Interrogation

For a second, Ma Zhaodi's voice reminded the supervisor of Gollum from Lord of the Rings, a hunched-over monster with a shifty face, spewing venom in a dark corner at the soul-tempting One Ring.

"Precious! My precious!"

"My wages! My wages!"

It was exactly the same.

"You already got your precious ring!" The supervisor, already on the verge of a breakdown from the damn chandelier and Batman, was now stammering incoherently and breaking down in anger: "You got it at the beginning of the month! Damn it, that's my wages, not a magic ring—I'm such an idiot too!"

Ma Zhaodi was certain that if there had been any light source in the room, the supervisor's face would have been red.

However, the lack of light wasn't a bad thing, because the supervisor now sounded like he really wanted to shoot him, and possibly himself.

Batman didn't understand what these two were babbling about. He calmly knocked down the restaurant employees who had drawn their guns one by one. Finally, after two minutes, all the armed employees in the restaurant were down. Only the supervisor, tangled up by Ma Zhaodi, hadn't managed to draw his gun and thus narrowly escaped.

"Hurry up and say it! Say it!" Ma Zhaodi watched Batman disappear into the darkness, his internal alarm bells ringing wildly. He shook the supervisor's body frantically: "Say it, say that sentence!"

"Don't block my shot! You—"

The supervisor's words cut off abruptly as a tall, stern black figure silently appeared beside them. He reached out and grabbed the gun from the supervisor's hand, then pinned him to the ground.

"No—"

Ma Zhaodi let out a desperate cry from the bottom of his heart. At this moment, he finally understood the supervisor's feelings—the sensation of watching a huge sum of money slip through his fingers.

Of course, he was also concerned about the supervisor's safety. But since Batman didn't kill people, he definitely wouldn't die, he'd just suffer a bit at most.

But he himself was in a much worse situation. Setting aside whether Batman would break his bones, he had worked tirelessly for a month, put in enough hours, and now, when it was time to get paid, the company was about to be gone.

For Ma Zhaodi, this was simply the most despairing thing he had encountered today.

"The day before Halloween, someone carved an ugly pumpkin in the restaurant. Where is he?"

Retracting his previous statement, the incident before was the second most despairing thing Ma Zhaodi had encountered today.

A cold, deep voice rang out. Batman completely ignored Ma Zhaodi, who was already lying on the ground beside him. The latter hadn't drawn his gun; the moment the supervisor was subdued, he had put his hands on his head and lay on the ground. There wasn't the slightest hint of resistance from him, only a strong will to survive.

But the instant he heard Batman's question, Ma Zhaodi's vision went black, and he started searching the mall for Rapid Life Recovery.

"Damn it, I knew Batman was the biggest lunatic in Gotham City. He can even find out this kind of information—I only spent half an hour carving in the shop."

Upon hearing Batman's question, the supervisor, who was being held down, was first stunned, then burst into laughter while lying on the ground, shaking with mirth.

"Hahahahaha—Is that all?" he taunted as he laughed. "Ha, Gotham City's Midnight Nightmare is just this? Hahaha, cough cough, investigating a murder case and ending up with a fool who carved an ugly pumpkin?"

"What's wrong with not being able to carve a pumpkin? Did your pumpkin being ugly eat your rice?"

Ma Zhaodi couldn't help but look up and retort, "The pumpkin I carved had a strong artistic flair. You're the one who lacks artistic talent, okay?"

At this moment, both the supervisor's and Batman's gazes fell upon him. The supervisor's eyes held a look of seeing an idiot, while Batman casually placed him on the ground.

"So, you carved that pumpkin?"

He's asking the obvious. Would Batman act without first confirming the identities of everyone in the restaurant? He just hadn't had time to confirm if he was truly just a passerby who had just arrived in Gotham.

Ma Zhaodi's heart pounded. Only when facing the giant black bat directly could he truly grasp the terrifying pressure he exerted. In just two minutes, he had forced over a dozen armed Falcone gangsters to their knees, unable to move. Even with the cover of the stormy night, it was enough to show how strong he was.

Muay Thai, boxing, taekwondo, judo, ninjutsu, Brazilian jiu-jitsu. He had mastered all 127 martial arts in the world; degrees in criminology, law, biology, physics, advanced chemistry, and medicine only represented the tip of the iceberg of his knowledge. Rigorous physical training since the age of 11, a specific diet, and biofeedback training had brought his body to the peak of normal human physical capabilities; master tactician, master interrogator, embodiment of fear – these were all his titles.

Batman could almost be considered a perfect human in a certain sense. Only such a person could, with his bare flesh, bring down the gangsters, assassins, criminals, and supervillains in Gotham City who used ice, fire, schemes, psychological manipulation, magic, mutations, or were undead or unliving, and then take them to prison or Arkham Asylum.

And now, such a figure stood before him. Although he wasn't as sharp and terrifying as he would become in his later years, extracting secrets from his mouth was still effortless.

BOOM!

A clap of thunder exploded outside the window again, and lightning illuminated the room, casting the cold, solemn shadow of the bat onto Ma Zhaodi, completely engulfing him in darkness.

"It—It was me who carved it. Carving a pumpkin on Halloween isn't illegal—"

"But murder is, and the pumpkin left at a murder scene is equally ugly."

"What do you mean 'equally ugly'? The locals in Gotham City are really too rude."

Ma Zhaodi said this and took a small pumpkin lantern from his pocket. The carved eyes and mouth were almost equally ugly as the pumpkin found at Johnny Vitti's death scene.

But if Batman were to judge, the one before him did seem a bit uglier.

"Where did you go after you went out on Halloween?"

"Out on the streets, playing with the costumed crowds for Halloween."

Batman's eyes narrowed slightly, showing dissatisfaction.

Seeing the situation was dire, Ma Zhaodi immediately pleaded, "Don't hit me! I went to the Diamond District, wearing the pumpkin mask I carved myself."

"Where is your mask now?"

"It's at home. I haven't had time to eat yet."

"The factory fire, did you see it?"

Hearing this question, Ma Zhaodi's heart tightened.