The star-rated hotel called the Apex had spacious rooms and sweeping views overlooking part of the city. Yet as Li Jie lay on a bed big enough to hold three or four of him, he kept feeling an indescribable gloom hanging in the air.
Gotham's chaos seethed like a pot of poison that never stopped boiling. Star City's gloom was more like rotten sludge accumulated beneath stagnant water: calm on the surface, but slowly fermenting and spoiling underneath.
He buried himself in the covers and slept for three hours before getting up refreshed, changing into something comfortable, and leaving the hotel.
Star City at night confirmed his impression. There were few pedestrians on the streets, and most hurried along with the numb expressions of people repeatedly battered by life. Neon lights still flickered, but they seemed to shine through frosted glass. The graffiti on the neighborhood walls felt less like art than silent protests and desperate cries.
Yet beneath that lifelessness, he could indeed see small signs of resistance. For instance, fiercely worded leaflets on a street-corner poster board accused Queen Consolidated of colluding with City Hall to force a neighborhood factory out of business.
These acts of resistance were small and scattered, like weeds struggling to sprout from barren soil. Fragile, yet possessed of a vitality that refused to die.
That would take some guts in Gotham.
Li Jie nodded at the thought. At least, he had never seen anyone dare hand out leaflets about Wayne Enterprises on the street. Bruce Wayne might not care at all, but the government, citing the need to maintain a stable business environment...
He wandered into a bar called the Wildcat. In stark contrast to the quiet outside, the bar buzzed with voices and pounding music. Alcohol, perfume, and body heat mingled in