Friends

A broken spine?

The moment this topic came up, Miao Mu thought of someone: Bane, a highly intelligent and immensely powerful mercenary, and one of Gotham's supervillains.

That guy's greatest achievement had been breaking Batman's spine and nearly forcing Batman into retirement.

But Nygma's next words made Miao Mu dismiss the thought, because it had been a hammer that smashed the corpse's spine.

The two talked until evening. Bullock and the others had already paid and left. Clearly, Nygma's condescending tone had made his colleagues quite uncomfortable.

They had not even called him when they left, but that suited Miao Mu just fine. He got another police car from Captain Myers and could use it to take Nygma home.

"Jerry, give me the keys. Go back later—I'll come back and settle the bill." Miao Mu walked over and took the keys from Jerry, who was still chatting with those two girls.

Jerry probably had no idea how much they had spent here tonight. If he did, he would definitely find a way to skip out on the bill.

"Edward, let me take you home. Taxis are hard to catch in the Arkham District," Miao Mu said as he walked over with the keys.

Edward Nygma picked up the glasses from the table and put them on. Seeing Miao Mu being so enthusiastic, he felt a little embarrassed.

"This... is troubling you."

"It is my honor to be in the company of an elite talent such as yourself. This way," Miao Mu said, gesturing ahead.

Nygma might have been arrogant and sharp-tongued, but he truly could not hold his liquor. Before he had even finished three glasses of red wine, he was already somewhat drunk.

Miao Mu supported Nygma out of the Mexican restaurant, unlocked a police car parked by the roadside with the keys, and helped him into the vehicle.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Nygma raised a hand and rubbed his face. Miao Mu sat behind the wheel and started the engine.

"Edward, where do you live?"

Miao Mu turned the steering wheel to make a U-turn as he asked. The streets here were so narrow that even two cars could not pass side by side.

The headlights lit up the darkness ahead. Nygma leaned against the window and slowly rolled it down, letting the night breeze in.

Slowly exhaling the smell of alcohol, Nygma looked at the steel bridge drawing closer and smiled drunkenly.

"A diamond plate, a glowing fireplace, a place you never leave. Where am I?"

"Home!"

Miao Mu gave the answer without hesitation. Nothing made people feel safer than home.

"Hahahaha..." Nygma took off his glasses and laughed, clearly delighted. "You actually knew it!"

"You're the first person I've met who doesn't hate riddles. Those idiots always blame me when they can't find the answer, instead of realizing they're simply too stupid!"

Hearing that, Miao Mu chuckled softly. "Geniuses were never meant to be understood. If everyone could understand you, would you still be a genius? Those ordinary people will never understand you."

"Genius... Haha, you're right!"

Nygma held his gold-rimmed glasses as he gazed at the Gotham River. Its quiet ripples flashed past outside the car window.

"Miao Mu, thank you. You're the first interesting person I've ever met. You know, I... never had many friends."

"Now you do. Your friend, Miao Mu, is honored to take our genius Mr. Edward Nygma home!"

Miao Mu imitated a television host's tone, reading aloud in a bright tenor that made Nygma laugh again.

"32nd Street in the Lower East Side, Spite Apartments. Just take me there. I live in Room 32 on the fourth floor."

"OK, OK."

Miao Mu immediately turned on the police lights. The red and blue lights flashed atop the car, scaring quite a few people into running away the moment they entered the Lower East Side.

Spite Apartments was an old Gothic apartment building, the sort commonly seen in the Lower East Side. Black gargoyle statues decorated its roof.

Nygma got out of the police car and put on his glasses. Then he turned, leaned against the car window, and waved. "This was a wonderful night. Thank you, friend."

Miao Mu had just unfastened his seat belt when he heard that. He smiled in satisfaction as well. "Good night, friend!"

Watching Nygma enter the apartment building, Miao Mu pushed open the car door, stood by the street, took a box of KOOL slim cigars from his coat, and lit one with a lighter.

His wary gaze swept over the surroundings. Several shady-looking punks stood across the street. Miao Mu held the slim cigar between his fingers, flipped open his coat, and revealed the revolver at his waist.

The punks immediately left after seeing the revolver. In Gotham, rich people might be humiliated.

But anyone with a gun could earn a measure of "respect" wherever they went.

Inside the apartment building, Nygma returned home and skillfully switched on the lights. The room brightened.

He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and placed them on a cabinet beside another pair with black half-rims. The room was exceptionally tidy, and the bookshelves dividing the rooms were packed with books.

Nygma stood before an easel holding a finished oil painting. A palette and brushes lay beside it.

The painting depicted a man sitting on a sofa, staring at a green question mark before him. A string of words had been written across it in white paint:

I can fill an entire room or a heart. Others can possess me, but I cannot be shared.

"What am I?—Loneliness..."

Nygma silently looked at the painting and softly spoke the riddle's answer. Then he walked to the wall and lowered the needle onto the gramophone.

Gentle music began to play.

Noticing the swaying curtains by chance, Nygma went over to close the window. Yet he saw a blinking red dot in the darkness below and tilted his head to look outside.

When he saw that the police car was still parked where it had been, Nygma gave a surprised, quiet laugh and hurried to the wall to turn off the lights.

Just as Miao Mu was about to light another cigarette downstairs, he looked up and saw the lit fourth-floor window go dark. It seemed Nygma had gone to sleep, so he tossed away the cigarette butt.

Miao Mu yawned, scanned the surroundings once more, and only then drove the police car away.

Upstairs, Nygma watched the police car leave with a meaningful smile in his eyes.

The fewer friends one had, the more precious they became.

After leaving, the police car headed toward an even more rundown part of the Lower East Side. It was already well past midnight.

A black sedan was parked by the roadside. When it saw the approaching police car, it flashed its hazard lights.

The police car stopped, and Miao Mu got out and walked toward the sedan. Oswald, who had just returned from his shift at the Roman Casino, pushed open the car door and yawned.

"Officer, you really are busy. Here."

Oswald teased him as he took an envelope from the car and tossed it to Miao Mu. The envelope felt heavy.

"Thanks, you really helped me out!" Miao Mu quickly caught it.

"What did you do this time that you need money so urgently?"

Oswald leaned against the car, fitted a cigarette into a slim holder, and lit it.

Miao Mu waved the twenty thousand dollars in his hand. "I used this money to buy an SSS Card!"

"An SSS Card? What's that?" Oswald raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding what Miao Mu meant.

"Put it this way: I met someone incredibly capable. Up here." Miao Mu pointed at his head.

"If I'm an S, then his brain is worth three of mine. Do you know what that means? I've got a strategist!"

Upon hearing this, Oswald looked enlightened, as if he had figured something out. "Wait. You mean you used money to buy him off—anyway, you used this to buy off someone with an incredible brain."

Miao Mu nodded. The smug look and smile on his face were completely undisguised. He was genuinely happy.

Oswald licked his lips, as though he had made an extremely difficult decision. "I understand."

"What do you understand?" Miao Mu asked in confusion.

"Nothing... But." Oswald looked at the money in Miao Mu's hand and hesitated before asking, "Could you lend me a little less?"

"...What are you planning?"

"I know a few promising students, but they can't afford college. I want to... sponsor them through university!"

"You fucking—" Miao Mu forcibly swallowed the rest of his words. "A mobster wants to be a good person too?"

"Ten thousand! I can write you an IOU."

"Thanks!" Oswald accepted the ten thousand dollars and smiled awkwardly. "Those kids really are excellent students. It would be such a waste for them to stay in a dump like this."

"I believe you're making the right decision. If I had more money, I would do the same," Miao Mu said, patting Oswald on the shoulder.

"There's already a lead on the person you're looking for. He's called the Dollmaker. We'll investigate him soon. When the time comes, I'll have Otis notify you. Watch out for the rats around you."

"Rats?"

"Yes. You can prepare some small pieces of bread. If a light-brown rat comes looking for you, its name is Bastian, and it likes sweets."

Miao Mu smiled, waved, and walked toward the police car, leaving Oswald behind to ponder what the rat meant.