Batman, I'm Going to the Early Eight!

Ma Zhaodi certainly saw the factory fire; he was the one who started it.

In fact, this question was a multiple-choice question, just like all the previous ones Batman had asked.

He knew Ma Zhaodi had carved a pumpkin in the shop, so for the first question, he naturally couldn't answer no.

He had a way to check what he'd said to his colleagues, and he'd once said in the shop that he wanted to sell pumpkins on the street on Halloween. So for the second question, Ma Zhaodi could only answer that he'd gone out on the street.

Similarly, Batman could easily confirm that there was a pumpkin head in his house, perhaps he'd even taken photos of it. He'd also carefully checked the surveillance cameras at key intersections, or directly asked residents or passersby near the area where Johnny Vitti was murdered. Then, if anyone—even an old lady with a bad memory—had seen his distinctive pumpkin mask, they could immediately recognize it because it was so unique.

So for the third question, Ma Zhaodi answered that he'd gone to the Diamond District wearing the mask.

These three questions were using known information to determine if he was lying. The factory fire question seemed different because after he'd taken off the pumpkin mask, he'd completed his concealment and change of clothes with the System's help. Therefore, he likely couldn't have followed the pumpkin mask clue any further.

But it only "seemed" different.

The factory fire was enormous. That night, in the Diamond District, almost everyone could see the rolling black smoke and towering flames from halfway across the district. Such a sight was rare in a wealthy area like the Diamond District and couldn't possibly go unnoticed. So, it was no exaggeration to say that the entire Diamond District probably noticed the fire that made Falcone furious.

"I saw the flames from afar and heard the commotion. Fearing something else might happen, I left immediately."

"But you weren't wearing the mask anymore?"

"I took it off," Ma Zhaodi chuckled awkwardly. "It was too ugly, a bit embarrassing. Plus, everyone was watching the fire, and I was afraid people would notice my mask."

This was true. After quickly leaving the factory area, he deliberately took off his mask. Once the fire started, it became his alibi.

So he knew his pumpkin carving was ugly.

Everyone present suddenly had this thought—even Batman.

At this moment, Batman continued to stare at Ma Zhaodi. The man's physical reactions, pupil dilation, heartbeat, and sweat all indicated he was telling the truth, yet Batman instinctively felt something was off.

He was too tense, and yet too relaxed.

Everyone was nervous when facing Batman, but criminals usually feared and hated him intensely. Even ordinary people mostly regarded him with fear, distrust, and a bit of hostility—which was normal. Who would trust a bat-like creature who hid in the darkness every day, always breaking people's bones, and hanging them from towers?

He was Gotham City's nightmare, not just for criminals, but for everyone. Few were willing to trust him.

But this person in front of him seemed very confident that he wouldn't be harmed. Either he wasn't very bright, or he understood him better than most people. He understood—or rather, thought he understood—Batman's abilities and methods, so he was both more afraid and more trusting of him than the average person.

I need to thoroughly investigate the identity of this newcomer to Gotham when I get back, he thought silently, then turned his gaze back to the supervisor.

"Where is Donald?"

The supervisor's face suddenly changed. He and Donald had recently done many things for the Falcone family at night, and killed many people. Batman looking for Donald was certainly not for a friendly chat.

"Don't even think about getting anything out of me!"

In an instant, he threw a sharp hook punch with his other hand. From this punch alone, it was clear he was an excellent boxer. If this punch had landed on Ma Zhaodi's face, it would have rendered him unconscious.

But this punch was aimed at Batman.

Crack.

The sound of dislocation echoed. Batman easily reached out with his other hand, grabbed the supervisor's wrist, and dislocated his joint.

"Where is Donald?"

"Go to hell!"

This was clearly not a satisfactory answer.

So Batman grabbed the supervisor with one hand, walked to the broken window, took out his grappling gun, and leaped out with him.

"Ahhhhhh—"

Ma Zhaodi watched the shadow of the bat disappear into the Gotham night sky with the supervisor, silently shedding tears and roaring inwardly.

"Batman! I have an early class! I haven't even gotten my wages yet!"

At this moment, the sirens downstairs drowned out the sound of the heavy rain. Commissioner Gordon and his team rushed in, looking at the injured and disabled people scattered everywhere, and at Ma Zhaodi, standing there silently grieving, completely bewildered.

Why was there still someone standing this time? Had Batman converted to Buddhism?

"Age?"

"24, a restaurant server."

"Gender?"

"Male."

"Name?"

"Ma Zhaodi."

Looking at the still glaringly white light, Ma Zhaodi, who never smoked, suddenly felt the urge to light one.

"I just work there, sir. Why am I being brought back to the Gotham Police Department for interrogation?"

"Who told you to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Gordon shook his head and took out a cigarette. "I've never seen anyone as unlucky as you—mind if I smoke?"

"Go ahead, smoke," Ma Zhaodi listlessly took a Pocky stick from his pocket and put it in his mouth. "You can laugh too, I'm already like this anyway."

Gordon hadn't intended to laugh, but seeing Ma Zhaodi's current state, it was indeed a bit hard to resist. This was the first time he'd seen an innocent civilian get arrested by the Gotham PD twice in such a short period.

"This isn't a normal situation for you. You were at the scene when Richard Daniel was shot, you were there when Johnny Vitti was assassinated, and you were there when the factory's counterfeit money was burned. You even worked at that restaurant."

He turned his head and exhaled a puff of smoke. "You're new to Gotham City, and you're not a gang member, so your suspicion is lower. But your luck is just too much."

Ma Zhaodi sighed and finished his Pocky. "Forget it, forget it. Let's just finish recording the statement quickly."

I have to go to work tomorrow, he thought. I hope someone will pay me my wages.

The next day, Ma Zhaodi stood at the restaurant entrance, staring blankly at the locked door, a look of confusion on his face.

"Wait, where's my workplace?"