Room Service

Rat-a-tat-tat!

Boom!

Downton had just landed from the void when he heard gunfire and explosions in the distance.

"Heh, Gotham really lived up to its reputation!" Downton sneered.

This damned city did not bother hiding anything. Even while a massive gunfight was breaking out, big shots like the mayor only cared about the kidnapped daughter of the Deputy Secretary of Defense.

What was a gunfight?

It was just the scum and the chaff competing for survival.

When poor people were kidnapped, it was not called kidnapping—it was called disappearance. Only when someone with a background like Heino's was kidnapped did it become a truly heinous kidnapping case... one capable of tugging at the mayor's heartstrings!

If he had not been randomly teleported here, Downton would not even have known Gotham was in the middle of a gunfight.

But what Downton cared about more was where he was.

After looking around, Downton realized he was standing right outside a Wayne Bank. People nearby had already spotted his sudden appearance and were calling the police.

Since he had encountered such a civic-minded passerby, Downton naturally had to provide him with some emotional value. He drew the pistol from his waist and walked toward the middle-aged man making the call.

"This is near the Wayne Bank in Burnley District. I saw an Asian man suddenly appear in the street!

Believe me, I'm not joking. He really did appear out of nowhere!

How did he appear out of nowhere?

Are you fucking stupid? How else could he have appeared? He just went whoosh and ap—"

"Hey!"

Downton tapped the bald middle-aged man on the head with his gun barrel, then snatched the phone from his hand.

The man stiffened, then immediately ran backward, abandoning even his phone.

Seeing how decisively the man fled, Downton gave him a thumbs-up from afar before putting the phone to his ear.

On the other end, the police dispatcher was still droning through the usual routine.

"Yes, yes, yes, you're right. He appeared out of nowhere, not because you got high and saw things.

You're near Wayne Bank, right? I'll send someone over right away.

Don't worry. The officers who arrive will primarily be there to arrest the teleporter you mentioned, and only secondarily to arrest you and the guy who sold you flour.

You..."

"Shut up, buddy. Someone else is on the line now."

Downton cut the dispatcher off, and the dispatcher clearly froze for a moment.

A moment later, the dispatcher's voice shot up several octaves.

"What did you just say? You actually told me to shut up!

You're finished. The nearest cops are only half a block away. You..."

"I'm Downton, buddy, so quit fucking taking your anger out on people.

If you don't know who I am, call your Commissioner Gordon, or go check the Gotham news. Let my story broaden your horizons!"

With that, Downton smiled and hung up, then tossed the phone to a young man nearby who was spinning a sign.

Hit by the phone for no apparent reason, the sign-spinner held it in confusion and asked Downton,

"Sir, what is this...?"

"I'll come clean—I'm Zorro. This thing is what I use to rob the rich and help the poor.

It's a smartphone, so it should fetch a little money. Hurry up and sell it somewhere, then buy yourself some clean clothes that don't stand up on their own."

Downton waved to the sign-spinner, then swaggered off in the direction opposite the gunfire.

If it had been daytime, he definitely would have gone to watch the gunfight for fun.

But it was already seven in the evening, and he had been busy all day. It was time to find somewhere to get his feet massaged and then sleep properly.

Downton hailed a taxi and handed the driver in a baseball cap twenty dollars as soon as he got in.

"Find me a hotel with massage service. Keep the rest as a tip."

"Sure thing, boss. I'll take you there right away!"

After taking the twenty, the driver happily sniffed the bill. He liked easygoing passengers like Downton best.

The nearest Kane Hotel was only about three hundred meters away. It was just around the corner—he was making nineteen dollars and eighty cents with tears in his eyes!

As for Downton, after settling into the back seat, he looked toward the source of the gunfire and asked the driver,

"What's with the shooting over there? Whose turf got hit this time?"

"That's boss Sabatino's territory. I don't know who had the guts to attack his place. He works for Falcone!

Still, I'm guessing it was those Russian guys. They had a huge fight at noon, and hundreds died. The street sweepers spent hours just washing the blood off nearby streets.

While I was working this afternoon, I drove a few passengers through that area. Guess what? The government sent four corpse vans there, and they still couldn't hold all the bodies.

The funniest part was that Gotham Hospital sent five whole ambulances over, but there wasn't a single person left who could be saved.

They fought too cleanly. Every corpse had been finished off... wait, you're here already, boss!"

Screech! After turning a corner, the taxi came to a violent stop in front of the Kane Hotel.

Downton was jolted hard by the sudden brake. He turned to the driver with a look of disbelief and asked,

"You didn't even finish your sentence, did you?"

"But the Kane Hotel definitely suits a boss with refined tastes like yours!" the driver answered with utter conviction.

Downton shook his head with an amused smile.

"Then why didn't you just tell me where it was?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Downton smashed the driver across the head with his pistol grip.

Amid the driver's screams, Downton pulled out another thousand dollars and threw it onto the damned driver.

"But you were right about one thing: my taste has always been impeccable. Just like I never spend less than a thousand dollars on pocket change.

That hat of yours is nice. Let me borrow it. Use the rest to buy gauze, asshole!"

"Ahhh... huh?"

The driver had been screaming when a thousand dollars suddenly smacked him in the face.

"Uh...?"

He swallowed and no longer even held his head.

Downton ignored the driver, who had been subdued by the money, put on the baseball cap, and got out of the taxi.

He entered the Kane Hotel openly. Rather than getting a room, he headed straight up the stairs to the third-floor restaurant. After observing the surroundings, he continued up the stairwell through the restaurant to the seventh floor.

Strolling along the seventh-floor corridor, Downton randomly stopped outside one room and pounded heavily on the door.

Bang, bang, bang!

"Room service!"

As soon as Downton spoke, a voice came from inside.

"I don't want room service!"

"I can't hear you. This is fucking room service!" Downton continued pounding on the door and shouting through it.

Not long after, a young man with a bedsheet wrapped around his waist angrily yanked the door open and roared at Downton.

"I fucking said I don't want room service. Get lost and stop interrupting me while I'm... help... mmph?!!"

Before the young man could finish, Downton grabbed his hair with his left hand, shoved him into the room, and stuffed the gun barrel into his mouth.

Letting go of the young man's hair, Downton held his left index finger before his lips and shushed him.

The young man nodded heavily, so Downton turned sideways and pulled the door shut.

Downton pulled the pistol from the young man's mouth, spun him around, pressed the gun against his lower back, and forced him toward the bedroom.

Inside the bedroom, a naked woman was boredly playing with her hair when she saw the young man with his hands raised.

"Ahhh!"

"Shut up!"

Downton kicked the young man onto the bed, then lunged at the woman and shoved the gun barrel into her mouth.

After stopping the woman's screams, Downton turned back to the stunned young man and said,

"Find something to tie her up tight. Hurry!"

"I... I'm on it!"

The young man hesitated for a moment, then quickly found the hair dryer's power cord and even unplugged the HDMI cables from the television and computer.