Chapter 843: Gotham

The renovation plan in the East District was proceeding in full swing, but soon the first resistance arrived: four gangs along Elizabeth Street jointly filed a protest, demanding the Twelve Families explain why the Wayne family was building on their territory without notifying them—and even killing several of their members.

The leaders of the Twelve Families convened a meeting and decided to summon Bruce Wayne for a talk, though they didn't expect this playboy to offer them any real explanation.

So far, the Twelve Families still believed Bruce Wayne had simply had a sudden fit of idealism, impulsively launching some renovation project out of whim, and that he'd lose interest after a while.

Bruce was no longer planning to pretend, so he arrived at the meeting with his entire advisory team.

"I'd like to introduce to you all the chief architect of this renovation project, John. John, please explain to these gentlemen what I intend to do and the benefits it will bring…"

As John stepped forward, one of the Twelve Families' leaders spoke up: "Mr. Wayne, we understand you, we understand your goodwill, we understand your desire to improve living conditions there—but you must also show us some respect…"

"The four bosses of Elizabeth Street have been harassing me for three days straight—they nearly carried a coffin to my doorstep. What am I supposed to do?"

Bruce cleared his throat and said: "Elizabeth Street is six kilometers away from the area I'm renovating. How could that possibly be their territory?"

"The Blue Jacket Gang told me they eliminated the local gang boss, reclaimed the territory, and became the new rulers there."

"Just as my project was about to begin?"

Sensing the sarcasm in Bruce's tone, the gang boss fell silent, scowling. Soon, John began outlining the entire construction project.

When the discussion first turned to buildings, no one's expression changed—but soon, the conversation shifted to the elevated highways.

In the vision of a three-dimensional city, elevated highways were the core element; Litijiaotong would bring immense convenience, and with proper technology, their potential for expansion was limitless.

What did the gangs fear most now? It wasn't change—they feared that after change, they'd stop making money.

Even if they didn't profit from logistics, more elevated highways would ease traffic congestion, giving them more time to manage their own businesses. Whether from profit or emotional convenience, they all wanted roads built.

The problem was, almost no one wanted to pay for road construction themselves—because pouring too much money into public infrastructure would weaken their own families, leaving them vulnerable to being devoured by rivals.

Last time, the upgrade of Gotham's transportation system and the construction of Hell's Gate were spearheaded by the Godfather, with the Twelve Families sharing the investment equally; since everyone was equally weakened, no one feared being exploited.

But this time, the Wayne family claimed they didn't need the others to pay—only to cooperate with construction, contributing a little manpower, while reaping the immense benefit of a citywide elevated highway network.

Gotham had elevated highways before, but they were built long ago, during Bruce's parents' time. Many had been neglected and were now unusable, yet still occupied valuable space.

Some bridges were barely functional—poorly planned for temporary needs, with awkward on-ramps and off-ramps, forcing drivers to make long detours after exiting. They were no longer suitable for modern Gotham.

No one wanted to pay, so everyone had to make do. But now that Wayne was willing to pay, they had no reason to refuse.

"I must emphasize: the building renovations are designed to support the elevated highways. Even Wayne Group's technology cannot guarantee that hundred-meter-high bridges will stand without structural support from buildings."

"If I could just make bridges float in midair, why would I bother renovating buildings? Do I have so much money I'm burning it?"

Bruce realized that Schiller's method of speaking—equally hating everyone—was incredibly effective. A madman could say anything without caring about anyone's face.

"I'm not giving people housing out of kindness—I'm doing it because if I renovate the buildings, they must be occupied. Only with residents will there be consumption; only with consumption will there be commerce; only with commerce will there be profit…"

Bruce Wayne crossed his arms: "Viewing those people as expendable is short-sighted. Only when the lower class keeps working can they generate endless profits for us. If they disappear, are you going to drive the trucks yourselves? Become laborers?"

"Admit it: those beggars you look down on are the foundation of this city. To make them work better, you must give them housing. If you drive them all out, no one will benefit."

The leaders of the Twelve Families exchanged glances. One cleared his throat and said: "If that's the case, you should've informed us in advance, to avoid trouble from below…"

"I'm not worried about trouble," Bruce tapped the table. "I've installed defense systems on every building. The gang members you mentioned? They were probably hit by them. Wayne Group's assets are my personal property—private property is sacred and inviolable. Anyone who tries to steal from or sabotage my construction site will face my right to defend it."

Bruce paused, as if realizing he hadn't fully mastered Schiller's approach. One gang leader spoke: "You can't do this. You must follow the rules here. If you want to fight that gang, you must…"

"Fine, fine—I'll fight that gang, then that gang, then the next. You wait. In ten years, I'll spend nine years chasing thieves, six months fighting gangs, and six months rushing the bridges—then they collapse within half a year of opening. You fix them yourselves."

The other gang leaders were speechless at his brazenness, yet despite his aggression, what he said made sense.

No one knew better than these gang bosses what their men were like. Even a dung cart passing their door had to be tasted with a finger to check the saltiness.

If those gangs harassed Wayne Group's construction, they'd have to provide guards—or the bridges wouldn't get built. Everyone would still be stuck.

But if they provided guards, they'd anger their own men, who'd see them as siding with outsiders, unfair.

Now, the Wayne family had willingly taken the role of villain. So the Twelve Families could simply pretend they knew nothing.

The Wayne family legally partnered with the government, spent massive funds to buy land, poured countless labor into building bridges—and the ultimate beneficiaries were the gangs, especially the Twelve Families, since they had the most industries and highest transport demands.

If that's the case, why not let him build? It's just elevated highways—not nuclear weapons. He couldn't threaten the gangs with a single bridge.

After Bruce deliberately obscured the real focus, all the gang leaders turned their attention to the elevated highway plans.

It wasn't surprising—Wayne's three-dimensional transport system was genuinely novel and captivating. Compared to it, the building renovations, similar to Hell's Gate, had no standout appeal.

At worst, there'd be a few more Hell's Gates, the Twelve Families thought. Hell's Gate hadn't caused trouble—just higher rents, better security, fewer problems, and more income. More areas like that? No harm done.

Thus, the meeting ended amicably. The Twelve Families' leaders promised: "I'll handle those troublemakers on Elizabeth Street. Go ahead and build your bridges—hurry up, get them operational. Good for you, good for us, good for all."

Bruce realized the anesthetic had taken effect—he accelerated construction. Before Phase One was finished, Phase Two was already preparing its foundation. Materials for the elevated highway connecting Phase One and Two were already in production.

In fact, the technologies involved in the building renovations were leftovers from the Batcave.

These weren't ideas he'd hastily invented in a day or two. Many problems had already been solved during the Batcave's construction. The chip authentication system, in fact, was originally meant by Batman to secure the Batcave later.

If he were alone, he wouldn't need authentication—but since he'd adopted Dick and Aisha, they'd inevitably come and go from the Batcave. An authentication system would make their access easier.

This system could also enforce housing allocation, preventing excessive occupation of housing resources, and lay groundwork for a future permission system. So Bruce modified it and integrated it into the buildings.

Everything progressed smoothly. Gotham began massive construction. But soon, Bruce encountered another problem.

He discovered he was out of money.

It was a terrifying reality—but also perfectly logical. Though Wayne Group was enormous, most of its capital was tied up in production; liquid funds were scarce.

This wasn't just one or two sites under construction. Combined, Phase One, Phase Two, and the elevated highway projects meant over 130 sites operating simultaneously. Even America's largest real estate developer rarely launched so many projects at once.

Wayne Group had a professional engineering team, but they weren't professional real estate developers. Even though many materials were obtained through barter and technology carried no extra cost, labor and consumables alone had drained Bruce's nearly all liquid capital.

This was a dangerous signal. Bruce knew: once a company loses too much liquidity, its risk resistance drops, its margin for error vanishes, and its strategy turns conservative. Left unchecked, assets would shrink, creating a vicious cycle.

Bruce realized the projects he'd started accounted for less than one percent of Gotham's total renovation efforts.

He knew he had to find a way to make money—now.

And then he realized: as Schiller said, living in high society wasn't any simpler than living in the slums. For a corporation like Wayne Group, taking the next step was as hard as climbing to the moon.

Make money. Make money. Make money…

Bruce had never imagined he'd one day be tormented by money troubles.

Perhaps this was karma—not that it wouldn't come, but that the hour had not yet arrived.