Hahaha, So That's How We're Playing?

On the other hand, twelve minutes later, directly in front of the city square in the Diamond District.

Bartel struggled against the flow of traffic and pulled over behind a crowd of onlookers.

Staring at the spectators blocking the road, Bartel lethargically picked up his pistol, opened the car door, and stepped out.

"My boss, you really are just like Commissioner Gordon said—you can't go a single minute without causing trouble!"

As he spoke, Bartel fell back into the habits he'd formed while with the Falcone Family.

He fired three shots into the air, scaring the surrounding citizens into crouching down and covering their heads.

"The Falcone Family is working here, all you irrelevant people get the hell out of—"

He stopped mid-threat, suddenly remembering that he was no longer a member of the Falcone Family.

Well... what was he supposed to say in a situation like this?

His heartless boss didn't even have a proper name for their organization!

In the distance, Downton was gripping a man wearing LV by the neck, casually counting the man's wallet, when he heard Bartel's shout.

Unable to recognize Bartel's voice, he glared at him with annoyance.

"So you're the one from the Falcone Family, huh!"

"To hell with the Falcone Family!"

"Falcone is old news. Gotham is my era now. I want to see who the hell you are... Bartel?"

At this, Downton looked with amusement at Bartel, whose eyes were wide and whose legs were trembling.

Meeting Downton's gaze, Bartel hurriedly waved his pistol around.

"I-I-I-I misspoke, that's not what I meant, I just had a slip of the tongue, I-I..."

"Alright, I get it!"

Downton impatiently cut off Bartel's incoherent rambling and tossed the emptied wallet onto the ground.

As a professional robber, Downton had an exceptional eye for targets. Well-versed in major brands, he knew that if he just kept an eye out for limited editions and new releases, he would hit the jackpot every time.

Sure enough, he'd pulled over two thousand in cash off a mere passerby—this was way better than the drop rates in the games he loved!

Stuffing the money into his pocket, Downton released the man he'd been holding and turned to walk toward Bartel.

As he walked, Downton raised his gun and let out a demonstrative roar.

"The Wraith Party is working here, all irrelevant people get the hell out!"

As his voice fell, Downton fired three shots into the air, instantly triggering a chorus of screams.

As for Downton himself, he pushed through the crowd to Bartel's side and gave him a sharp kick.

"They all say I'm the wraith of Gotham, and I quite like the title. From now on, we're the Wraith Party. Besides, I can't die even if I want to, and since this organization is named after its boss, there's no chance of us ever needing a new one, haha!"

Amidst his laughter, Downton tucked his pistol back into his waistband and pointed toward the car not far away.

"Let's go. Take me to get some new clothes. I'm meeting a woman later, and I can't show up looking like this."

"Y-y-yes, Boss! Please... get in!"

Bartel nodded frantically and hurried to open the car door for Downton.

But just as Downton stepped one foot into the car, a curse suddenly rang out from the crowd.

"Damn yellow-skinned monkey! Falcone is a real piece of trash for letting a guy like this run wild in Gotham City!"

"Oh, what the hell?"

The moment the voice fell, Downton was immediately interested. He pulled his foot back from the car and looked back at the crowd with a cold sneer.

Under Downton's scrutiny, some citizens finally couldn't help but glance toward the source of the voice.

Following the gaze of a few citizens, Downton locked his eyes onto a family of three.

It looked like a fairly cozy family, consisting of a husband and wife in their thirties and a little girl of five or six.

Facing Downton's gaze, the mother frantically scooped up her confused daughter while trembling as she tugged on her husband's sleeve.

Seeing the little girl, Downton sighed softly; he really didn't want to kill anyone in front of a child.

He raised his gun and walked coldly toward the family of three.

As Downton drew closer, the mother's composure began to crumble, and she kept backing away while clutching her child.

As for the husband—the guy who had shouted—when Downton arrived in front of him, he couldn't help but part his trembling lips and try to maintain a tough attitude as he spoke to Downton.

"I... I'm a police officer. Are you trying to assault an officer! I've never heard of any Wraith Party in Gotham. You... you're insulting Falcone here, aren't you afraid he'll come after you! That's... that's Falcone!"

"Oh, a cop, huh~"

Listening to the man, Downton shook his head with regret and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"So, tell me, do police officers not have to fear bullets?"

As he said this, Downton gently patted the fellow on the shoulder, then stepped in front of his wife and child, reaching out toward the kid.

Seeing that his wife and child might be in danger, the man who had been insulting Downton could no longer hold back.

However...

After noticing Bartel in the distance, mercilessly aiming a Desert Eagle at him, the man ultimately did not put up any resistance.

He actually just watched helplessly as Downton ruffled his daughter's hair.

While rubbing the little girl's hair, Downton shook his head again with a look of regret.

He had already given the loud-mouthed man plenty of chances, but it was a pity that he just couldn't make use of them!

Thinking of this, Downton gently patted the little girl on the back.

"Little brat, how old are you this year?"

"She's only five, please... I beg you... don't..."

No sooner had Downton finished speaking than the child's mother nervously answered for her.

Listening to the mistress's trembling voice, Downton gave her a light pat on the backside.

"Don't what? Don't do what? In your eyes, am I just some piece of trash who would hurt an innocent little girl?

Are you kidding me? If I could lay a hand on an innocent kid, I wouldn't be fit to be the future boss of Gotham, would I?"

With that, Downton chuckled and draped an arm around the woman's shoulders, looking her up and down.

A moment later, Downton smiled.

"Judging by your temperament, you don't look like the kind of woman who would demand a dowry of hundreds of thousands. That being said, you're actually a good woman.

It's just that your taste in men is a bit poor!

Let me do the math for you: besides not asking for a dowry, you and your child even took your husband's surname. With conditions like yours, what kind of man couldn't you find? Why the hell did you have to pick a loser who's all talk and no action?

Looking at that pathetic coward you call a husband, I bet when he's with you, he can only manage to cover your face in spit, right?

Tell me the truth, is this girl his biological daughter?

Regardless, I must solemnly advise you: go back today and file for divorce from that scumbag immediately!

Trust me!"

"I... I... wuu wuu!"

The woman burst into tears instantly; she was so terrified by Downton that she was practically wetting herself.

Just then, the little girl held by the woman suddenly opened her arms toward Downton.

"Handsome uncle!"

Shouting with excitement, the little girl hugged Downton's arm and then puckered her lips, leaning toward him.

Seeing this, Downton smiled and bent down, offering his forehead for the little girl to kiss.

Afterward, the little girl clapped her hands happily.

"Mommy, this uncle is so handsome, even more handsome than the stars you like!"

Hearing the little girl's words, Downton's smile grew even brighter.

"Alright, alright, so that's how we're playing it? If that's the case, don't blame me for being slightly lenient with your wild father~"

Downton gave the woman holding the child a gentle nudge, then pointed toward the park behind the plaza and said, "Take your kid to the park to find some other children, or maybe some cats and dogs to play with for a while. I need to have a serious talk with your husband."

"But..."

"Go!"

The woman wanted to say something more, but she was interrupted by Downton in an instant, leaving her no choice but to tremble as she carried the child away.

And so, amidst the little girl's fading cries of "Goodbye, handsome uncle!", Downton returned to the man who had been spouting off.

Aiming the muzzle of the Desert Eagle at the man's head, Downton said coldly.

"Kneel."

Thump!

The invisible pressure grew heavier, and the man dropped to his knees in the blink of an eye.

Seeing the man kneel so decisively, Downton finally nodded.

"Very good. Now, do you know how to address someone like me in the future?"

"I..."

"You don't need to say it, because no matter what you say, my actions will only make you hate Asians even more.

Think about it carefully; I don't actually need your promise. I just need to make sure you never forget this day!

Illness enters by the mouth, and disaster comes from the mouth—that's a saying from our side, but you really ought to learn it well!"

As the words left his lips, Downton pulled a shotgun from his backpack and kicked the man to the ground.

Holding the shotgun like a baseball bat, Downton aimed at the man's legs and brought it down with an expressionless face.

Once, twice... countless times.

When the blood had splattered across Downton's face, making him look like he had a bad case of smallpox, he finally ceased his movements.

Behind him, Bartel handed a silk handkerchief to Downton, who wiped his face with it and asked, "Old Bart, I don't have much experience with this. Do you think he's still alive?"

"He should be, though he has certainly lost his legs, and likely his wife and children as well."

"Haha, screw him! All he lost were two legs, while I lost an entire day of good mood!"

Downton laughed and cursed, then used the blood-soaked handkerchief to slick back his hair.

The sticky blood acted like hair gel, giving his messy locks the appearance of a pompadour.

Tossing the handkerchief aside, Downton sneered at everyone around him before walking through the terrified, silent crowd and sitting back in the car in silence.

Bartel followed Downton into the car and asked, "Boss, where to next?"

"To Metropolis. Just start driving that way; I need to make a call to figure out the exact location."