"I looked into the city you live in. Honestly, I had never seen a city so chaotic and steeped in crime. A place blessed with talent and natural beauty?
In my memory, not even Hell's Kitchen, the most chaotic place I knew of, could compare to Gotham in terms of super criminals and disorder.
May I ask, don't you have professional psychologists here? I felt like this place was full of mental patients and lunatics. Even you, who looked normal, struck me as a potential mental patient.
Don't tell me that if you wanted to make something of yourself in Gotham, you first had to learn how to drive yourself mad!"
Rogers pushed aside the thick stack of documents beside him, his face full of helplessness. He had originally intended to draw on the political and administrative experience he had accumulated to help Wayne find a way to change the city, but the more information he read, the more powerless he felt.
This city was already terminally ill. From top to bottom, deeply entrenched chains of interest had formed. The ties between the authorities and the underworld ran even deeper than he had imagined—so deep that they were no longer even concealed.
Even if you produced irrefutable evidence and brought down some big shot, it would be useless. The city's unique ecosystem was what it was. Besides, you might not even be able to bring them down.
Gotham gave Rogers a strange feeling. He even felt that the city was alive, that it had bred a group of lunatics whose every professional skill point had been invested in crime.
Rogers was not afraid of super criminals. Even Hydra meant nothing to him. But he could not predict or fathom the thought processes of lunatics.
"I'd heard Gotham was a terrible