As Gotham gradually entered summer, temperatures rose and the wind and rain subsided. Aside from a little rain in the first half of the night, the weather improved considerably. Weather like this was kinder to those without a fixed home; at least they no longer had to worry about freezing to death at night.
Rather ironically, Bruce had not thrown away the money from his archenemy, Joker Jack. To Batman, that was unimaginable. Everything connected to criminals was a virus in his eyes, and money especially so.
But now, he was neither Batman nor Bruce Wayne. Neither of those two would have done something so insane as stubbornly battling it out in the Slums with civilians he had never paid attention to.
Batman would have thought it was a waste of time, because in truth, he had accomplished nothing during this period.
He had exhausted all his energy and strength, and the only thing he had done was stay alive. If he had been Batman before, he would certainly have condemned this as wasting his life.
Yet Bruce was here, living in constant unease, unable to take even one step forward for half a day. He had become poor enough to accept Joker Jack's aid, yet still did not have enough money to rent a better apartment.
Bruce's original destination had been Living Hell. He had transformed the place himself, and he wanted to see with his own eyes what it had become.
Then he discovered that he could not afford to rent a place there.
A one-bedroom, one-living-room apartment in Living Hell cost fifteen dollars a week. That was an unimaginable price in the East End. Selene's apartment was also a one-bedroom, one-living-room unit, complete with a bathroom and balcony, and it only cost six dollars a week.
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