This shouldn't be happening

"All right, done. Enjoy yourselves."

Hidden in a corner of the club, Zuo Ci watched Maroni, who was already surrounded by burly men and looked utterly pitiful, helpless, and weak. He nodded in satisfaction, then slipped away without a sound.

Zuo Ci was a man of his word. He always did what he said he would. Since he'd said he would strip them naked, write "Welcome" on their bodies, and dump them in a gay club, that was exactly what he would do.

"I won't record it this time. Gordon already has enough on his plate. I shouldn't give him any more trouble.

Come to think of it, I've been here so long, but I haven't really wandered around town yet. I've got nothing to do right now, and Jack's at the shop, so I might as well look around."

At that thought, Zuo Ci tapped his shoes together. With a click, four wheels instantly sprang out of the soles.

Living in Gotham without a vehicle wasn't an option. But Zuo Ci didn't have a local driver's license, and he wasn't particularly fond of motorcycles or bicycles. After weighing his options, he'd decided roller skates were the most practical choice.

After all, most vehicles couldn't match their built-in nitrous boost.

Zuo Ci had actually considered using a wheelchair at first, but the mental image seemed a little too unhinged, so he'd dropped the idea.

"With all Batman's wonderful little gadgets, I wonder if he has a pair of Bat-skates too?"

Letting his thoughts wander, Zuo Ci roamed aimlessly through the streets.

Unfortunately, it was already late. Most of the shops had closed, and there was hardly anyone in sight, only litter strewn across the ground and drifting in the wind.

"Forget it. Nothing fun out here. I'll head back."

After wandering for a while, Zuo Ci yawned in boredom. Having lost interest in continuing, he turned to head back to the shop and sleep.

But shortly after he turned around, a few snowflakes landed on the back of his hand.

Then, as though someone had knocked over a can of paint, the snow came down harder and harder, soon turning into a flurry of thick, feathery flakes.

"It's snowing..."

Watching the snowflakes swirl through the sky, Zuo Ci finally remembered that it seemed to be winter in Gotham already.

"Come to think of it, Christmas isn't far off. I'd better start getting ready when I get back and change the shop's decorations."

Looking at the road, which was already turning white beneath a layer of snow, Zuo Ci rubbed his hands thoughtfully.

His little shop still had the decor supplied by the system. There was nothing wrong with it, but it wasn't particularly distinctive either.

Since winter had arrived and Christmas was just around the corner, it was time he put in some work and changed the decorations.

"Should I get a few Christmas trees ready ahead of time?"

As he thought, Zuo Ci fitted snow chains onto the wheels beneath his feet, then made his way leisurely toward the shop.

With snow coming down this heavily tonight, there probably wouldn't be much crime.

"Cough... cough, cough..."

"Huh? Where's that coughing coming from?"

Zuo Ci had barely skated any distance before he heard a few faint coughs.

He'd already checked. There wasn't anyone on this street, so where had the coughing come from?

After listening carefully for a moment, Zuo Ci realized the sound seemed to be coming from a nearby alley.

Curious, Zuo Ci turned and headed over. He soon found the source of the sound, curled up beside a dumpster.

It was a homeless person. More precisely, it was a child.

He looked only twelve or thirteen. His small body was curled up amid a pile of garbage, and his clothes were so ragged they offered no protection against the cold.

He wasn't alone, either. His hands, covered in chilblains, were wrapped around a skeletal old dog. They huddled together, clinging to what little warmth they could find.

He was so weak and so inconspicuous that even Zuo Ci hadn't noticed him at first, mistaking him for garbage.

"This kid..."

Seeing the unmistakably unnatural flush on his face, Zuo Ci bent down and felt his forehead.

"He's burning up. A fever, just as I thought, and a bad one."

Zuo Ci fell silent as he looked at him.

The weather wasn't all that cold yet, but within an hour at most, the temperature would drop. The boy was so weak and still running a fever. No matter how he looked at it, he wouldn't survive.

"This..."

Zuo Ci didn't know what to say. He simply fed him some fast-acting fever medicine he'd bought from the system store in silence.

The system certainly lived up to its name. The medicine it produced really worked. Less than a minute after the boy took it, his fever subsided, and his breathing grew much steadier.

For some reason, even though he'd cured the boy, Zuo Ci still felt a tightness in his chest.

Although he'd been in Gotham for a while, this was the first time Zuo Ci had truly encountered the people at the very bottom of the city.

Apart from spending a night in the East End on his first day, he'd never returned here. His shop was in an upper-middle-class neighborhood. Although he occasionally saw homeless people there, at least they were reasonably clothed and didn't look quite so listless.

But now...

Zuo Ci picked the boy up and held him tightly in his arms.

The old dog the boy had been holding shakily rose to his feet as well. He seemed to sense that Zuo Ci wasn't a bad person, so he didn't bark. He just awkwardly rubbed against Zuo Ci's trouser leg, then limped along behind him.

"I can't just leave him here. Even with his fever gone, he won't make it."

"Cough... cough, cough..."

Perhaps stirred by the motion as Zuo Ci walked, the boy blearily opened his eyes. He saw Zuo Ci's face, obscured by darkness and impossible to make out.

Normally, most children would have been at least a little frightened by such a sight, but this boy wasn't.

He merely reached out his little hand with a hint of anticipation, wanting to touch him, only to hesitate halfway and draw it back.

"Are you... are you Mr. Death, here to take me away?"

Zuo Ci's steps faltered, and for some reason, the ache in his chest grew worse.

"Mr. Death... can... can you put Bruce down? He isn't sick. Leave my body there too. If he eats me, he'll be able to survive.

So... so could you just take me? Bruce will definitely be able to survive..."

The boy mustered his courage and voiced his wish. Though his voice grew fainter and fainter, every word struck hard against Zuo Ci's heart.

"Go to sleep. No one's going to die. Not you, and not Bruce."

"R-really?"

"Really. I promise."

With that reassurance, the boy drifted back to sleep. The old dog named Bruce made no sound, either, simply continuing to follow quietly behind Zuo Ci.

"Heh..."

Gazing at the thick snow falling from the sky, Zuo Ci let out a long sigh, his chest tight.

He was going to have his work cut out for him tonight.