Chapter 850

Savage's plan to radiate the Living Hell's influence across the East District and eventually conquer Gotham had been a rollercoaster.

After nearly ruling the Living Hell, he began expanding his territory, aiming to extend his influence throughout the entire Greater Living Hell region—but at this step, he encountered unprecedented difficulties.

The surrounding major crime families seemed to have eyes in the back of their heads; any move Savage made, they detected immediately.

And they were extremely treacherous, constantly tricking and ambushing him: all his delivery trucks were intercepted, all his informants were kidnapped, even arms dealers got robbed on the road.

By this point, Savage had already poured in millions of dollars, and he now had a solid foothold—he could not possibly abandon it.

No delivery trucks? Hire them at premium prices. Recruit personnel at premium rates. Buy weapons at premium costs. Spend premium money to build a logistics and security system.

Intelligence agents sent out never returned? Recruit inside the Living Hell at premium prices, or pay off newspaper boys from outside.

Arms dealers couldn't get in? Pay premium fees to intermediaries. For Savage, any problem that could be solved with money wasn't a problem.

After throwing in even more money, Savage discovered there was indeed progress—he once again expanded his operational range, nearly bringing the entire surrounding area of the Living Hell under his control.

Thus, as long as he spent money, progress followed; but whenever funding dried up, progress halted. After several cycles, Savage found he had grown numb to the amounts he was spending.

In simple terms, he had been conditioned.

At first, facing Batman's military threat, he stepped back, deciding to temporarily retreat for greater gains, so he planned to switch hotels.

But facing the hotel, he stepped back again; arriving in the East District, he tried to rent a house—and in the process, facing the gangs guarding the Living Hell, he stepped back once more, then kept stepping back, again and again.

Throughout this process, he was not unaware of what he was losing—for instance, when the first newspaper boy approached him demanding high prices for newspapers and milk, he knew he was being ripped off.

But he mentally calculated his business's gains and losses as if they were real: though he gained nothing tangible, his mind told him his plan had advanced one step.

This "advance" was virtual, an illusion—he had already paid money before achieving any real progress, and this was the first step of conditioning.

Then this conditioning repeated: each time, money was spent before any real progress was made; only afterward did minor gains appear—but these gains differed greatly from his mental expectations, often far smaller.

First imagine, then spend money on the imagined vision, then accept the reality that falls short of imagination—repeat this process many times, and a perfect thought pattern becomes conditioned.

That is: spending money on impossible fantasies is the same as spending money on myself; since I'm spending on myself, it's always a guaranteed profit.

And when the gap between imagination and reality becomes too wide, and the final reality fails to meet expectations, it breeds anxiety.

For example, after taking control of all the gangs in the Living Hell, Savage realized the situation was far from ideal—it couldn't provide the massive boost he had imagined for his grand enterprise.

But upon discovering this truth, he wouldn't quit—he'd dive deeper into the pit, refusing to leave no matter who tried to persuade him.

On one hand, it was sunk cost; on the other, his thought process had been conditioned into a single-track mindset.

Repeatedly recalling his plan, spending money on it, then accepting outcomes far worse than imagined—he had become fully accustomed to it all.

Originally, money spent and actual returns should be balanced—but once imagination is mixed in, people find excuses to convince themselves even when they're not balanced.

Savage had poured out enormous sums; had he invested that money in a slightly weaker East Coast city than Gotham, he might already rule the entire city—but add his fantasy of ruling all of Gotham, and he'd feel his current spending was worth it.

Investment, return, imagination—like three young people entangled in a complex triangle, each seeing the others as the third party.

Whether investment yields return, whether investment aligns with imagination, whether return satisfies imagination—these represent three different value judgments; if someone manipulates just one link, they can distort values, blur gains and losses, and achieve deception.

When conditioning reached its final stage, Savage felt no loss—he could only perceive how much he had spent, how much he got back, and how far it fell short of his imagination—so he instinctively wanted to pour more in.

In plain terms, this was a pig butchering scam orchestrated by the entire city of Gotham against Savage.

In the end of every pig butchering scam, victims instinctively pour in massive funds—even their closest relatives can't stop them—because their behavior and thought patterns have been conditioned into rigid habits.

Spend money, get a little return; don't spend, get nothing—not even your principal or emotional investment remains. Savage had no choice; he only wanted to keep going until he turned things around.

His liquid funds were exhausted, so he began selling his collectibles—first, items with little collector value, like modern and contemporary artifacts and artworks.

Strangely, while logistics trucks and arms dealers couldn't get in, antique dealers always could—and the new ones were all sharp-tongued, offering half-price bids with zero room for negotiation: sell or don't sell, your choice.

Savage tried to pick the highest bidder, but he found the later the dealer arrived, the lower the offer—while the earliest dealers still showed some sincerity, though they slashed prices hard, they claimed they'd buy in bulk.

Eventually, Savage partnered with several antique dealers who helped him sell his artworks and collectibles for cash.

After selling a batch of collectibles and gaining some liquid funds, Savage decided he should first build a sustainable base—start developing commerce within the Living Hell.

Next came the usual routine: spend money to build shops, expand transportation routes, reduce warehouses and transfer points, hire staff to open businesses, implement policies to concentrate people here—Savage even introduced rent subsidies and exemptions to boost local vitality.

Many know that the most profitable criminal enterprise isn't collecting protection money on the spot—it's smuggling. Smuggling has low costs and high returns; aside from being dangerous, it has almost no drawbacks.

Savage had no smuggling channels; relying solely on local industry meant he had to spend massive sums like a legitimate business to build a commercial district.

The Living Hell had extremely high population density; fully developing its commerce meant money flowed out like water.

Savage's personal wealth was substantial; after selling off the less impressive collectibles, he pulled out some rare pieces to attract antique dealers.

Savage had hoped they'd bid against each other—but unexpectedly, the dealers acted in unison, collectively slashing prices: you low, I'm lower, completely indifferent to whether Savage sold or not.

Savage realized something was off—sure, the mediocre collectibles might not fetch high prices, but many of his items were masterworks by renowned artists.

Among them were many original paintings by famous artists—works so rare that even one appearing on the market would cause global sensation—but these dealers acted as if blind, sticking rigidly to their low offers.

Savage had considered other options—such as taking them to legitimate art companies for auction—but that would take too long: authentication, promotion, auction—minimum one year, sometimes several—only suitable for the wealthy who didn't need cash quickly.

Of course, he could directly contact wealthy private buyers—but no one vouched for him; private buyers couldn't verify the authenticity of the pieces.

Could he tell them, "I've lived fifty thousand years; I picked these up casually at Michelangelo's sculpture site"? Even if he said it, they'd think he was insane.

But going through authentication was the same process as using art companies—wanting to sell quickly meant accepting low prices. The antique dealers repeatedly drilled this idea into Savage, and eventually, he had no choice but to sell his collection at a low price.

The buyers of these collectibles were the heads of the Twelve Families.

"I don't understand, Professor—why let the heads of the Twelve Families acquire these collectibles at such low prices?"

In his office, Alberto asked Schiller, who stood before the whiteboard; to his left sat Bruce, to his right sat Victor and Cobblepot.

Schiller tapped the whiteboard with his pen: "What do you think the Twelve Families want with these items?"

"Hmm…" Alberto thought for a moment. "The Falcone family bought some too. We mainly want to keep them for our own collection—we know that compared to many ancient families, we lack depth, and these genuine artworks hold value no matter the era, as long as human civilization endures."

"But…" Alberto shifted tone. "From what I know, many of the Twelve Families plan to resell them at high prices later—after all, the art investment market has been decent these past two years, and might even heat up further. Buying these treasures now at low prices means easy profits later."

Schiller nodded. "Either way, I assume they won't sell them anytime soon, correct?"

Alberto nodded. "Of course. I plan to keep mine. The patriarchs of the Twelve Families will likely keep the most valuable pieces for themselves. Even if they sell, they'll use auction houses and complete the full process—at least a year or two."

Schiller smiled. "That's enough."

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked. "Why must the Twelve Families buy these collectibles?"

"What's the source of your current cash shortage?" Schiller asked.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Source of what?"

"You're not short on money—you're short on time," Schiller tapped the board again. "Your strategy is to finish everything before the gangs react, avoiding violent resistance—so you need massive short-term investment, which drained your liquid funds."

"I have to do this," Bruce said. "If I delay too long, once they realize what's happening, they'll unite and resist violently—then the whole city will be dragged into war."

"But what if they willingly delay things, giving you time to earn money?"

"How would they willingly delay?" Bruce thought. "The heads of the Twelve Families aren't fools. Once they realize these reforms are undermining their foundations, they'll react immediately."

"But your attitude matters now," Schiller looked at Bruce. "It seems you didn't pay attention in behavioral psychology class."

"Their reaction depends on what they think you intend to do—and what they think you intend to do depends on how you behave."