77 Gotham:???
85.
"Also, I recognized your voice, Red Hood." Aria added just the right amount of surprise to her tone. "Are you also trying to earn some extra cash because you're short of money?"
"..." The communication was silent for a moment. The Red Hood identified as "RH" did not respond, but simply left the channel temporarily.
A strange yet steady female voice cut into the channel: "Hello, Miss Aria. I am Oracle, the person in charge of backup support for this operation."
Her tone was calm, yet revealed an unshakable tenacity: "Given Batman's evaluation of you, we will consider your opinions in our plan - especially on how to protect the hostages."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Nightwing." A more relaxed male voice joined in, like a ray of sunshine trying to dispel the tension: "A former Gotham graduate, currently working in Bludhaven, temporarily transferred to participate in this rescue operation - I'm a newbie like you, so don't be too nervous."
"We're all sorry about what happened to Mr. March—especially Batman," he continued, with a gentler strength. "But you know, for the sake of those in Gotham who need protection, we have to move on."
"Our people are on their way to pick you up, Miss Aria." Oracle tapped away at the keyboard, and after refocusing her attention, her voice was filled with emotion. "It's faster than I expected... Aria, do me a favor."
"What?"
"Take two steps back—the car is about to hit you."
The purple motorcycle, with a roar loud enough to disrupt the peace of an entire neighborhood, approached from afar in just over ten seconds. On either side of the motorcycle were prominent golden crosses, no, more like a combination of a blade and an axe than a religious symbol. It brushed past where the farmer had just stood, its tail whipping out in a beautiful arc.
The headlights cut through the dust, illuminating the farmer's face.
The woman, dressed in a purple combat uniform with sleek lines, exited the car with the swiftness of a gust of wind. A mask concealed her face, but her cold, piercing eyes were unconcealable.
When his gaze fell on Aria, there was a warmth in his eyes that was not usual. She pointed at herself and said, "Hunter."
"I'm closest to you, so the oracle sent me to pick you up," Helena explained bluntly. Perhaps she was used to speaking this way, and even with her intentionally gentle tone, it felt like she was talking to a predator.
Aria nodded in understanding and was about to say something when the huntress got off the motorcycle in a handsome manner, revealing the person on the back seat.
The man wore a blue wide-brimmed fedora, a double-breasted trench coat of the same color, and a dark suit underneath. His face... his face was so smooth that you could have an ice rink on it - the farmer didn't understand brands, but his outfit and that smooth face really made him look like the cursed mannequin he had sneaked out.
"But the plan has changed slightly," the huntress said with a hint of resignation, "We have a new temporary member joining us."
She turned to the questioner: "Why don't you introduce yourself?"
…Big cities are still great, you can be a vigilante in anything.
The questioner made no unnecessary movements. He walked from behind Helena towards Aria, his steps relaxed and almost casual, but his eyes swept across her like a razor - God knows how a "person" without eyes made others realize that he was looking at her, but the feeling of being watched was like a needle prick, which could not be ignored no matter what.
"The huntress felt it was too dangerous for me to go it alone today, so she dragged me into the car." The questioner sighed, "What a kind act."
"Kind?" The huntress scoffed at this, her tone sharp. "Don't get me wrong, I just need your smart brain."
The questioner ignored him and nodded to Aria. "Questioner, or Q, whatever you want to call me."
"I'm not curious about why Batman trusts you. I'm more curious..." His tone was a little scrutinizing: "Why did you hide just now?"
I'm afraid you'll suddenly swap clothes with me.* Even though he knew the other person was most likely not a cursed mannequin, the confusion of waking up to find both his wallpaper and his clothes replaced was still deeply engraved in the farmer's memory, reminding Aria not to repeat the same mistake at any time.
However, saying this would easily make the farmer lose favor, and the farmer quickly chose a backup answer: "I just remembered a friend - his dressing style is very similar to yours." Clark also seems to like fedoras and windbreakers.
"So you're a reporter too?"
"No," the questioner naturally denied the answer. However, before he could reveal his detective identity, the huntress forcefully interrupted the conversation: "Change cars quickly." After working together several times, Helena had become quite experienced in knowing when to interrupt her partner's endless curiosity.
The questioner shrugged and took out his car keys. A black, old-fashioned Chevrolet parked on the street flashed its lights indifferently. Helena decisively got into the driver's seat and directed the two people, "Stop talking nonsense and get in the car!"
Aria sat in the back seat quite consciously, but she still felt incredible that the beautiful motorcycle was left there: "Don't you want your motorcycle anymore?" After all, she herself was someone who "borrowed" motorcycles frequently, and this motorcycle would definitely be lost in Zuzu City.
The Huntress smiled in response, "They'll have to get a taste of my fists and feet first." Sometimes it was a club, depending on how angry she was at the time. She was happy to teach some thugs who deliberately called her "Batgirl" a lesson with a long stick.
"There are always exceptions." Even sitting in the passenger seat couldn't stop the questioner from asking, "After all, Batman didn't stop someone from prying off his tires..."
"Alas, I still have your beloved car," the huntress said with a kind smile. "If you don't want to collect its body in Gotham Bay tonight, then be quiet for a while."
"..." The questioner was silent, the questioner surrendered, the questioner watched the female hunter start the car and rushed out, the farmer saw a trace of desolation from the back of his head.
This tense conversation successfully restored some of Aria's energy. Following the Huntress's instructions, she took out the spare tactical headset and successfully contacted the Oracle.
"There is not much time left," the oracle reminded: "Aria, our people have set off. Now you can tell me where the 'safest place' in Gotham is." With that location as the center of the circle, she will give priority to sending people nearby to a safe point. The remaining hostages far away from the center of the circle will be escorted by Cassandra and Nightwing, so that everyone will be under less pressure.
"If your answer is the Batcave or Wayne Tower," Huntress said, accelerating to maximum speed. The questioner tapped on the window, a steady rhythm that sounded like the ticking of a bomb. "From what I understand, the former is facing the same crisis. The latter—the latter is actually a popular destination for criminals. I'm afraid their security systems won't meet our needs."
"Before, I guessed you might choose Arkham Asylum. If used well, those serious criminals can also be turned into tools to deal with the claws." The questioner turned his head, and his featureless face faced Aria. It was a little funny, but coupled with his words, it seemed a bit creepy: "Although that place is the starting point of nightmares for many Gotham people, it's not the same for you, right? To you, it may just be another playground..."
"But now my guess has changed - you should choose someone you are familiar with, just like you chose Lincoln March first among so many people on the list." But he really couldn't deduce whose residence among the people Aria knew could be called "absolutely safe". It must be that the information he collected was not enough.
The farmer decided not to speak to the cursed mannequin, her instinct telling her to stay away from him. Fortunately, the huntress slammed the brakes on her Chevrolet and dismissed the questioner with a mission: "John Lee, Gotham Public Advocate, this man is yours. I want him in our car in two minutes."
"That's really harsh." He shook his head and got out of the car quickly.
"I need to find an adjutant, too." The huntress gave the farmer a quick, light smile as she opened the car door. "Don't worry, if you don't want to tell him, we'll take care of the patron's privacy."
"Just tell us the location, and we'll execute it." The Oracle's voice sounded at the right moment, cautiously representing the sentiments of everyone on the channel: "Batman trusts you, and we will do the same."
Watching Batman barely reach four hearts, the farmer wondered for the first time if there was something wrong with the system. But time was running out, leaving her no time for further thought. So, she told the oracle, "We need to gather everyone at Mayor Lewis's house."
She always felt that there was something more she could do: "Is there anyone missing? I can help too!"
…
"So, this is why you are looking for me?" When he opened the door and saw a group of people gathered at his doorstep, even though he was the mayor of Gotham City now, Lewis felt a little overwhelmed.
He pulled the farmer aside with considerable suspicion. As the person he trusted most throughout the entire situation, Lewis truly wanted to believe that the farmer's sincere gaze held no ill intentions. However, as Pelican Town's long-serving mayor, his experience taught him that whenever the farmer displayed such a highly human expression, something even more inhumane was bound to happen.
"You boasted to them that you were absolutely safe here?"
Lewis looked at his fist with some doubt. Although he didn't think he was old, he couldn't fight so many claws by himself. And according to the intelligence of the vigilantes, these claws had a strong recovery ability. It was very likely that the person's face would recover after just a scratch.
"It would be better if you let Pierre do this job." He was the boxing genius who knocked Maurice down with one punch. Even if Pierre wasn't here, you could let the vigilantes at the door do it - pick any one of them and their biceps would look bigger than his head.
"But..." The farmer used the invincible puppy eyes.
"But what but?" Lewis dismissed coldly, "There are over forty targets on the list. Meanwhile, the Court of Owls conservatively estimates they'll dispatch over a hundred Claws to ensure the mission is accomplished. If the owls decide to attack us, even if Pierre is here, including those vigilantes, each of us will have to fight more than ten Claws at once!"
Just imagining that scene, Lewis almost fainted.
————————
*Stardew Valley trivia: Hitting a ghost skull has a chance of dropping a cursed mannequin. Placing it in your home may trigger some paranormal events, such as having your wallpaper or clothes replaced...
*Asker, a relatively unpopular superhero, ranked in the top five or top three in terms of IQ among DC characters. He was a classmate of Lois Lane and a reporter. He has a mask without any facial features. In JLA, he and the Huntress were a couple (). As for here...
Aria: (asking casually)
Questioner: (alert) Because he was almost exposed, he tried to expose the other person's vest for fun. (pointing and pointing)
Lewis: Don't come over here!
For those of you who have guessed the plot, please don't spoil it! I'll write about it tomorrow!
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