

Then he discovered that he couldn't afford to rent a house there.

The rent for a one-bedroom apartment in the Living Hell is 15 dollars a week. This is an unimaginable high price in the East District. The apartment where Selina lives is also a one-bedroom apartment, with a bathroom and a balcony, and it only costs 6 dollars a week.

Bruce, who couldn't afford a one-bedroom apartment, lowered his standards. The Living Hell has some rooms on the edge of the building. They are inside the Living Hell, just single rooms that others can't use. There is only one bedroom, no living room or kitchen. Those with windows are 3 dollars a week, and those without windows can even go down to 2 dollars.

But this room is very small, so small that it can only fit a bed. And, since it is a room rented out by others, it means that he must live with the landlord. Bruce asked several families, and no one was willing to live with a strong adult male like him, because this is very dangerous.

Those who can rent such a good house at a low price are basically women with relatively weak bodies, such as Maggie. This will not threaten the safety of the landlord, and there must be an acquaintance to introduce, otherwise, Gothamites will not let others live in their homes casually.

Discovering that he couldn't afford the house in the Living Hell, Bruce started looking at the vicinity of the Living Hell again. But as long as the house is within the range of the water purifier, the rent is very expensive.

The water purifier that Batman once spent a lot of money to install here has now become the culprit for his inability to rent a house.

But Bruce must rent a house with a water purifier. His stomach can no longer bear any more.

After winding around, he finally asked someone who had a way. It was still a member of the children's gang nearby. The cigarette vendor said to Bruce: "The basement near the Living Hell is for rent. Not only is there a water purifier there, but there is also a public bathroom on each floor. It was built together with the Living Hell before."

"However, it also needs a gang to guarantee for you there. But I know a gang that does this business. As long as you can take out the money, they are willing to help you find a house."

Bruce thought about it and felt that he had no better choice. So, under the guidance of this cigarette vendor, he found that gang intermediary.

They lived in a dilapidated house on the edge of the Living Hell. Just seeing the environment here, Bruce's heart cooled by half. If they really had a way to get a good house near the Living Hell, then why would they still live here?

The boss of the intermediary is a woman covered in tattoos. She patted Bruce on the shoulder and said to him: "You are from out of town, right? We have been doing this business for a year, and all customers are very satisfied. As long as you pay the money, I guarantee to find you a suitable house."

"Can I ask about the price?" Bruce asked.

"10 dollars employment fee. We can help you negotiate the rent. You can see the house in advance. However, after renting it, you can't change your mind again."

That woman smoked a cigarette and said: "We can also help you find a job. We have ways for both the back kitchen and the front desk. Of course, if you are willing to go to a strip club, I can also introduce you. You will be very popular."

Hearing her guarantee so confidently, Bruce was already a bit suspicious. He himself is a very suspicious person and almost doesn't trust anyone. So, he finally refused this intermediary and planned to find it himself.

Then he discovered that everyone who rents a house here is an intermediary.

Every one of these intermediaries patted their chests and guaranteed that they could find a suitable house. Bruce had no other choice but to pick an intermediary he felt was the most reliable.

Facts proved that his eye for people was not bad. This was not a black intermediary and did indeed find him a house. But the price was also very expensive. The employment fee was 15 dollars, and the rent was 5 dollars a week, with a one-month minimum lease.

The house Bruce newly rented was still a basement. Fortunately, it was relatively close to the Living Hell, so there was a water purification system. A faucet in the room could drink water directly. But if he wanted to go to the bathroom, he had to leave here and go to the public bathroom in the Living Hell.

But facts proved that finding an intermediary only has two results: being scammed and being scammed heavily. Just after living in for one day, the house started to leak. The water pipe upstairs wasn't sealed tightly. The place where it leaked was just at the head of Bruce's bed. The next day, he caught a cold again.

After living for two more days, Bruce discovered that his neighbor was doing illegal transactions. Customers of all kinds came and went endlessly. In the middle of the night, he could also hear some movements he didn't want to hear but had to hear.

Just after living for a full week, a gang came to the door to ask for protection money. Bruce thought it was extortion, but the neighbors all paid, so he could only pay. After chatting with the neighbor, he found out that the reason why the rent was cheap was because it didn't include protection money. The protection money was 5 dollars a week.

Bruce's patience really reached its limit. He can accept being hungry, can accept being blocked on the road, but he cannot accept being scammed.

Batman is a very tolerant person, the most tolerant person besides Schiller.

Bruce wants to clean up these black intermediaries, but he knows that he can only take it by wisdom. He cannot accept the consequences of being injured. And if he wants to take it by wisdom, he must drive the tiger to swallow the wolf and borrow strength to hit strength.

And just at this time, he heard that the big boss of this area was thoroughly investigating illegal renting. He spent money to bribe a child, and that child pointed out the person who came to investigate to him.

So, Bruce met the informant by chance one night and successfully became a witness, identifying the black intermediary who rented him the house and the gang that collected protection money twice a week.

It was simple to identify the black intermediary, but it was a bit difficult to testify that the gang didn't follow the rules.

The person investigating said that their boss wanted to see him. Bruce didn't think much and went. Then, he saw a familiar person. That was Cobblepot who was waiting in the restaurant.

When Cobblepot saw Bruce, he felt that he was having a hallucination. He unscrewed the medicine bottle again, threw a pill into his mouth, and let Bruce wait in the meeting room for half an hour before he went in again.

Then he discovered that his mental state was really getting worse and worse. Taking medicine couldn't solve the problem of having hallucinations.

The person in front of him had the face of Bruce Wei En, probably the face of Bruce Wei En.

But at this time, he was very thin, his cheeks were a bit sunken, and more importantly, his beard wasn't trimmed, his sideburns weren't shaved, he wasn't wearing a watch on his hand, and even his boots were covered in mud.

Staring at Bruce for a full minute, Cobblepot determined that his memory didn't have a problem, the one who had a problem was this person in front of him.

"What on earth is wrong with you???" Cobblepot looked at Bruce and asked.

"You don't need to worry about so much." Bruce sat on the sofa, patted the dust on his sleeves, and said: "I can tell you how many black intermediaries there are around the Living Hell, how many gangs are collecting protection money in violation of regulations, how many children took the intermediary's money to solicit customers for them. I can even tell you how many pimps there are around here, and where their places of business are."

Cobblepot felt that the current situation was very interesting. In front of him was Bruce Wei En, the famous Batman. But what was interesting was not this, what was interesting was that Batman just said he wanted to tell him intelligence.

"Are you sick? Wei En?" Cobblepot glanced at the weather outside and said: "If you are crazy, hurry up and take medicine. Aren't there enough lunatics in this city? You can't cure them, so you choose to join?"

"I'm not crazy." Bruce's eyes were sunken in the eye sockets, deeper than usual, but his eyes were very bright.

And he seemed to have completely abandoned the original Riddler style. He said: "I can help you improve the efficiency of the work of reorganizing the order around the Living Hell by more than 50%. The problem is, how much reward do you plan to pay for this?"

"You are really crazy." Cobblepot sat opposite Bruce, looked into his eyes, and said: "I am willing to help you call Professor Schiller now and let him take you to Arkham Asylum for treatment. How much reward are you willing to pay for this?"

"I said, I'm not crazy. If you want to call that professor, then call. Because I already have the confidence to write an excellent thesis and then graduate from him as an excellent graduate." Bruce said.

Cobblepot covered his forehead with his hand. He said to his subordinates: "You go to my office and bring me the second bottle of medicine from the right on my table."

After a while, the subordinate brought that bottle of medicine over. Cobblepot waved his hand at the burly bodyguards beside him. They immediately went up and pinned Bruce down. This was actually very simple, because Bruce had lost a lot of weight and didn't have much strength, almost unable to resist.

Cobblepot poured a pill out of the medicine bottle and said to Bruce: "This is a sedative. Your weight is much heavier than mine, so taking one pill should be just right."

Then, he let his subordinates feed this pill into Bruce's mouth. Bruce was struggling hard, but it was of no use. He had lost at least 30 pounds in this month or so.

Originally, he was of a relatively lean body type. After more than a month of extreme poverty, his water and fat had basically bottomed out, and his muscles had also started to drop. Up to now, saying he could fight Cobblepot to a draw was a bit exaggerated, but he definitely couldn't beat a gang bodyguard who was over 80 kilograms.

Fortunately, Cobblepot didn't intend to make things difficult for him. He wasn't a lunatic like the Joker. He knew the weight of Bruce Wei En. And he did this not to make Batman look ugly, but because he was really afraid that he would do something crazy and hurt himself.

People can die, but don't die in my restaurant, Cobblepot thought. If Wei En really died here, this restaurant wouldn't be able to do any more business with celebrities.

Chatting with Bruce for a long time, Cobblepot determined that he was really crazy. He wasn't even afraid of Schiller anymore. He wasn't afraid of anything now.

But Cobblepot was afraid.