45. Gotham: Nursery Rhymes
53.
Aria didn't realize that Bruce Wayne was trying to trick her. To her, nothing about Mayor Lewis seemed to be a secret - in fact, apart from the events related to Junimo and Shadowman, the game did not require players to keep any secrets.
The farmer then revealed part of the truth: "It's just my guess."
"We've been attacked before."
Aria recalled her bitter defeat at the dinner table and wrinkled her nose slightly. "...My situation isn't very good, but the mayor seems completely unaffected, so I have a guess."
"--Perhaps Lewis also fought with them and successfully fought off that group of people with his good skills."
"I thought you were very familiar with the mayor?" Selina's wig swayed slightly under the influence of the central air conditioning, like a cat's tail raised out of curiosity: "After all, he hired you as a bodyguard." Not trusting the security sent by the Gotham government and hiring other candidates is ironclad evidence that the other party is a confidant in the eyes of any mayor.
This was exactly the answer Wayne wanted to know. He assumed that regardless of who was in control, Aria or the new mayor, they were both clearly aligned in the eyes of outsiders. Bringing this information to a third party was unclear, perhaps to hype up the mayor's abilities or to demystify him.
"We have a pretty good relationship." After all, it was because of Shixin and Lewis. Aria was still very confident in her friendship with Lewis: "Everyone has secrets that are unknown to others. This should be normal, right?"
The farmer smiled as he accepted another dessert from the waiter and teased Lewis, who wasn't there, "Maybe Lewis has a double life, sneaking out at night to beat up tax thieves." Just imagine a man in purple shorts wandering around Zuzu City, doing good deeds—it sounds particularly appealing. If Lewis hadn't claimed the idea, Aria would have been tempted.
The three people who truly possessed dual identities all had odd expressions beneath their social masks. Knowing that Aria and the remaining two knew nothing about their true identities was one thing, but hearing it from her mouth, he still vaguely felt that they were being implied.
...It's an illusion, it must be an illusion.
"If possible, we'd better strengthen the mayor's security for the next few days and prevent Mayor Lewis from taking such risks." Lincoln March cut a juicy lamb chop neatly, but his eyes, as gentle as a herbivore's, looked at Aria. "Gotham is full of unpredictable dangers. Even I've heard too many bizarre rumors lately."
He tried to induce Aria to mention to Wayne the details of the attack that day, so that the story could be led to the court in a natural way. Originally, the prologue would have begun after the mayor was pushed into the pool by the claws and drowned and his body was thrown into the pool. Now that the script was forcibly tampered with, Lincoln March was naturally a little angry.
It was quite dangerous, Aria agreed. Zuzu City was different from Stardew Valley. In Stardew Valley, you could be safe once you left the monster zone, but in Zuzu City, you could be attacked by monsters from nowhere even on the street. But she also enjoyed challenging difficult situations.
"Have you been in Gotham long?" Bruce Wayne, of course. Aria heard people talking about this Gotham prince wherever she went; he was definitely a local. If Lincoln March was also a native of Gotham, perhaps their information could be shared and they could uncover some secrets about the Owl Man.
Lincoln smiled widely. He wiped the juice from the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief, put his other hand together, and motioned the farmer to look at the other person across the table: "When it comes to understanding Gotham, I may not be as good as Mr. Wayne." After all, he truly "owns" half of Gotham alone.
Bruce Wayne curled his lips and didn't buy the praise: "If you ask me if I love Gotham, my answer is of course 'love' - but love does not mean understanding."
He smiled frivolously. "I know all the places to visit here, and I can take you there next time. I also know a little bit about Gotham's construction plan... God knows how hard it is to cram all that stuff into my head."
"Beyond that, I know very little." Wayne had a glass of decanted wine in front of him. The wine level didn't seem to have dropped after such a long time, but Bruce Wayne always gave people the illusion that he was slightly tipsy: "...it's quite rude to claim to know everything about a lady who has experienced hundreds of years."
Aria wasn't surprised by this answer, but she wanted to give it a try anyway. Even if people hadn't seen the monster in person, perhaps it had left some trace in urban legends somewhere.
"Are there any rumors about owls here?"
There's an iceberg theory in storytelling, and the same applies to games. In the original game, Aria would occasionally dig up some ominous artifacts from the ground that didn't have much use later on. It's not surprising that a city has some strange stories.
Her question hit the mark on Lincoln March. The man pretended to be surprised and stopped cutting the lamb chops with his knife. "Why do you ask?"
Before Aria could reply, Lincoln glanced at Wayne, who had become serious, and continued, "I haven't heard many rumors about owls. But when I was in the orphanage, the headmistress would always tell horror stories to scare the children who didn't go to bed."
The man pondered for a moment, then the nursery rhyme, which was almost etched into his bones, poured out like mercury: "Beware of the Court of Owls..."
Nursery rhymes are always accompanied by music. To satisfy Aria's curiosity, Lincoln March incorporated the tune into the song, successfully creating a chilling atmosphere that makes people's scalps tingle: "--Thou shalt not mention its name, or it will come with its claws and take your neck."
With a low voice, the owl seemed to have spread its wings and landed among them.
After singing a nursery rhyme, Lincoln March looked at Aria and Bruce with a smile. He was very much looking forward to how they would react.
Wayne frowned, as if the nursery rhyme had brought back some unpleasant memories. And Aria—
The farmer clapped excitedly, seemingly treating Lincoln March as a street performer who could throw out handfuls of money just by opening her violin bag - but based on Lincoln March's understanding of this woman, the only coins she could throw out were pennies.
"You sing so well!" Seeing that the other two were silent, Aria clapped her hands vigorously, trying her best to shoulder the responsibility of being the one to show her support.
To make his words seem more authentic, the farmer made a further request: "Can you sing it again later? I want to record it with my phone. My cows will definitely like your singing!"
“…”
Lincoln March gave a genuine fake smile, as if someone had pulled his face to demand it. "You don't care about the background story of this nursery rhyme at all?" If she turned around in time, he would still be willing to explain it.
"It's just a joke to scare children." The heavy thoughts disappeared from Wayne's brows, and he unconsciously tapped the table: "...Lincoln, we are no longer at the age to believe in ghost stories."
Aria was eager to hear Lincoln March tell more stories about owls, but was ruthlessly suppressed by Wayne.
He turned and gave Aria a charming smile that would have easily seduced anyone else. "What do you think, Miss Aria?"
The farmer wasn't afraid of ghosts at all, and had even placed a cursed mannequin in his home before. But facing Bruce Wayne, she couldn't bear to refuse him - at worst, she could ask Lincoln later. They had worked together before, so he wouldn't mind the time difference.
Seeing Aria nod, Lincoln smiled a half-hearted smile. "Of course that's fake. But I only mentioned it because Miss Aria was curious about it."
"But if you let the cows listen to this kind of nursery rhyme," he shook his head. "I'm a little worried you'll file a complaint with animal protection."
Her cattle are living well on the farm; if you don't believe me, you can come and visit! Aria wanted to prove herself, but the waiter who had been silently serving dishes came up and whispered something in Bruce Wayne's ear.
Because the distance was very close, even if he tried to lower his voice, everyone at the table could still hear most of what he said.
"Mr. Wayne, a gift has arrived. Is it yours?"
"This gift is quite large. Do you want me to have someone carry it to the hall for you, or can I just leave it here?"
Having spent so much time in the restaurant, the waiter's attitude towards nearly a thousand red roses was no stranger to him. Seeing such a large gift package with no explanation, he naturally went to the wealthiest person among the diners to ask first.
Who would have thought that the Gotham tycoon would shake his head and say, "No, I didn't order any gifts here."
Even so, the man stood up and asked to go with him to take a look. When it came to gossip, Wayne never seemed to hide his curiosity.
Taking the opportunity to stand up and hold a smoke bomb in his palm, Bruce winked at the people at the table: "Perhaps someone is proposing today and needs Bruce Wayne's blessing?"
"I want to go too!" Aria raised her hand. Farmers simply loved crowded, lively places. And if the person being proposed to didn't agree, she could carry them away on the spot to help them out of the awkward situation. This was a great opportunity to do a good deed!
"I'm going too." Selina finished the last piece of cake in front of her and smiled. She walked to Aria and took her arm: "My stomach is full, but my curiosity is not. Maybe I know the person who gave the gift." There are only so many celebrities in Gotham, and she can recognize most of them.
Lincoln March naturally couldn't sit here and enjoy the food alone in such an atmosphere. He spread his hands towards Wayne and saw the same helplessness in his eyes: "In that case, I might as well go."
I had a feeling something was wrong and wanted to go check it out, but I didn't expect a group of people to follow me: Wayne: ...
Never mind, this isn't the first time.
…
After a brief delay on the second floor, the incident unfolded as they reached the main hall. The waiter, stunned by the sudden transformation of the gift box, instinctively hid behind Aria.
"I love joyful moments like this!" Harley Quinn, dressed in a circus costume, jumped out of a gift box and bowed to the panicked crowd on the first floor who had been herded together like an actor under the spotlight: "Ladies and gentlemen! How was the meal?"
Harley Quinn looked up and sniffed the air like a little bear searching for honey: "I think I smell dessert. Did anyone of you order dessert?"
The crowd was silent, but she walked towards the waiter with precision as if she had found her target - the poor waiter on the first floor was still diligently carrying the plate of desserts that was equivalent to his daily salary. Even when Harley Quinn rushed in front of him, his body only trembled a little, and his hands remained as steady as a rock.
After removing the lid of the dinner plate, Harley Quinn saw the pudding decorated with a black and red clown hat made of gelatin, and screamed in surprise: "This is my image! How did you know I like this!"
Taking a spoonful of pudding, Harley Quinn was very satisfied: "This is much better than the stuff from Arkham!"
She touched the circus hat on her head, which still stood firm, with the delicate flower spoon she was given. Her voice was still sweet, but her expression darkened. "But do you know what mistake you've made?"
Harley Quinn tapped the glass with the spoon in her hand and pointed at a man trembling under a nearby table, using the spoon as a microphone: "--Sir, time for a random street interview!"
Seeing the man in a suit sweating profusely, Harley giggled and acted like a reporter: "What do you think needs improvement in this restaurant?"
"No, no." Under the threat, the eloquent host could only stammer out a few words. The man couldn't figure out the madman's temper, so he had to use the least risky answer: "Everything is fine here..."
However, this was not the answer Harley Quinn wanted. Harley Quinn shook her head, as if she was the host of a program where players answered questions to win prizes, and the guest with the greatest hope of winning $100,000 had stumbled on the simplest question. Her disappointment was beyond words.
"Wrong! Wrong!"
The pudding arced from her hand and landed accurately on the man's head. "There's a prize for being on the show, but if you answer incorrectly, you'll be punished!"
Harley Quinn jumped onto the grand piano stool in the center of the circular stage and bowed slightly. "Since no one answered correctly, I will announce the correct answer!"
"The answer is - this restaurant hasn't obtained authorization from me and Pudding!" Harley Quinn shook two fingers, particularly dissatisfied with this infringement: "While I was eating paste in Arkham, you were feasting here!"
The moment the commotion broke out, Aria dragged three people and squatted under the nearby table. She looked at each other with Lincoln March, Bruce Wayne, and Selina. Her actions were completely based on instinct, and the farmer had not yet fully understood the situation.
"Who is this?" The farmer, who was still halfway through collecting Gotham's celebrity directory, started looking for it by comparing it with the menu that Zhang had accidentally dropped on the ground: "Is it Harley Quinn? Is this also part of the circus performance?" The immersive experience was so interesting.
She stood up and wanted to actively participate in the NPC's question-and-answer session, but was pulled back by Lincoln March.
"Harley Quinn is dangerous." He whispered in a low voice: "You don't understand Gotham. If Harley Quinn is here, the Joker is probably nearby." Just one madman is tricky enough, and the Joker is the madman among madmen. Even he can't predict what will happen.
"You used my name and didn't even bother to tell me." The show continued outside the table. The impromptu henchmen drove everyone down from the second floor and hurled a massive hammer at Harley. She caught it, and it landed on the table with a threatening thud. "Who's the boss here? Harley Quinn wants to order! Right now!"
Her tone was unfriendly, and it looked like she would hang the restaurant owner from the chandelier in the next second.
Although the waiter remained silent, the manager's gaze was firmly fixed on the new owner. As a veteran of Gotham, he knew that only if Harley Quinn focused her attention on one person would the others be more likely to survive. Under the threat of security, it seemed Bruce Wayne's wealth and status were no longer so appealing.
Harley Quinn picked up the hammer again and walked towards where Aria and the others were. She seemed to enjoy playing this game of cat and teacher, and even gave them time to escape - but none of the four tried to escape. Wayne even stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and intended to take responsibility.
——The next second, he was suddenly pressed down on the chair by an irresistible force.
The farmer stood behind Wayne, raised the other hand that was not holding him down, and smiled at Harley Quinn: "I'm the boss, what can I do for you?"
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Because of the writer's card and various life factors, I haven't updated for a few days. I'm very sorry. To compensate everyone, I will send red envelopes to the first 30 commenters for the next four chapters.
If you fail to update daily, you will also receive red envelopes. Please don't worry about the author abandoning the project.
Aria: You can't mention names or the claws will come and grab you - I get it, this is the Harry Potter Voldemort MOD!
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