The Reckless Asian Was Back Again

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As he walked, Downton reloaded his magazine. But by now, he could no longer hear gunfire, and that was no good sign.

Following the crowd toward the area where the shootout had just taken place, he found, as expected, that the gangsters had finished fighting and fled. All that remained was a large contingent of cops cleaning up the scene.

No wonder he had come here with the crowd this time. As long as nobody was shooting, Gotham citizens did not mind gathering at a murder scene to look at all kinds of corpses.

This city was full of countless rumors, all born from Gothamites' vigorous, boundless curiosity.

Seeing that the situation had become clear, Downton had no choice but to tuck his gun back into his waistband.

Then he took off his especially conspicuous, bullet-riddled shirt. Bare-chested, he patted a nearby civilian on the shoulder.

"What's your name?" Downton asked casually.

The civilian he had questioned glanced back. After his gaze lingered on Downton's chest muscles for a moment, he said—

"Hey, buddy, I'm not gay."

"I asked your name, and you tell me you're not gay? Are your ears clogged? Want me to make a hole in them and clear them out?"

Downton drew his gun again and discreetly pressed the muzzle against the civilian's waist.

With a gun pointed at him, the civilian immediately nodded shakily.

"Don't get worked up. I was just joking. I mean... you look pretty sexy with your shirt off. If you really want it, I wouldn't say no."

"Hey!" Downton slammed the butt of his gun into the civilian's kidney. "Be serious!"

"Okay, don't get worked up. There are cops all around here!

Just tell me what you want. My wife's waiting for me to bring condoms home so I can give her a good fucking.

I only came out to restock because I ran out of condoms. You've got to forgive my desperation. I don't want to mess with anybody!"

The civilian hurriedly explained himself. Downton moved a little closer, shielding the gun as he asked—

"Do you know which gangs were involved in that shootout?"

"Fuck, who around here wouldn't know? This is Falcone territory. Sabatini has always run it for him!

As for their opponents, can't you tell by their faces? They're all Slavic trash from the Russian mob!"

"Do you know roughly where those two gangs are based?"

"How the hell would I know that? All I know is that Falcone has an Iceberg Lounge where plenty of gangsters hang around.

Other than that, I know nothing. I don't fucking run with them!"

"The Iceberg Lounge, huh? Got it."

Downton put away his gun, turned, and left. There were no gangsters around here anymore, after all.

As for the GCPD officers drawing white outlines around the various bodies on the battlefield, Downton had no grudge against them.

Bare-chested, Downton might have looked a little threatening. Or perhaps his tattered pants were simply disgusting.

As he passed, the surrounding civilians all moved aside to make a path for him.

But before he had even gone twenty meters, he heard a shout from behind him.

"Help! That shirtless Asian threatened me with a gun to make me go gay with him! He was asking about Falcone too—I think he's an assassin sent by the Russian mob!"

"Fuck!"

The instant he heard that, Downton drew his gun and spun around. He saw the civilian he had threatened sprinting toward the police.

Without another word, Downton took off after him. In just a few strides, he burst through the crowd and caught up from behind.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He fired three shots in a row. Only after the big-mouthed civilian's leg was broken and he began crawling did Downton squat down before him in satisfaction.

Grabbing the civilian by the hair, Downton roared at him.

"Do you know why you got shot? Not because you called the cops, but because you fucking slandered me!

Going gay, huh? You're the one who wants to go gay, aren't you? Can't get through three goddamn sentences without talking about going gay, can you?!"

Thud!

Downton viciously kicked the man right between the legs, then threw the civilian, who was twitching like a shrimp, back onto the ground.

Having vented his anger, Downton turned and walked away with his gun in hand. His brazen behavior left the surrounding cops stunned for a moment.

After that brief stunned silence, officers immediately sprang after Downton.

"Stop! Don't move!"

"GCPD!"

"Drop the gun! Get on the ground! Hands on your head!"

"Wait, there's something wrong with that guy!"

"Fuck, that reckless Asian who went on a killing spree earlier has respawned again!"

Some cops recognized Downton. Even in Gotham, it was hardly common for someone who had just been shot to death to come back and start killing again multiple times in one day.

But there were only a few officers who knew Downton. Once he turned away, more cops raised their guns and began firing at him.

The flying bullets and violent gunfire sent the recently gathered onlookers scattering in panic. Screams rose one after another, making Downton rub his ears.

If they were so scared, why crowd around a murder scene in the first place? Listen to those broads scream.

And those men screamed like broads too.

At the same time, the few cops who recognized Downton began stopping the others.

"Don't shoot! Take him alive!"

"Right, there's something strange about that guy. If we kill him, he might pop up somewhere again!"

"That Asian can't be killed! Take him alive and hand him over to Falcone!"

"Fuck, there are so many civilians nearby! Are you crazy? You're firing toward the civilians!"

The last shout came from a lean little old man. He looked to be in his forties, yet he was somehow running even faster than Downton.

In barely a dozen seconds, the little old man left the police squad in the dust and actually caught up right behind Downton.

"Stop!"

As he shouted, the little old man fired two shots at the ground to Downton's left and right. Grit and stones splashed onto Downton's legs, making him turn back with a frown.

"You're pretty damn fast!"

Downton casually aimed his gun in the little old man's direction. But before he could line up his shot, the little old man fired again.

Smack!

Pain flashed through Downton's right hand. The back of the hand holding the gun was shot clean through.

"Hiss!" He sucked in a breath. "That accurate, huh?"

As he spoke, the little old man aimed at Downton's lower leg again.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

As the little old man nearly emptied his magazine, Downton lay straight down, planning to fall asleep on the spot and improve his sleep quality.

Unfortunately, the surrounding cops gave him no chance. Once Downton's lower leg had been shattered, they stopped shooting.

As for the little old man, he pounced onto Downton, straddling him and pressing his gun firmly against Downton's forehead.

"Someone cuff him and bring him back to the station!"

The little old man called for the surrounding officers to handcuff Downton. A policewoman even brought over a medical kit to give him emergency treatment.

Watching the policewoman rip open his pants, take off his shoe, and wrap bandages around his lower leg and ankle, Downton laughed through the pain.

"Being a cop isn't easy, huh? You even have to rub criminals' feet."

"Fuck you!"

The policewoman viciously pressed down on Downton's wound, making him arch his body sharply in pain.

Nearby, several cops who had seen Downton before also moved closer and spoke to the little old man straddling him.

"Captain Gordon, this Asian is the guy we told you about.

We saw Falcone's and Dimitrov's men turn him into Swiss cheese twice. Then his corpse started burning, and within seconds, there was nothing left!"

"Yeah, he combusted like a vampire in sunlight. Then not long after, he came back in perfect condition and started killing again!"

"We really aren't joking!"

The officers kept explaining, trying their best to make Gordon believe them.

Listening to his subordinates, Gordon's little mustache twitched twice. He solemnly nodded at them.

"I don't disbelieve you. In Gotham, after all, any bizarre thing can happen."

"You're right, Captain Gordon!"

Suddenly, Downton, who had been desperately enduring the pain, lay there and waved at Gordon.

"Now that I know you're Gordon, my heart skipped a beat too.

Normally, I should have a good chat with you, but my leg hurts like fucking hell!

Since all kinds of bizarre things can happen, something even stranger should be perfectly normal, right?

Goodbye, Captain Gordon. But don't be in a hurry—we'll meet again eventually. Or maybe we'll meet often. Hahaha!"

Laughing, Downton closed his eyes in accordance with his instincts.

A moment later, when he opened his eyes again, he had appeared somewhere else entirely, unharmed.

After dying once this morning, his instincts had already told him what kind of talent he possessed.

His ability was very simple: it allowed him to appear in a random location in perfect condition.

The conditions for triggering that ability were equally simple. There were only three.

Loss of life, loss of consciousness, and loss of freedom.

Freedom included freedom of thought and will.

After losing any one of those three things, he could reset his state, either passively or voluntarily, and appear somewhere else.

"What a wonderful ability."

After landing, Downton grinned and tucked his gun back into his waistband.

The two gangs that had killed him the first time were no longer fighting each other. He could only track them down one at a time.

But before that, he ought to settle the debt he owed.

The gun shop owner had maintained the pistol exceptionally well. It felt especially smooth in his hand.

So Downton made a decision: he ought to find a lucky bank and withdraw some money.

Right, before withdrawing money from a bank, he needed to find a lucky clothing store first and change into clothes without bullet holes.

At that thought, Downton turned his head to the left and chuckled softly.

What a coincidence. Wasn't there a clothing store right there?