46. Gotham: Magnifying Glass
54.
"Are you the boss?" Harley Quinn glanced at the pinned Bruce Wayne, a little suspicious: "Then why did he want to stand up just now?"
"...Maybe my feet are numb and I want to change my position." Aria continued to hold Wayne down, smiling in a way that perfectly matched the expression a restaurant owner would have when facing an unreasonable customer: "Anything you want to eat, Miss Harley Quinn?"
Harley Quinn looked around at the shivering customers around her. This trip was supposed to be an order, but it was actually a robbery. She didn't expect that the other party didn't understand her subtext at all.
But the customer seemed quite interesting. After staying in Arkham for so long, she seemed to have not sat in a restaurant to enjoy a meal for a long time - Pudding was really something, leaving her alone and running away. Otherwise, they could have enjoyed a wonderful candlelight dinner in this restaurant under everyone's blessing!
At the slightest sign, the other guests vacated their seats. Harley Quinn chose a seat that caught her eye and sat down, carefully reading the menu.
However, when she saw the dessert named after her, she was still a little dissatisfied: "You have heard the opinions before, right?" If Harley Quinn was not in a good mood today, she would have smashed it with a sledgehammer if her and Pudding's names were used so blatantly.
The reason the fight hadn't started yet was simply because the NPC's health bar hadn't yet appeared, giving the farmer a sense of urgency. Aria released her grip on Wayne and handled the customer's complaint tactfully.
"Actually, I'm a fan of yours." The farmer lied sincerely, but with his eyes open: "You know, you are far away in Arkham, and it is almost impossible to meet you." If these villains really have fans, visiting the prison should also be regarded as a fan meeting.
"I opened this theme restaurant to find more like-minded people to exchange feelings with. I didn't expect to actually see you in person."
Harley Quinn pointed at the man who was previously forced to answer questions and asked, "What about him? I don't believe he is also my fan." Otherwise, why would he want to run away as soon as he saw her.
"He's an outsider." The farmer wasn't fazed by the question and continued his nonsense seriously, "The food in our restaurant is so delicious that even outsiders passing by can't resist a bite."
As a former psychiatrist, Harley Quinn can tell whether someone is telling the truth by their micro-expressions. But in the eyes of the farmer's sincere dog, she forgot to use those learned knowledge and subconsciously wanted to believe what she said - even if it sounded really ridiculous.
"If you want to prove you're my fan." Half-believing and half-doubting, Harley Quinn issued a task: "Make me fifty servings of 'Harley Quinn' pudding, and I'll believe you."
…
Fifty desserts may be a bit of a challenge for the chef, but it is not a problem for the farmer who masters the recipe.
Aria learned the pudding recipe from the chef in the kitchen, and used the ingredients prepared in the central kitchen to make a row of puddings according to Harley Quinn's requirements, with the efficiency and speed of pre-prepared dishes.
Looking at the neatly arranged rows of puddings, Aria checked the panel and learned that each pudding would increase energy by thirty points, so she took out a handful of sap from the inventory and dripped it into each bowl evenly.
One drop of sap would subtract two points of energy, so the farmer put a full fifty drops of sap in each bowl before leisurely serving it out of the kitchen.
Unaware of this, Harley Quinn ate a small piece under the expectant gaze of the farmer. The next second, an unusually vibrant green crept onto her face.
——The Harley Quinn fainted from exhaustion and fell headfirst onto the table, falling into a baby-like sleep.
The leader who hired him fainted, and the rest of his men scattered like birds and beasts. For a moment, the hall became much quieter.
Although it may have damaged the restaurant's reputation, it was all about saving people. It's not like everyone will lose 100 points this time, right? *
Aria compared the favorability panel with the previous one, and sure enough, it hadn't decreased, but everyone's expressions were a little weird - especially Lincoln March.
Lincoln's mouth twitched. Even though Harley Quinn was still breathing, this biological weapon was scarier than Scarecrow's fear gas. So he resolutely made up his mind to never eat anything Aria made in his lifetime.
…
Gotham News seemed to be always a step or two behind, just like the police. After Harley Quinn fell asleep, the TV in the central hall started broadcasting the urgent news.
"Now playing an emergency announcement. Another large-scale prison break has occurred in Arkham. Killer Croc killed a Gotham police officer and has yet to be apprehended. Citizens, please refrain from going out in the near future unless you have special needs."
With Bruce Wayne gone, Aria had to ask Lincoln March to help deal with the remaining mess.
"I have to go," the farmer said. "A friend of mine seems to be in trouble."
…
"Killer Croc is too conspicuous in other places. It will most likely just go back to the Gotham sewers." A detective next to Gordon handed him a file bag. Both of them had bloodshot eyes. It was obvious that this case had plunged the GCPD into chaos again.
Gordon tried to quit smoking more than once, but every time he encountered such a difficult and anxious moment, he couldn't help but take a cigarette from his colleague and light it with the other person's lighter.
"How's it going over there?" The Gotham sheriff asked without a second thought. The person next to him immediately understood what he meant and whispered, "Killer Croc's escape from Arkham caused chaos. Many criminals have escaped, and Batman is currently hunting them down."
It would take a while to compile the list of Arkham Asylum escapees—a remarkable Gotham speed. But with Batman around, Mark wasn't too worried. Batman knew everyone in Arkham Asylum like they knew his own family. Perhaps a quick walk through the asylum would tell him who was missing and which super criminal had escaped.
"He needs to deal with the more urgent prisoners first," Gordon said, standing in front of the huge sewer drain. He took the last puff of his cigarette and stomped out the butt. "The media has already reported on Killer Croc's escape. To calm the public's panic, we have to deal with Killer Croc first."
In fact, it's not just the public who is afraid of Killer Croc. The police department is also terrified of this huge monster - especially after Killer Croc escaped from Arkham Asylum and killed Detective Bill. This unspeakable fear is like a miasma that enveloped the entire Gotham Police Department.
Even though Detective Bill had numerous flaws in his work and even had some vaguely negative rumors about him, the murder of a teammate he'd worked with day and night by a criminal was a severe blow to the morale of the police department. Gordon would not allow morale to continue to decline. Now the police department must capture Killer Croc and put him in prison to give everyone an explanation.
"Divide into teams of three now and enter through the main sewer entrances in ten minutes," Gordon ordered calmly. "Killer Croc is enormous. Using tranquilizer guns and bullets alone will not only fail to subdue him, but will likely anger him. Everyone is required to report to headquarters if they see Killer Croc. We won't take action until everyone is fully assembled."
Batman hadn't yet hacked into the Gotham Police Department to contact him, so he must have something more pressing to deal with. The Gotham Police Department would just do their best, and the rest would depend on what happened tonight.
His glasses fogged up due to the interweaving of cold air from the sewer entrance and the heat outside. The director took them off, wiped them casually on his clothes, and put them back on. A ray of light flashed on the brand new lenses under the illumination of the searchlight.
“…I’ll go down with you.”
Police were stationed at several major entrances to the Gotham sewers. Bright yellow tape, like a spider's web, blocked several large entrances. It looked like they weren't going to let even a rat in.
Aria wandered around and, realizing the Gotham Police Department's tight net, decided not to force her way in, but to choose another way in.
She took out a ladder from the tool bar, placed it on the ground, jumped onto the stairs, and the next second she successfully rolled down to the concrete floor next to the sewer sewage pool.
The farmer never got wet or dusty, but she still subconsciously dusted off her clothes before getting up.
The sewer system in Zuzu City is extensive, and Aria somewhat regrets not installing a mod that displays the NPC's location in real time, which greatly increases the difficulty of her search for Killer Croc.
It's better to do something than nothing. Aria intuitively knows that Killer Croc's escape from Arkham before killing people might have a hidden agenda. Regardless of how the Gotham Police Department decides to deal with him, as friends, they still need to meet first.
The lighting in the sewers of Zuzu City was always poor, and she imagined that if she were to be hunted by the GCPD, the darker the hiding place, the better. So after hesitating for two seconds at the fork in the road, Aria decided to take the darker path.
The small ring glowed softly in the dark, nearly invisible environment. Having run home countless times in the darkness, the farmer wasn't afraid. Using the tiny ray of light, she observed the water trails along the path, felt the wind's direction in this semi-enclosed space. A creature as massive as Killer Croc would undoubtedly leave a trail as long as he was in the sewer. Finding him was only a matter of time.
After searching for about twenty minutes, the farmer went deeper and deeper into the sewers. Perhaps Gotham's construction plan was beginning to show results, or perhaps Killer Croc had warned them in advance, but she didn't see the sewer dweller she had met that day.
The further in they went, the more polluted the air became. Thanks to Krobus's blessing, Aria was not affected by the negative impact of the environment and was able to focus more on finding people.
At the next corner, a fishy smell entered Aria's nose, and the farmer hit himself lightly.
I didn't watch TV this morning. Maybe today is Iridium Day.
"Hi," Aria said to the endless darkness ahead, "Are you here?"
The other party didn't say anything. The farmer walked a few more steps in the direction of the smell. As the smell of blood became stronger, someone finally spoke.
Killer Croc's voice sounded even worse than the last time they met. He hid in the dark and originally wanted to ambush the GCPD who were searching the sewers, but he didn't expect to meet Aria, whose whole body was glowing.
In the dim sewer, she was like a firefly that had strayed into the place. She was beautiful, but she shouldn't be there—fireflies should go where they should be.
Waylon Jones doused himself in water to dispel the smell of blood: "You shouldn't be here."
The nictitating membrane moisturized her eyes, and her beastly eyes, which had been in darkness for a long time, were not very adaptable to the sudden light: "And it's too bright." This kind of light could easily be detected by the GCPD. If they found out that she was staying with Killer Croc, she would also be dragged into the mess.
Waylon spoke fiercely, thinking that this would scare her away, as if forgetting how Aria washed her hands and waved away the bloodstains by the lake when they first met.
"Sorry, sorry." The farmer didn't seem to be afraid at all that Killer Croc would attack her in the dark. As soon as he said that, she took off the small shining ring and put it into the inventory.
"The sewers are a bit dark," said Crocodile, whose night vision is excellent. Killer Croc watched Aria sit down on the bank of the sewer, exposing her fragile neck. "I can't see clearly in some places, so I need to use this."
He wasn't accusing her of disturbing him with her glow, Waylon Jones tried to explain, but found he couldn't. The possibility of a vicious criminal who killed a police officer and a farmer with strange behavior understanding each other was almost zero.
Aria must be looking for answers here, but Killer Croc may not hand over the lock.
The idea of rejection went through Waylon Jones' mind several times. As long as she showed the slightest sign of wanting to do so, Killer Croc would nip the idea in the bud with his harsh tone.
But Aria said nothing. She just sat there quietly. If it weren't for Killer Croc's excellent night vision, he would have almost thought she was about to fall asleep in the Gotham sewers.
“…”
After a short but particularly torturous silence, it was Waylon Jones who spoke first: "Don't you have any questions?"
He didn't believe that Aria came here under pressure from the Gotham police just to sit on the shore for a while.
"Of course I do." The farmer stared at his tundra boots. He couldn't see anything in the dark, so he might as well see what he had on him. "But you didn't want to tell me."
Not all stories are meant to be shared—especially when a third person might be involved. Forcing an NPC to reveal a part of their past is a bit cruel.
Just like Aria would never ask Kent from Pelican Town about his experience in the Gotlow concentration camp - she is a good listener, able to piece together the fragments of the past from the other person's words and give a comforting gift when appropriate, but the farmer never takes the initiative to stir the lake and make it ripple.
Some hearts are like paper boats, easily wetted by the waves of the lake.
Killing seems to be wrong in the game settings, but in Zuzu City, a city where the line between good and evil is quite unclear, compared to taking sides from the beginning, reasons are more important to Aria than rules.
The farmer would eventually figure out the whole story, but for now, it seemed all she could offer as a friend was companionship.
“…”
Killer Croc's heavy breathing was the only sound that could be heard in the entire space. They stayed quietly in the darkness, and Gordon and the detectives' search seemed to never be able to reach a corner of the spider-web-like sewer.
After who knows how many breathing cycles, Weiren finally spoke and told a story in the third person.
This story is about a boy with a rare disease and a kind-hearted policeman. The policeman is a low-ranking one who lost an arm in a bomb during a mission. So he does the most tedious and meaningless work in the police station, and earns a salary that is barely enough to make a living.
But if the boy were to be judged, the police officer would be more impressive than the mayor of Gotham City.
—Because he was the only one who didn't laugh at the boy's ugly scales and bought him ice cream.
The ice cream was cool and soft, and just holding it in his hand could relieve the burning sting on his skin when his scales were forcibly scrubbed... He felt the same way when he stirred Bill's abdomen with his claws.
Aria listened quietly, feeling a bad premonition in her heart.
"Then he retired." This was extremely fortunate for the Gotham police. If he had quit while he was ahead, Houlihan might have been able to spend his later years in a tight but barely stable life.
After his transformation, Killer Croc found it difficult to make human expressions, but at that moment, a hint of sarcasm flashed across his face: "...still can't change my habit of meddling in other people's affairs."
Out of a sense of honor for his uniform, Houlihan occasionally looked after his neighbors after his retirement. One day, he accidentally discovered the secret of Detective Bill's extortion and collusion with Black Mask - the following is the part of the news that Killer Croc heard in Arkham Prison.
With a splash, a retired policeman named Houlihan disappeared into the water.
Because he was missing an arm, he couldn't even flap his arms twice, but Bill still tied him up very tightly with ropes - in return, Killer Croc used his intestines to recreate the scene.
Waylon omitted the bloody scene. He did not intend to give Aria nightmares with such a description: "But I did not feel the joy of revenge."
He used to be happy when he earned his circus wages with his fists, and he used his bites to shut up those who looked down on him, but Houlihan was dead and no amount of revenge or torture could bring him back to life.
So Killer Croc hid here and tried to use the familiar environment to sort out his thoughts, but he knew that Batman would never let Killer Croc go unpunished for too long.
Aria tried to comfort herself, but a gust of wind carrying the sound of metallic vibrations came from not far away, brushing past her and disappearing into the sewer wall behind them.
Clang—the sound of the metal inserted into the wall lingered, and then a large amount of smoke began to be released, making the already dark space even more difficult to distinguish.
"Batman is here." Killer Croc said gruffly, and in the chaos, he stuffed something into Aria's hand.
It feels like a magnifying glass.
"Hold it for me."
"This is something Houlihan left behind. He couldn't afford reading glasses, so he used this instead. You're a better person to hold it than I am—if you don't want to keep it, just consider it as keeping it for me."
After explaining everything, Killer Croc stretched his muscles and warned Batman before facing him: "It's easy to get lost in the sewers. If I lose, ask him to take you out."
————————
Harley Quinn fainted!
Batman: ? ?
* Putting sap in the soup at the Governor's Banquet will lower everyone's opinion (should be
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