Arkham Police Department.
Gordon, who had endured a full day and night in the holding room, walked out with a camera in hand, his expression grave.
"Did you get it done?"
Miao Mu stood by the hallway in a black sleeveless shirt, a cigarette in hand.
But judging by Gordon's expression, it had probably gone smoothly.
"Enough to put them in prison ten times over."
Gordon tossed the camera to Miao Mu and sat directly on the floor, looking somewhat lost.
"Have a smoke. Don't look so defeated. With this, they'll all have to show you some respect. Once this is handled, you can make sweeping reforms."
Miao Mu handed Gordon a cigarette, lit another for himself, and removed the memory card from the camera.
Although Nygma had already made more than a dozen backups of its contents, they still had to go through the proper procedure.
"Miao Mu, what is justice..." Gordon sat on the floor with a cigarette between his lips, staring at the ceiling in dejection.
"Who knows? Everyone defines it differently. I'm not doing this for justice. I just want to live more comfortably."
"Here's your gun. Tonight and tomorrow, if we survive, Gotham gets a new beginning. If we don't, remember to leave your last words."
Miao Mu smiled and tossed the Modified Glock 17 to Gordon.
Gordon caught the pistol and expertly chambered a round.
He checked the magazine, then casually wiped at the mustache above his lips. It had not been trimmed for days and looked especially unkempt.
"What's the situation outside?"
Gordon stood up, all traces of despondency gone from his face. Once he entered work mode, he was exceptionally serious.
"Batman handled part of it. The Iron Framework Bridge has been raised, and Arkham District is now an isolated island. Oh,