Soul 5's Good Habits

Gotham City seemed even gloomier today.

Pattering raindrops poured from the sky, the bone-chilling mist entering pedestrians' lungs with every breath, causing them to shiver involuntarily. The clouds overhead were thicker than usual, making the already dim daylight even more somber, and the entire city felt shrouded in an oppressive gloom.

Gotham in the shadows made one deeply uncomfortable.

The conversation happening inside the GCPD in downtown Gotham City made one even more uncomfortable.

"I was the one driving that day to help them escape the scene. I'll write it all down if you need it."

"The package I delivered to that woman, Harvey Dent's wife, Mrs. Dent, you know. I'll write it all down if you need it."

"I followed Dent to his house, yes, I did, followed him all the way home. I'll write it all down if you need it, I will."

"I pressed that damn remote control button. And I'll write it all down if you need it."

Five testimonies, including Mickey's, had been cross-referenced and were airtight—no matter how much the Roman paid them, it was worth it.

Batman thought this silently.

A nearby officer on standby heard a low, hoarse voice from the darkness: "Bring Mickey back."

Meanwhile, in another old building in Gotham's East End—

"Breaking News! Five Irish Mob members who attempted to bomb District Attorney Harvey Dent's home have confessed to attempted murder!"

"As of now, Mrs. Dent remains hospitalized and has not yet regained consciousness. This paper will follow up with more news."

Ma Zhaodi stared at the bold, enlarged black headline in the newspaper, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

How did things get to this point?

Perhaps it started a few days ago, with the mission he received?

--

"Thank you, System Daddy, System Daddy is so good, muah!"

One of the fundamental natures of humans is to say one thing and do another.

"It's better to guide than to block."

Mission Brief: When Falcone sets his sights on someone, that person is definitely not going to have an easy time in Gotham—unless they're a superhero.

Unfortunately, Harvey Dent is not a superhero, and right now, Falcone believes he burned twenty million dollars of his black money and possibly killed his nephew.

In this situation, few people can help him, and even fewer are willing to.

Notes: High-risk, low-reward work. It's understandable if you don't want to do it—you don't have infinite money or an invincible, HP-locked cheat code.

Status: To Be Completed (0/1)

Reward: Advanced Culinary Mastery

Ma Zhaodi pondered the mission brief and content for a long time, not because he was struggling between his conscience and the pros and cons, but because the mission content was ridiculously absurd.

"Help the Irish Mob bomb Harvey Dent's house? Me? I'm supposed to make the bombs? Do you think Two-Face's origin story is missing a bit of fun without a cannon fodder named Ma Zhaodi?"

"Property damage must not exceed twenty percent, and Harvey Dent and Mrs. Dent must survive. Are you even listening to yourself? The mission brief says to help him, and the mission content says to bomb him. What exactly do you want me to do? Wait."

Ma Zhaodi looked at the mission name and suddenly had a realization.

Before coming to Gotham City, Ma Zhaodi had played a game called Soul 5. In this game, there was a very peculiar item called a Poisonous Dung Pie, which, when thrown, would poison the user.

What kind of bizarre item was this? What was its purpose?

Until he encountered monsters that used venomous darts, their poison potent enough to kill players instantly. These annoying creatures had held him up for an entire afternoon.

During a moment of extreme frustration, he started retaliating with the dung pies and was surprised to find that the dung pies put him into a poisoned state, rendering the venomous darts ineffective.

From then on, every time he defeated an opponent, he would throw two dung pies at them to replenish his poison status.

"I'm a genius!"

Thus, Ma Zhaodi, having understood, immediately accepted the job. Although dealing with the mob was dangerous, and bombing Harvey Dent's house might make him remember me, this was something he couldn't escape.

He was the one who burned that twenty million. Harvey just happened to arrive at the scene. Regardless, making an upright prosecutor take the blame for him was already unethical. If he stood by and did nothing when he could help, it would be a betrayal of his ancestors for eighteen generations.

He didn't want to have sons who couldn't get it up in the future. If Harvey was destined to become Two-Face, he hoped his origin story wouldn't include him—even if he couldn't be a good person, at least he shouldn't be a bad one.

"Ma Zhaodi, what are you spacing out about?"

Santos, standing beside him, casually patted his shoulder. "Thinking about where we're going to have fun tonight?"

"Do I need to say?" Ma Zhaodi smiled confidently. "As a penniless restaurant server, I follow cooking livestreams every night to learn how to cook, so I can pretend I have a wife when I take pictures."

"...Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no, no," Rick suddenly chimed in. "We get paid tonight, remember? Spend some money, go straight to a bar, find a pretty girl, buy her a few drinks, find a nice place to spend the night. Isn't that better than staying home?"

"Or I'm having a party at my place," added Castro, who was addicted to parties. "There will be lots of girls."

"Oh, right, we get paid today." Ma Zhaodi's ears automatically filtered out the extraneous noise, his mind filled only with the words "get paid."

His entire month's worth of salary and assets would only be credited after getting paid today. The thought of receiving several thousand dollars in asset points made him hum involuntarily.

See, I only promise, I don't deliver.