26. Gotham: The Barrel
34.
Although you can often see vigilantes dressed in "unique" clothes in Gotham at night, you still need a bit of luck to see people in strange costumes during the day.
The old man's desire for control has been strong for a long time, and monitoring technology has been improving day by day. Jason has found more than once that those he fights have started to have sesame-sized positioning devices hanging on their bodies. In order to prevent these unfortunate things from exposing his whereabouts, he often "conveniently" destroys the positioning devices during the battle - which also causes some trouble for Batman.
But this was not the main reason why the other party caught his attention.
The reason why Red Hood was able to see the woman at first sight even though she was sitting in a secluded corner of the bar was entirely because of her dressing style.
——As soon as he pushed the door open, a pair of shiny purple shorts caught everyone's eyes like a disco ball. Even the bartender who was used to seeing all kinds of mercenaries with Mohawks lowered his head silently, as if he suddenly became interested in the wine glass he was wiping in his hand.
Those shorts were the epitome of all the color design flaws, but the person wearing them was completely unaware of it. With the gullible nature of a foreigner, he inquired about Black Mask's whereabouts in front of more than a dozen pairs of eyes, both openly and covertly.
To be honest, there are many people in Gotham's underworld with questionable tastes. Black Mask dresses like a B/D/S/M player, Mr. Freeze with a hood looks like a snowy crystal ball that will never be sold in a gift shop, and the Riddler has a close relationship with the Celtic green elves - but those costumes would not be so eye-catching among the Gotham villains who are all weird in appearance, or in this bar - iconic costumes are often linked to strength, and those here today are all small fry who cannot withstand the anger of any of the above.
But the idle mercenaries were much bolder towards this outsider who neither seemed powerful nor mentally unstable. Based on past experience, they were now using verbal provocation, but once the outsider left the bar, there was a high probability of a siege.
Half as a reminder and half as a warning, Red Hood walked out from the corner and sat next to her, playing a little game with her using Black Mask's information as a bet.
If he wins, the other party won't dare to provoke him again. If he loses, Red Hood will step in and settle the matter. And forget about Black Mask. With that kind of fighting power, go home and sleep early. Maybe you can even punch him in the face a few more times in your dreams.
After hearing his words, the foreign woman's eyes suddenly lit up like stars, and she jumped off the seat in the eye-catching purple shorts and walked straight towards her target.
Under normal circumstances, those idle mercenaries might have chosen to keep quiet because of the opponent's momentum, but perhaps it was the relaxed atmosphere created by today's lucky purple shorts. Not only did they not feel intimidated at all, but they laughed even harder.
"What are you wearing? Hahahahaha?" One of them pointed at Aria's pants and asked knowingly, laughing so hard that his Mohawk looked like a swaying sail. "When did Gotham's aesthetic become so advanced..."
The farmer was never willing to waste time on anyone who didn't appreciate the purple lucky pants. If she hadn't wanted to cause some trouble for Black Mask today and see if she could attack an NPC without a health bar, she wouldn't have bothered to explain.
"I don't blame you for not understanding," the farmer shook his head gently, revealing the compassion he would have when he was about to send someone to the afterlife. "This is the same model as the current mayor's. It's a symbol of luck and wisdom."
Their heads were filled with alcohol, and the mercenaries were still grinning foolishly. Aria suddenly made a move, and like making hamburgers, she put her hands on the shoulders of two people on the left and right, pressing the three people together.
When the mercenaries realized something was wrong and wanted to resist, they found that the woman was incredibly strong. Her shoulders seemed to have been pierced by the claws of a female eagle. The more they moved, the more crackling sounds like bones snapping. Under her pressure, their heads were pressed against each other, like a three-headed mushroom just emerging from the ground.
"Gentlemen," Aria said, her toothy smile brighter than the little girl picking mushrooms, gleaming eerily under the deliberately dim lights of the bar, "Would you like to hear some other music?"
The mercenaries who loved to watch the fun sitting in other corners applauded in groups of three or four. If there was a lighting dispatcher here, they would probably ask for a beam of stage lights to shine on each other.
"Play a song, Lao Sa!" someone demanded at the top of his voice. "Give this girl some music!"
The bartender called Lao Sa raised his eyelids, reached out and casually moved the pointer on the record player, and melodious music flowed out of the machine.
The song playing was the classic saxophone song "Going Home".
The saxophone is present throughout, and the farmer decided to use what he had to give the piece a bit of realistic percussion.
She loosened the shackles, and before the three mushrooms separated from each other, she took out the milking bucket from the equipment bar and put it on the heads of the three people.
Having learned from the previous lesson, Aria didn't make any unnecessary movements towards the milking bucket. The ruthless farmer took out a pitchfork and turned into a crackling drummer, hitting the rather sturdy bucket like hitting a drumhead.
Boom!
Originally, if only one of them relaxed a little, they could get out of the milking bucket first. However, after being hit like this, the three mercenaries with buzzing heads all wanted to get out first to escape the concussion. As a result, they were all stuck at the mouth of the bucket and no one could move.
The music expresses a rather lingering and sad emotion; the farmer uses percussion sounds to mark the endings, even creating a buzzing vibration with a metallic timbre.
Red Hood felt a phantom pain in his head. He glanced at Old Sa, who was still cleaning the wine glass, and whispered, "Does the bar allow private performances now?"
Old Sa always looked sleepy and spoke in a sarcastic tone: "Fighting is not allowed here. How many people listen to this rule?"
"Last time, Deathstroke destroyed my entire cabinet of wine. Do you think I dare to fart?" He put down the brandy glass and picked up the tumbler again: "...Anyway, just give me money and compensation."
The Red Hood pinned Franklin Zhang under the wine glass, and the performance had just ended. The milking pail was removed, and the three men collapsed on the table, foaming at the mouth, though not dead.
Despite the opponent's foul language, Aria had no intention of killing him. After confirming that he could still fight even without a health bar, the farmer was pleasantly surprised by the game's high degree of freedom.
She put away her milking pail and pitchfork, looked at the red bucket, and happily announced:
“I did it!”
"Did the other party admit it?"
"Um?"
Red Bucket walked over to her and took the wooden barn they had brought with them, "No, I mean, pack up your things, we're leaving."
...Holding the bucket and the pitchfork didn't look like they were going to cause trouble for Black Mask. It seemed like the two of them had to go back to the fields to work as soon as they left the bar. Telling anyone about it would be embarrassing for Red Hood.
But before that, Red Hood patted the other person's shoulder at the door of the bar, took the locator off her body like flicking away a fly, and crushed it with his fingertips.
He has to avoid the "trouble" that Batman might bring.
…
On the motorcycle, Jason Todd learned the other party's basic information almost completely passively - does she really own a piece of land?
The farmer, completely insecure, stretched out his arms on the back of his motorcycle, feeling the wind rushing through his fingertips. "Yes! I also have a black horse, her name is Libao, and she runs almost as fast as your motorcycle!"
"Are you speeding up now?"
"No." Jason remained calm. "She always moves at this speed. She was just warming up."
"Oh." Aria nodded, looking very convinced. "Then this startup speed does have a lot of room for improvement."
“…”
The motorcycle chat was about to come to an end when Red Hood turned the next corner, successfully changing the subject: "So why are you looking for trouble with Black Mask?"
After all, it sounded like a farmer and a criminal empire had nothing in common. Unless she was growing illegal crops on the farm, he really couldn't think of any reason why the two were connected.
"It's for my friends." Although he was told lies as soon as he opened his mouth, the farmer still explained the whole story to him in order to ensure the smooth implementation of the plan.
Jason guessed that the reason this kind of person could survive in Gotham until now was most likely because of his decent skills - otherwise, with his personality of answering whatever was asked, he would have been betrayed by others long ago and nothing would be left of him.
He even learned from the chatter that the reason the farmer could carry a bucket and a pitchfork with her was because she had a spatial ability that allowed her to carry farm tools with her at all times and use them as weapons when necessary.
...Another guy who can suddenly pull out all sorts of things from his body. Gotham is as lacking in imagination as ever.
"Don't underestimate my backpack! It's very convenient. I used to carry my watering can in it before automatic sprinklers. It also makes harvesting crops very quick. I can harvest almost all the different types of plants at once."
"So, you have this superpower..." Jason tried to summarize, "but you use it for farming?"
"Yeah." Although it's not a superpower, this explanation is acceptable.
That's good. Everyone has their own dreams and their lives are wonderful. He doesn't envy them.
...maybe a little.
Perhaps it was because literary works portrayed pastoral life too beautifully. After listening to the chatter of this farmer with poor taste in clothes, Red Hood thought of the several pots of flowers he grew on the balcony.
I'll go to the flower market after I finish my mission this week. Maybe I can find something I like.
…
Black Mask couldn't be seen today - according to the intelligence he had, after failing to interfere in the mayoral election and allowing someone with seemingly no political background to take office, he cautiously fled to his overseas criminal empire for several months.
However, he knew that Roman had been remotely controlling his career during this period. If this mayor was truly mediocre and refused to accept any benefits, Black Mask would definitely use some special means to replace him early - just like he had done with some previous mayors.
What they were going to rob this time was a batch of weapons that Black Mask had ordered to be secretly shipped from overseas to Gotham.
"Do you know any way to make Black Mask disappear completely?" Aria in the back seat was still worried, not knowing that the senior in the front seat had been thinking about this problem for a long time.
"It's simple," they said, as they drove out of the main city and parked on higher ground in the suburbs. It was a fish-mouth-shaped protrusion, and through the tangled, untended bushes, they could see a main road into the city. "Just kill him."
"So simple?"
The man never took off the red bucket on his head, but when he tilted his head slightly, she could feel his burning gaze: "Yes, it's that simple."
"But as long as there's someone around, I'm afraid you'll never be able to achieve it."
Aria was about to say something when Red Hood turned his head away. A cheetah suddenly tensed up and entered hunting mode: "Sh ...
He said, "Black Mask's transport is coming."
…
An ordinary bomb requires four iron ores and one piece of coal, while a super bomb requires four gold ores, one sun essence, and one void essence to synthesize.
So after he and Red Hood knocked out the driver and the mercenary and completely took over the vehicle, when he pulled down the heavy tarpaulin, Aria naturally drooled at the neatly loaded explosives.
"Hold it, hold it, hold it, don't let it drip on you." The Red Hood put the veil back on and said in the cruelest voice in the world, "Do you think I'll let you take so much explosives and parade them around Gotham?"
"I contributed, too!" Faced with her companions' suspicions of betrayal and a desire to keep all the treasure for themselves, Aria argued for her own bright future in mining: "Even if it can't be 50-50, at least 46 or 37!"
Thinking back to the time before the bomb formula was invented, when he dug out the ore with his pickaxe, the farmer evoked real emotion: "You have no idea how hard it was to go down into the mine without explosives. No amount of stairs could heal the wounds in my heart..."
"Wait," Red Hood slowly asked, "Are you planning to use this to mine?" What kind of farm is this?
"Yeah," Aria pulled at the tarpaulin, looking eagerly at the uniformly shaped and identical explosives inside. It looked like one grid could hold 99 of them. "What else could they be used for?"
"Uh...like filling the ground somewhere with bombs and killing the mayor?"
"I'm working part-time as the mayor's bodyguard now. How could I possibly use this to blow him up!" Except for making fun of him sometimes, the farmer is very supportive of Lewis at other times.
"Are you the mayor's bodyguard?" Red Hood laughed. Because of the mask, the laughter was muffled, but he did sound in a good mood. "Well, you can take 30%."
"By the way, your purple pants look very nice and tasteful." He gave a thumbs up. "They will go perfectly with the party Wayne is hosting tonight."
————————
Update is here! Sorry for the long wait (bow
Aria: I’m glad you also like the purple lucky pants and have your own opinion
By the way, I've asked Xiao A to put a picture of him in the character design. I think it's quite cute. (The Lion King holding Simba.jpg) Thanks to the little angels who voted for me or irrigated me with nutrient solution between 2024-07-13 23:59:42 and 2024-07-15 23:25:24~
Thanks to the little angels who cast mines: Dundunya, Longlonglong, and Ximen Zhouzhou1;
Thanks to the little angels who irrigated the nutrient solution: Su Mu 10 bottles; Hua Ting Li 6 bottles; A Pu 5 bottles; Chao Xiang Chi Fried Chicken 1 bottle;
Thank you very much for your support. I will continue to work hard!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
