Chapter 841: Gotham Renovation in Progress (Part 1)

The first phase of the building renovation project proceeded smoothly; nearly all suspicious individuals had been identified by the children, and when they were alert, no one could slip past their gaze.

After all, even professional assassins had to come scout the area in advance, and these children could spot every stranger who appeared here—any stranger triggered an immediate alarm, with eyes watching from beneath walls, inside display windows, even beneath manhole covers.

Though the children lacked physical strength, their numbers were vast, and when coordinated, they could easily trip up careless gang members.

Although three streets were to be merged into a single building, construction did not begin with a unified foundation and proceed upward together; instead, one building was constructed first, then the next, and finally they were connected.

By sheer coincidence—with absolutely no shadow of corruption—the first building completed housed the majority of the children's allocation slots.

The construction speed of this building was astonishingly fast, even faster than the gang leader on Elizabeth Street had predicted the day Jason heard it; within less than a month, the structure was already finished.

Though many details remained incomplete—such as exterior decoration and landscaping—the building was at least habitable.

Every day, the children squatted beside the construction site, heads tilted upward, watching the building rise bit by bit; in their eyes gleamed a quiet hope that many of them might one day walk this same path, for in construction they saw the dream of stable homes and peaceful lives.

Watching a towering structure slowly rise, becoming the home of countless people, was deeply stirring—but beyond that, there were many things the children could not understand.

These children had seen houses being built before, but the materials used in the structure, and the components used in final finishing, included many things they had never seen—objects that looked as if they came from another world.

After the interior finishing was complete, Wayne Group set up a handover office on the first floor; everyone on the relocation list could come to claim their unit.

At first, the children dared not enter, but Jason led the way into the spacious lobby, where the staff greeted him with a smile.

Sitting at the counter, he said to Jason: "Hello, sir. To confirm your name matches the relocation list, please state your name and extend your arm through the window."

Jason looked down and saw a circular opening beneath the glass; he had never handled paperwork here before and didn't know what the hole was for, but he obeyed, sliding his arm inside.

The staff pulled over a strange machine, aimed it at his hand, and it emitted a low hum before announcing: "Fingerprint recognition complete. Identity: Jason Todd. Serial number..."

The staff moved the machine away, then instructed Jason to stand straight and stare fixedly at a dark dot behind the counter; after a moment, the machine emitted a series of tones, confirming Jason's identity.

Then the staff brought another device, wrapping it around Jason's arm; he felt no pain, but soon the staff glanced at the screen and said: "Genetic sample collected. Next step: chip implantation. Let me see... Done, Mr. Jason. You may retract your arm."

"What genetic sampling? What chip?" Jason asked, staring at the staff. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing serious. We've left a marker on you—it's your key to the door. You don't need to do anything, but only you can open your own door; no one else can, unless you bring them here for authorization."

Jason understood part of it, but the other children still didn't get it; they clustered around him, chattering: "What did those machines do to you? Did it hurt? Did they give you a shot? Where's the key?"

Jason shook his head. "No, it didn't hurt. Just do what the staff told you. The key will be hidden inside your body—no one else can open your door."

"Really? That's amazing?"

"But what if someone forces me to open the door?"

"What if I want to let my friend in?"

At that moment, a more senior staff member stepped forward, clapped his hands, and drew everyone's attention.

"I know you're curious about this new handover method. I'll answer all your questions. You—go ahead, ask first..."

"Um... will this hurt us? Will it be dangerous?"

"No. We're simply collecting personal data and uploading it to the system. This building will recognize you—only those recognized by the building may enter; others will be subdued by the external intelligent defense system."

All the children turned to where the staff pointed. Outside the building, an unfinished courtyard lay ahead, but along the already-built walls, they saw weapons they'd never seen before—smaller and more concealed than floating cannons, yet unmistakably lethal.

"So we don't have to worry about thieves?" one child asked.

"Exactly. Thieves, robbers, unauthorized individuals—all kept out. No extra effort needed from you; everything is smart-recognized."

"And what if someone forces me to open the door? Or grabs me and uses me as a key...?"

"Key holders can grant access to others. Those without keys cannot enter at all. The defense system will precisely target intruders without harming you. How could they force you to open the door if they can't even get inside?"

"What if I want to rent out my apartment?" asked an older child. "I want to live with someone else and rent out my own place—isn't that allowed?"

"Of course. But anyone who wants to rent your apartment must also undergo identity verification and receive a key. Then you must grant them access permission."

The other children erupted into chatter; after a long while, a little girl stepped forward and declared: "I'm next. You cowards—it's just extending your arm! I'll do it!"

She walked over. Though she spoke bravely, her arm trembled slightly as she extended it; the staff smiled at her and completed the handover using the same procedure as Jason's.

The girl turned her arm over, inspecting it. "It really doesn't hurt. No mark at all—you can't even tell. Try it—I'm not lying."

The other children hesitated, then lined up. Someone tried to push ahead, and Jason had to help maintain order.

At that moment, two gang members burst into the courtyard. "What's going on here? What are you doing on our turf? Don't you know our boss has taken over this place?"

Jason nudged Six-Finger Boss beside him. "That guy in the blue jacket—is he from the Blue Jacket Gang?"

"Probably. I've seen them before. That's their uniform. Look at their boots—motorcycle gear. They've got over twenty bikes in their gang..."

The children shrank back in fear, but the staff remained calm. The senior staff member walked to the entrance and called out: "Hello, gentlemen. This is the Wayne Group's sales office for the renovation project. If you're on the relocation list, please queue at the back..."

"Sales office?! Did you get our boss's permission?! You think you can open a sales office on this street without even telling our boss?!"

Suddenly, the roar of motorcycles approached. Dozens of bikes arrived, gang members brandishing guns, advancing toward the entrance. The senior staff member picked up his radio: "Sales office under intrusion. Requesting defense system activation. Disabling safety protocols... 3... 2... 1..."

Floating cannons instantly rose into the air; beams of laser light blazed forth. Jason shielded his eyes. When he opened them again, the air reeked of blood—gang members lay sprawled everywhere. All the children screamed.

"Don't worry. As long as you stay inside, no one can break in," the senior staff member smiled. "The defense system covers this entire building. Once the full renovation is complete, the protected zone will expand further."

"Alright. Line up to get your keys, then let's go see your apartments."

Hearing this, even the frightened children pushed and shoved to claim their keys—nothing was more tempting than a home.

When all the children had extended their arms through the window and received their keys, they followed the senior staff member down a corridor to the elevator.

The protective film on the elevator doors remained intact, but the gleaming metal and intricate patterns still left the children awestruck.

Jason noticed it resembled the elevator at Soqworth Hotel—luxurious, beautiful, though it looked hard to clean. He asked: "Sir, who will clean this place? Do we have to clean it ourselves?"

"No. We'll hire professional cleaners and deploy cleaning machines. These hard-to-reach patterns will be handled entirely by machines."

"By the way, if you have friends or parents, you can recommend them for cleaning jobs here. The pay is high, the work is light—but they still need certification."

Instantly, the children erupted again. Though most had no parents, many had acquaintances, some had only one parent, others lived with relatives—all could think of someone to recommend.

A soft "ding" sounded. The elevator doors opened, revealing a corridor so wide it felt spacious—far wider than Hell's Alley.

All the children stood frozen, then burst into excited chatter.

"Holy crap! How is this corridor so big?! I've never seen one this wide! What's the floor made of? Tile? It's reflecting light!"

"I've been to Hell's Alley—its corridors weren't like this. Is this place even better than Hell's Alley? The rent must be insane!"

"I feel like this is more like a hotel. I delivered things to hotels before—this is almost identical to Wayne Hotel..."

"Where are our rooms? Where's our room? I can't wait anymore!"