"From that cacophony, I heard countless familiar voices. I had once laughed and chatted with them in luxurious mansions, but now, the hatred in their voices sounded as if they wanted to kill me."
"I know it's impolite to break into someone else's home. It goes against Gotham mob rules. But what drove me to do this was an emotion I couldn't explain..."
"Why are you doing this?" Jason asked from the truck. "Batman, give me a reason. I don't believe you're this impulsive."
"Though we haven't known each other formally for long, I think you're a lot like me. You like to make every plan before doing anything, minimizing the chances of surprises. So what exactly are you doing now?"
"I don't know." Bruce gave an answer that surprised even himself. "An emotion drove me to do this."
The shouting around them grew louder, and gunfire gradually began to ring out. Most of those living in the North District were leaders of major gangs, so the area was brightly lit and thriving.
This place was like an isolated island suspended above Gotham society. Everyone here made the rules and upheld them, praising them to the skies.
So when a truck that absolutely should not have been there crashed in, everyone began shouting for blood. The children in the cargo bed could see fierce flames rising through gaps in the truck's canopy.
But their first reaction was not to scream. They covered their mouths with their hands. They absolutely could not make a sound. This truck was not good cover; if it exploded, none of them would survive.
The truck's tires were hit first. The gang enforcers here were not the insignificant lackeys outside. Their aim was excellent, and they knew a blown tire could send the truck out of