"Who needs enemies when you have friends like that?"
Who said that, and who they were talking about, Ma Zhaodi couldn't remember. But when he heard those words, the first image that came to mind was the person standing before him.
Batman had indeed lived up to expectations, proving time and time again that those words described him perfectly.
Just listen to what he had said. Three sentences. The first concerned surveilling an innocent citizen of Gotham City—a poor man whose wife was suffering from a serious illness. That man was Drake. The second concerned surveilling his best friend, and one of his most reliable allies: Harvey Dent. The third concerned Ma Zhaodi himself, who was suspected of possibly being the Pumpkin Man.
Did that sound like something a good guy would do? It certainly didn't. But when it was Batman doing it, it immediately seemed perfectly reasonable.
If Ma Zhaodi had any counter-surveillance skills, calling them nonexistent would have been generous. He was just an ordinary short-story writer. Whether it was wiretapping or signal blocking, he relied entirely on the software functions built into his computer and phone. But clearly, those tricks weren't much use against Batman.
He didn't even know when a bug had been planted on him. And the fact that he had never been able to eavesdrop at all was the most obvious problem.
"Where did you put the bug?"
"It was burned up."
fnndp. Not a single word Batman said could be trusted.
"Since you've been keeping an eye on me, hiding it would be pointless anyway, right?"
Ma Zhaodi gave a self-mocking smile and swore to himself that he would mind his own business more in the future. "That's right. I did steal the bounty Falcone gave the Irish Mob—the nine thousand dollars I