Day 4 of customs clearance

Amidst the interplay of light and shadow, a black-haired youth in a brown leather jacket twirled a gun. His tactical gloves were stained with blood and gunpowder. Within a five-meter radius of the youth, no one else stood. His imposing figure was etched into the retinas of everyone present.

Another madman, locally produced.

The guests had a strange thought: the black-haired youth's temperament was indescribable, always accompanied by chaos and madness, much like someone driven insane by Gotham.

Gotham is a breeding ground for madmen, and the epitome of madness is Arkham.

Identifying Arkham Reserves is one of Gotham's survival skills, even if the young man hasn't spoken and still looks young.

In the eyes of discerning people, it was only a matter of time before the young man joined Arkham.

The patrons further away in the bar whispered amongst themselves, their buzzing like annoying flies. Already irritated, Jason impatiently fired a shot at the ceiling. The angle was clever; he shattered the chandelier but didn't completely destroy the main crystal structure. Crystal shards fell to the ground like a rain of light, hitting the crowd below and turning their heads red. Gasps and groans filled the air.

This is a warning.

Jason was satisfied once the crowd had completely fallen silent.

The guests were all worldly people. After a gasp of surprise, they skillfully covered their mouths, found something to hide behind, and squatted down with their heads in their hands. What did it matter if they were injured? In the current situation, losing an arm or a leg didn't matter.

Some prayed that the black-haired youth would ignore them and spare their lives, while others regretted going out that night.

He shouldn't have let the craving for alcohol tempt him to sneak into a bar for fun while he was sleeping; he shouldn't have been tempted by small gains to make deals in bars. Now he's really caught in a dilemma.

Those who hid all shared the same thought at this moment—deep regret, for there is no going back in life.

After being warned, the bar seemed to be staging a silent play, with the owner remaining silent and the actors even more afraid to utter a sound.

The silence was soon broken.

"Huh? Am I that scary? Someone was talking just now, why are they not talking now? You, you, you..." The cold muzzle of the gun swept across the crowd in the middle, and the person pointed at leaned back in terror.

“Old York, why aren’t you saying anything? Is this how you said you’d obey me? Ha,” Jason sneered, grinding his hand into the tattooed man’s chest. “Or are you hiding something and trying to stall for time?”

Old York spat out a mouthful of blood. "How could that be? Of course I listen to the boss."

He wouldn't listen to a mere brat's threats. Trying to use him to establish his authority without even considering whether he'd live to enjoy it. Old York's eyes were filled with malice.

Jason was nonchalant. "It's fine if you stall for time. I have plenty of time. We can solve it all at once."

"Those are your people? They don't look very good."

Jason spotted the thugs mixed in with the crowd at a glance and said rudely, "Come on, let's finish this quickly. You don't deserve my time."

Old York's eyes suddenly changed. "Ha, the penguin boss will avenge me, you're dead, you little brat!" As he spoke, he was kicked against the wall, spitting out two mouthfuls of blood. His arrogant laughter, now supported, came to an abrupt halt.

Jason noticed the dozens of thugs who had suddenly appeared. He hadn't been careful enough about the hidden door, but in the face of absolute force, everything else was meaningless. "Then we'll wait and see."

After saying that, Jason rushed into the group of thugs like a wolf among sheep. He first used them to fire the first shot that would allow him to take over Gotham's underground forces.

Even the most ruthless gang members in the Lower East Side couldn't withstand more than three moves from him. One shot was enough to take them down, and when the bullets ran out, he used knives and limbs. Blood and severed limbs were scattered all over the ground. Old York looked at Jason as if he were seeing Satan himself.

It's over.

Old York thought to himself, "It's all over."

Where did this devil come from?

Old York collapsed and crawled backward.

The guests who had hidden themselves wisely shrank smaller and smaller. If they ran out, they might be mistaken for accomplices and eliminated. It was better to be like turtles, crawling on their knees. They didn't think they could fight the black-haired youth.

If you accidentally get caught up in a mixed battle, prioritize your own life. Trying to escape while things are in disarray or playing the victim are both viable options. However, if one side's strength is overwhelmingly dominant, you might as well pray to God.

Just by listening to the sound of the gun, they could tell it wasn't a fake.

Most of the people in the room had some black hands, and their tools of the trade were related to weapons. Although the model of the gun could not be accurately identified by the fleeting sound of it, it was definitely a darling of the dollar on the black market, and you couldn't buy it without considerable financial strength.

They could clearly see the black-haired youth's waist and knees during the fight. He was well-equipped with weapons and incredibly agile. Would it take him more than three minutes to kill dozens of thugs? Probably not.

Some people counted it to be between two and two and a half minutes. Those who had fought the thugs lying on the ground knew their strength; the black-haired youth was terrifyingly strong, probably only Batman could handle him...

They had already made a judgment about the only young man standing there: if he could survive the night, he would definitely try to avoid this killer if he encountered him.

To sum it all up in one sentence: if you encounter a killer at night, immediately kneel down in a humiliating retreat; if you're stubborn, you'll end up headless.

The survivors glanced at the black-haired youth, then immediately lowered their still-valuable heads, dying quickly and tragically.

Adrian blended seamlessly into the crowd of survivors, killing one another without any censorship – truly befitting an 18+ rating.

He lowered his eyes to study the game interface. The system interface after triggering the plot mission seemed to have been upgraded. The gray interface returned to its original color, and prompts with no extra information popped up all at once.

...It's a bit hard to judge.

[Main Story: City Within a City | Arkham City]

(When justice and evil are out of balance, people choose to shut out the darkness and vainly pursue the light of tomorrow, but tomorrow never comes.)

Main Quest: Your perspective is determined by your position. To better complete the game, please choose to join one faction. The winner takes all.

Factions: Arkham Knights (Activated) (Expanded), Joker's Crew (Not Triggered), Batman (Not Triggered)

Note: Insufficient conditions for activation.

[Reward: Random Character Fragment x1]

[Game Progress: 0]

Adrian stubbornly continued poking downwards. What was the point? Was he trying to teach him a lesson?!

As expected, the game company wouldn't be so kind as to unblock the game system all at once.

Adrian started messing with customer service; he wanted human customer service, not the automated system that just gives irrelevant answers when you tap on it.

After dealing with the thugs, Jason once again pinned down Old York, who was trying to escape. He was no longer going to entangle with Old York.

“Old York, I don’t care who you’re with, tell Batman that the Arkham Knight sends his regards.”

Jason finished speaking, his sinister eyes flashing a half-smile. "The Penguin's subordinate? Clearly, he's an informant who has abandoned the darkness and turned to Batman."

Capturing him is tantamount to provoking Batman. He's done so much; Batman can't just ignore it, can he? For someone with such a strong desire for control, he's a ticking time bomb.

Jason thought about what he had discovered: Batman must have his eye on the Penguin. It would be strange if Batman hadn't noticed him, given his involvement. Jason suddenly felt excited; what a wonderful thing it would be to fight Batman.

Old York saw the unknown youth's increasingly dangerous and crazed expression, gritted his jaw, and said, "Of course," but whether you'll be alive next time is another matter.

Old York swallowed the words he hadn't said. A wise man doesn't fight a losing battle; he had never suffered such a great loss before!

The unexpected event came and went quickly; the black-haired youth swaggered out of the bar, and no one dared to stop him.

Stepping from darkness into light in front of the bar, Adrian finally saw the dark-haired youth's profile clearly; it was a "J" shape.

*

After leaving the bar, Adrian found a bridge hole and lay down to pretend to be dead. There was basically no solution for finding accommodation. Most of the money he got from the two hateful NPCs had been spent on the bar, and the little left was only enough to maintain a basic standard of living. Moreover, he had to find a job by the day after tomorrow at the latest, otherwise he would be in a situation where he couldn't even afford a baguette.

Are other players as unlucky as him? Probably not. Adrian logged onto the game's forums, but found virtually no useful information on his first day.

After finishing the game, Adrian became even more withdrawn. Eating, drinking, and having fun? Amazing scenery? A player sleeping under a bridge creeked out with a jealous voice.

Emotions are most likely to occur when you're alone late at night. Even God might not be able to bear it. The human customer service I've been waiting for for so long is finally online!

"Hello, esteemed Observer 053, how can I help you?"

"I want to complain! I want to complain!" Adrian jumped up immediately, complaining about the trash game first.

"...This is outside the scope of my work. Is there anything else I can do to help you?"

The customer service representative felt awkward, as complaining about games wasn't within their scope of responsibility, and it was putting a heavy burden on them.

Adrian said quietly, "Such a big game doesn't even have a tutorial. What are you game companies trying to do?" He had wanted to ask this for a long time. What kind of trouble were you game companies causing? He finished speaking with unusual sadness, "They don't even provide players with the most basic living necessities. They want me to starve to death and return to the starting point. Quests must trigger story characters, otherwise the system interface is just for show. Once it's just for show, you can't advance in the game. What good does it do you if I'm trapped in the game and can't continue playing?"

As he spoke, his tone became completely flat. Adrian didn't understand. He needed others to understand his frustration at being completely confused about the game. Isn't a game meant to be played? What's the point of making things difficult for players?

After hearing this, the customer service representative blurted out, "So you're the one who drew the unique identity?"

The customer service representative was shocked, knowing that there was only one ID card available for the poorest and most unremarkable individuals, and it was rumored to have hidden dangers...

When bad luck is meant to happen, there's no stopping it.

The customer service representative convinced himself.

That's so unlucky.

Adrian: ?

"Unique identity, to be clear, you don't want me to lower your rating in the final evaluation, do you?"

Threatened customer service representative: ...

"Please play the game rationally and do not threaten the staff," the customer service representative said gently. He had learned something new again, but he still answered Adrian's questions honestly.

"The unique identity is a game easter egg setting, mainly for testing the game's fun factor. There will be dedicated customer service to explain it when the system store opens," implying that he shouldn't ask him, as he didn't know.

Adrian seemed to be deep in thought. The human customer service was no longer useful, and the more he asked, the more he felt there was something wrong with the game.

"Where is the system store? I can't see it," Adrian pressed every button on the system interface, but to no avail.

"The system shop requires you to activate the main storyline and unlock character cards."

"All three cards must be lit up, not just one?"

"no."

“Alright, let’s end it here,” Adrian lay back down on the cardboard, considering whether to start over. He had plenty of opportunities to restart the mission early on.

The customer service representative was silent for a while; I've never seen anything like this that's used and then discarded. But he still went offline. Hopefully, there won't be another conversation.

"...Enjoy your game."