Inside the Bar

As they walked into the bar, they were hit by dazzling lights that made their eyes swim, along with the deafening noise.

Miao Mu and the others stood at the entrance, tilting their heads as they adjusted before looking around. At the center stood a massive octagonal cage, where two muscular brutes, one black and one white, were brawling.

Every punch landed with solid force, sending blood flying. Sweat poured from their bodies, glinting beneath the lights.

They were like two savage lions locked together, fangs tearing into flesh and exposing bloody meat before they slammed viciously into the octagonal cage, spraying sweat and droplets of blood.

Quite a few people around them were roaring over that primitive violence. On a large screen nearby were the betting odds.

Bloody. Violent.

It was cruel enough to make anyone flinch at a glance, but amid the ear-splitting music and the synchronized cheers around them—

That wild rush of surging hormones sent dopamine racing through their brains, leaving the audience as excited as if they were high.

"Want something to drink?" Miao Mu gestured with his thumb toward the bar counter on the right.

"You have money?" Gordon raised a brow.

"You're treating, and he's paying!" Miao Mu pointed at Milo, who was still stunned by the underground-fighting cage.

Gordon turned to look at him as well and nodded.

"I think that works."

So the two of them walked over to the counter and looked at the wooden drink board hanging above it, which listed the prices.

"Two beers, with ice! What do you want?" Miao Mu asked, turning to Gordon.

Gordon adjusted his glasses. The people seated on either side of the counter were all staring at the two of them with unfriendly expressions.

"Whiskey."

"Okay, two beers and one whiskey."

Miao Mu sat on a barstool and spoke to the waitress behind the counter, who wore eye shadow and had a heart-shaped sticker on her face.

"Here. And your shirt is cute, by the way."

The waitress smiled as she set down two huge mugs of beer and slid them over, casually taking the bill Gordon had pulled out.

Miao Mu looked down at the pink cat on his T-shirt, then placed a hand on the counter and smiled. "I have a pink girlish heart too."

As he spoke, he tugged at his T-shirt, making it bounce twice like a heartbeat, which made the waitress laugh.

Watching Miao Mu flirt, Gordon could not help shaking his head as he reached for his whiskey.

Young people... they just loved fooling around...

Gordon picked up his glass, only for a large hand reaching in from the side to pin it against the counter. The back of that hand bore a snarling dog-head tattoo.

Gordon shot a glare to the side. It was a burly man with a gold tooth in his mouth, grinning maliciously like a Shar-Pei standing on its hind legs.

"I think I smell..." The burly man closed his eyes, wrinkled his nose, and sniffed hard a few times. "...the scent of a cop!"

"Heh—ptui!"

A glob of spit flew over Gordon's head and landed on the burly man's face, making him snap his eyes open. They were red with rage.

"Who was that?!"

"Me. What about it?" Miao Mu leaned against the bar, his face full of irritation. He looked even more arrogant than a street thug.

"You!"

The burly man slapped Gordon aside, who was blocking his path, and gritted his teeth as he went after Miao Mu. He was going to shove this bastard's head into the bar's toilet!

Gordon, who had been shoved aside, did not look pleased either. He swung a punch straight into the man's face, kicked his leg at the same time, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back in a hold.

Caught completely off guard, the burly man took the punch before he could retaliate. Pain shot through his leg, his balance gave out, and he crashed to the floor. Then pain flared in his arm, and he knew he was in trouble.

His many experiences in prison told him that this was a veteran. Once they grabbed you like this, the handcuffs came next!

And that was indeed what happened. Gordon reached for his waist out of habit, intending to grab his handcuffs, but came up empty...

He had not brought them with him. They were still in the car. Instead, his hand found the grip of his pistol.

The sight made the people around them tremble. Was he really about to shoot someone? This was a little too exciting, wasn't it?

The burly man pinned to the floor realized immediately when he did not feel handcuffs being put on him and began struggling to crawl away.

Beside them, Miao Mu picked up his beer, tugged at his waistband, tilted his head back, and gulped it all down.

Then he let out a burp and grinned at the waitress, who was peering curiously out from behind the bar.

Gripping the beer mug by its handle, Miao Mu swung it like a hammer and smashed it into the burly man's head with a loud clang.

The glass mug was sturdy and did not break, but the burly man promptly went to sleep. He stopped struggling and embraced an angel's tenderness.

Miao Mu looked at the beer mug, set it back on the counter, and asked the waitress, "Is fighting allowed here?"

"No problem. But if you kill someone, you'll be thrown out back to feed the fish. There are sharks back there."

The waitress smiled as she collected the empty cups, pinched her own neck, and mimed hanging herself.

"Hehe, great whites?"

Miao Mu laughed teasingly. Come to think of it, beneath Penguin's future territory, the Iceberg Lounge, there was a great white shark used to punish disobedient underlings.

With that in mind, Miao Mu glanced around and casually asked, "Whose turf is this?"

The waitress looked at him, then at Gordon sitting beside him, seemingly hesitating over whether to answer.

"Look at this..." The waitress picked up a bottle of wine and pointed to the brand logo on it, hinting to Miao Mu.

It was a bottle of Italian red wine with a circular emblem. When the waitress raised a hand over it, it resembled a human silhouette.

The Roman!

Miao Mu understood at once. The Roman, Falcone. Thinking about it carefully, only Gotham's mafia godfather had the means to run a place like this.

Miao Mu turned around and looked toward the octagonal cage, where a victor had already been decided.

Inside lay someone who looked like a blood-soaked gourd. He was dragged away by the legs, and no one knew whether he was being taken to a hospital or thrown into the sea behind the building to feed sharks.

The latter seemed more likely.

Looking around again, the place was practically packed with villains, hooligans, scoundrels, gangsters, and a few thrill-seeking youths.

It was rather like a tavern in a game, constantly spawning whatever thug NPCs you needed. Maybe... it really was a recruitment ground for the underworld.

Thinking that, Miao Mu craned his neck and looked around, hoping to get lucky and run into a few "acquaintances."

"Brother Miao, what should we do with this brat?" Milo walked over with a dark expression, carrying a teenage boy by the collar while gritting his teeth and rubbing his crotch.

He did not learn a single good thing, but picked up every bad thing at a glance.

That kick earlier had nearly sent Milo face-to-face with his long-dead great-great-great... great-grandmother.

"..."

Miao Mu looked speechlessly at the boy, who had a black eye and appeared to be only thirteen or fourteen, perhaps even younger.

The boy gave him an awkward grin, still wearing a cheeky expression.

One look told Miao Mu that he came from the slums. He was all too familiar with the type. There were plenty of homeless people there, and no shortage of street children.

As for Gotham's orphanages... they were not places for humans. Every kid who went in came out a villain. A true spawn point.

And Milo's resentful stare made Miao Mu feel a little guilty. He had to stand up for his underling!

"Brat! You've really pissed me off. Tell me, how do you want to die?"

Miao Mu put on a stern face, pulled a revolver from his waist, and slammed it onto the counter with a clang.

The customers near the corner of the bar flinched, because the dark muzzle happened to be pointed straight at them.

Those customers cursed under their breaths and moved away with their drinks. They were bad guys, but they were not idiots.

If the gun went off by accident, that would be a truly miserable death.

"I... I don't want to die," the boy said dejectedly.

"No. Everyone dies eventually. You have to choose. So tell me, brat! Any last words?"

"I..." The boy opened his mouth and thought seriously about it. It seemed he really did not have any last words to say.

"Go ahead and shoot," the boy said resignedly.

"...That's not how this script goes. You're supposed to beg me, right? Beg me to let you go, then beg me to spare your life."

"..."

Now it was the boy's turn to be speechless. This... big brother? He did not even know what to call Miao Mu. Why did this guy seem a little slow in the head?

"Stop scaring him. What's your name? Where do you live? Where are your parents? Why are you here?" Gordon turned and asked.

That was pure veteran-cop style—a full set of questions, even more thorough than checking someone's personal records.

"I-I'm Jason. I live in Crime Alley..."

"Wait, what's your name?" Miao Mu interrupted.

"Jason. Jason Todd."