Gotham Singularity (12): A Chance to Change Your Fate...
In the damp depths of winter, icy rain, intertwined with biting cold, pelted the muddy ground drop by drop. The howling wind mercilessly swept away all warmth and sound, leaving only a suffocating silence.
Not far from the safe house, under the eaves of a dilapidated house, Jason leaned against the damp wall without a care. His coat, soaked through by the rain along the way, was mercilessly absorbing his body heat.
But he didn't care at all, simply placing the back of his hand against his forehead to perfunctorily shield his eyes from the rain. His unfocused gaze drifted towards Wayne Manor.
It must be chaos over there. Will they be weeping over Batman's body? Or will they not even have time to cry before they have to be on high alert for Gotham's night?
But what does any of this have to do with him? What did he want to do by rushing out... to see Bruce's body with his own eyes?
But it wasn't until he stepped outside that his impulsive mind was cooled by a splash of cold rain. He shivered and suddenly realized that he had no right to go over there at all.
The biting rain slid down his dyed white hair, past his cheeks, and down his neck. Jason chuckled self-deprecatingly. Red Hood wouldn't be invited to Wayne Manor, and Bruce's adopted son had long since died at the Joker's hands.
A surge of emotions choked him, as if forcing Jason to vomit out feelings he wouldn't admit. He gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his complex emotions, but his lips grew paler and paler.
Most of the plans he made after returning to Gotham were rendered useless by Batman's death. Hahahaha, he was really unwilling to accept it!
Jason slid slowly to the ground, as if utterly exhausted. He leaned against the wall, his knees bent, his hands trembling as he hugged them, soaked in the rain. The rain in Gotham was so cold, chilling him to the bone, that it seemed to freeze him so stiff he couldn't move.
The pedestrians on the street had long since dispersed in their haste, leaving Jason alone on the empty street. He had no desire to move to a more sheltered spot.
Just when Jason thought he was going to be soaked for the entire day, a clear voice pierced through the rain.
"Jason, are you giving up already?"
His boots splashed through the puddles, the sound of the soles scraping the ground stopping in front of him. He saw a pale hand offer him an umbrella, shielding him from the cold raindrops.
“Didn’t I tell you not to call out that dead man’s name outside?” Jason turned his head away and said in a hoarse voice, “Don’t shower me with your useless sympathy. I don’t need comforting. Just leave me alone for a while!”
Fujimaru Ritsuka knelt in the rain, her gaze level with Jason's, and said almost gently, "I'm not here to comfort you. You don't need these useless things."
She lowered her eyes and took a deep breath. The vulnerable young man before her made her feel as if she had been transported back to the past, to the time when she watched the doctor sacrifice himself, and whether her expression was also one of helplessness.
She wanted to help him, just like the doctor's final words to himself.
"Then why..."
"I'm here to tell you that this is far from over."
Jason was startled, and turned around to unexpectedly meet a pair of life-filled eyes. The warm gold dispelled the chill like a slowly rising flame.
He suddenly felt his hypothermic body gradually warming up.
"The singularity has not disappeared, the time loop still exists, and it is not time to draw any conclusions yet."
“It’s too early for you to give up now.” Fujimaru Ritsuka stared intently at the pale young man before her, extending her hand to him. “Jason, are you willing to try again?”
Try to change your destiny.
The umbrellas overhead seemed to create an undisturbed, quiet space for them, where even the sound of rain seemed to be shut out.
Perhaps it was the sincerity in his expression, or perhaps the allure of his words. After a moment's hesitation, Jason slowly extended his rain-soaked hand and, as if possessed, took that warm hand in his.
The orange-haired girl's palms were covered with calluses and scars that didn't match her youthful appearance; they were marks left by her journey.
"You knew all along?"
Fujimaru Ritsuka stood up first, then pulled up Jason, who was soaking wet. "I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes has already told me everything."
Water dripped from his wet clothes clinging to his skin. Jason shivered and pursed his lips slightly. "It's okay, I understand his choice. But you, why did you think of coming out to find me?"
They had only known each other for a short time, and few people would choose to meddle in other people's business without expecting anything in return.
"Perhaps... you feel you can't leave alone?" Fujimaru Ritsuka smiled and raised her eyebrows. "We're comrades, I can't abandon my comrades."
Jason's words trailed off in the air. After a long silence, he finally uttered a quiet "thank you." He might have suddenly understood why Holmes had fallen in love with Chaldea and chosen this girl as his master.
The two walked towards the safe house under an umbrella. Halfway there, Jason took the umbrella handle and opened it. As if he couldn't get used to the quiet, he suddenly talked about what had just happened, "Actually, at first I thought I hated him."
"Because the Joker is still alive, right?"
“Yes.” He smiled halfway, then choked up. “I once thought about… killing him. But after he was really gone, I found I couldn’t hate him anymore.”
Tears finally welled up in those blue eyes.
“I don’t want him to die. Even if the Joker doesn’t die, even if our ideologies are incompatible, even if he’s been protecting those damn criminals—I still don’t want him to die like this.”
He covered his eyes with one hand, biting his lip as he let out a silent sob.
Fujimaru Ritsuka turned her head and looked at the young man who was suppressing his pain. She gently tugged at the hem of his damp clothes.
The weight pulling Jason caused him to glance sideways, meeting Ritsuka's concerned yet determined eyes. He heard the orange-haired girl say earnestly:
“We still have a chance to turn things around.” Ritsuka winked slyly. “People who refuse to accept their fate are good at turning the tide. I am, and so will you.”
Jason was taken aback, then vigorously wiped his face. "You're right." Perhaps Ritsuka's determination had infected him; he swept away his vulnerability and declared without hesitation, "Fate can be changed, and we will ultimately prevail."
Pushing open the door to the safe house, Holmes was still sitting in his usual spot. He showed no surprise at the fact that Fujimaru Ritsuka had brought Jason back, and calmly told him to take a shower before discussing the follow-up investigation.
Xu Fu also got up and was yawning, half-leaning on the sofa while hugging a cushion. Yu Ji's doll was carefully placed beside the sofa. Seeing Ritsuka return, she squinted and mumbled, "Master, you're going to dream again."
Fujimaru Ritsuka solemnly placed the doll into Xu Fu's arms, then sat up straight on the sofa next to him, waiting for Holmes across from her or Leonardo da Vinci on the communicator to speak.
When Jason came out after changing his clothes, the living room was already buzzing with a lively discussion.
“I need the autopsy report, the actual scene, and witness testimonies. Especially the last person to see Bruce Wayne,” Holmes said. “I need to know why he was at night, appearing as President Wayne instead of Batman.”
Was the real crime scene, or was the news report fake? Perhaps it was Fujimaru Ritsuka's suspicious gaze that was too intense, because Holmes explained with great interest that it was the unusual bloodstains that led him to this discovery, and that the new crime scene was too clean.
It's as if the criminal intentionally moved the victim to a more conspicuous place so that he could be discovered quickly, rather than leaving him to wait alone and coldly in the rain.
“I know two people who will definitely know the information you need.” Jason walked over and draped the towel he was using to dry his hair over his arm. “The current Robin… and the butler of Wayne Manor, but Wayne Manor must be heavily guarded now.”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, "I'm not sure if those mechanisms are still the same as when I was there."
Upon hearing this, Holmes suddenly curled up the corners of his mouth. "But why should we go to such lengths when there are better ways to get close to them?" He placed his fingers on his knees and said slowly, "There are clearly better ways to get close to them."
Fujimaru Ritsuka and Jason exchanged a glance, simultaneously thinking of something they had overlooked: a staged crime scene. Batman had used a trap set up at the scene of Black Mask's murder to lure in suspicious individuals, so this time should be no exception.
"Let's get ready, we'll move out tonight."
When the torrential rain finally stopped, Gotham was completely plunged into darkness, with a cold crescent moon hanging high, emitting a chilling light.
Bruce Wayne's body was found only a few hundred meters from the downtown area, where dense streetlights and holly trees interspersed, casting a cold, pale light on the road.
Holmes was the first to walk to the nearest streetlight. As he expected, the dark Batman, with Robin, landed in front of him, his body language revealing undisguised wariness, as if it were happening again yesterday.
But everyone present knew that everything had changed beyond recognition.
"Hello, Nightwing," Holmes calmly dropped the bombshell, "to make a long story short, we're here to investigate this series of murders."
An imposing aura erupted the moment the words fell. Batman, or rather, Nightwing, the imposter Batman, broke out in a light sweat, his sharp gaze piercing the group opposite him.
He didn't understand why Red Hood's advisor could see through his identity so easily—no, maybe he even knew Bruce's identity perfectly well.
Could they be the murderers who killed...the murderers of Batman? Thinking this, Nightwing clenched his fists, using almost all his strength to suppress the violent, agonizing pounding of his heart.
He thought he was prepared, but when he actually saw Bruce's face turn ashen and his chest stop rising and falling, he almost collapsed to his knees.
But if he really finds the killer who killed B, what will he do? Will he kill that person to vent his anger?
—No, he won't. He'll just do what B did: put people in jail and hand them over to the judicial system for trial. That's the bottom line he has to adhere to.
Nightwing gathered his scattered thoughts and looked up at the group of people opposite him. The elegant gentleman, despite the sharp pressure, seemed quite relaxed, even with a smile on his lips.
The girl standing behind him showed no sign of nervousness; her aura was as warm as a star radiating tiny rays of heat. Beside her, the man in the red hood crossed his arms, while the oddly dressed boy on the other side yawned absentmindedly.
They were so open and honest that no one would believe they were the murderers.
Robin seemed to have figured something out. He stepped forward to block Nightwing and said in a hoarse voice, "You're waiting for us to show ourselves."
The interrogative sentence was forced into a declarative one; Holmes raised an eyebrow. This was a clever man.
What do you want us to do?
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