Clark hurled the orange juice in his hand into the trash can. He felt that he shouldn't have overestimated his blood and brain's resistance to Gotham drugs. This was Gotham, after all. He had to be more careful.
Standing beside the trash can, Clark strapped a small action camera to his chest. Beyond this point lay the genuine Gotham Slums. He didn't think the people here would tolerate him walking in carrying a long gun and artillery, so a small camera he could wear was the best option.
The walls around Arkham City were one massive construction site. Since the project had been abandoned halfway through, most of the facilities had simply been left there.
After passing through the wall, Clark looked toward the other side. Only after confirming there were no crocodiles, hippos, or seagulls there did he walk over.
The moment one of his feet stepped beyond the construction fence on the other side, he heard a burst of commotion coming from his right.
Clark turned and saw that two people were fighting. Instinctively, he shouted and charged toward the pair who were grappling with each other.
Clark grabbed one man by the sleeve and yanked him aside, then wrapped his arms around the other man and pinned him to the ground. He stretched out one hand and pressed it against the first man's chest to keep him from rushing over for a finishing blow.
"Wait! Wait! Don't fight! What happened here?!" Clark spread his arms between them, looking left and right.
On the left was a Black man wearing an earring and sunglasses. On the right was an elderly white man with a gray-white beard.
The Black man was the first to start gesturing wildly. "Hey, listen, you can't stop me. This guy stole my tire. He