Martin Thorwald, the warden of Blackgate Penitentiary, looked at the order to assist an investigation laid flat on his desk, then at the cop who had recently made something of a name for himself within the GCPD. His temples kept throbbing.
Although the official story was that the police had killed a band of terrorists planning an attack on Gotham, every senior officer knew they had meddled in the Roman's "family affairs." Worse, practically the whole thing, from beginning to end, had been set in motion by the kid standing before him. And to be fair, he really had risked his life trying to save Blackgate's guards during the prison transport hijacking. In theory, Thorwald should have owed him an enormous favor. Except not a single guard had survived.
"You do realize it's Sunday? Even God on this day... Forget it. Do whatever you want! But remember, don't cause trouble!" Caulder rubbed his neck and dialed an internal number. A guard immediately hurried in and saluted him.
"Sir!"
"Morrison, take him inside and keep an eye on him. As long as he doesn't try to incite a jailbreak, blow up a cell block, or start some kind of brotherhood with the inmates..." He paused, apparently checking whether he had missed any other horrifying possibilities. "Let him see whoever he wants. But make absolutely sure nothing goes wrong!"
"Yes, sir!"
Morrison saluted again and extended an arm toward Li Jie, straight as a ruler. "Please follow me." He turned and strode out of the office. Li Jie hastily jumped up, made a sloppy gesture somewhere between a salute and a wave in Caulder's direction, and hurried after him.
During his two days of rest at home after leaving the hospital, he suddenly received a system message for the first time in ages.
[Your actions brought forward Fish Mooney's death.] [You changed Fish Mooney's fate to a · degree. Gained 1 skill point.]
Huh? Looks like Victor Zsasz probably killed that crazy bitch, and that triggered the reward. Bringing her death forward only counted as a minor change, too. In other words, she hadn't escaped her originally destined ending.
He thought he had more or less figured out the system's requirements. Moving a turning point in someone's fate forward or backward counted as a minor change; changing the direction of their life counted as a major one.
What a cheapskate! Why couldn't I get one of those systems that handed out storage dimensions, magical treasures, the Eight-Nine Arcane Art, and the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation after just a few days of check-ins?
All systems lead to Rome, huh? Other people's systems were born in Rome. Mine can't even beat the Roman!
After rolling around in bed and grumbling for a while, he decided to stop dwelling on things that only annoyed him. Early the next morning, as previously arranged, he took the paperwork requesting assistance with an investigation and headed straight to Blackgate Penitentiary.
He sat behind the table in the visiting room, listening as two iron doors outside were pulled open in succession. A middle-aged man walked in, handcuffed and numb-faced. Deep wrinkles carved by years of malnutrition and despair covered his face. His prison uniform had faded almost white, and his hair was dry and disheveled. Expressionless, Morrison pushed him up to the table, then withdrew.
Another series of metallic clangs sounded as the doors outside were locked. Li Jie gestured toward the chair opposite him. The middle-aged man stared at him blankly, shuffled a few timid steps forward, and touched the chair's back. He looked up at Li Jie again before finally lowering himself cautiously into the seat.
"I'm an officer with the Gotham Police Department's Eastern District Precinct. We don't have much time, so I'll get straight to the point." Li Jie pushed the coffee on the table toward the middle-aged man. "You were sentenced to ten years for second-degree murder, and you've served five. But I've recently been reviewing old case files, and based on..."
He took a notebook from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, opened it, and glanced down. "Your life before the incident, what other people said about you, the crime scene report, the integrity of the physical evidence chain, and the process of your arrest and trial, this case is riddled with errors and inconsistencies. The logic doesn't hold together. So I believe there's a very good chance you were wrongfully convicted."
"You kept appealing for years, but every appeal vanished without a trace. Nobody paid attention. Around seven to nine months ago, your appeals gradually stopped." Li Jie looked at him solemnly. "So I came today to ask you, Otis Flanagan: do you still want to overturn your conviction?"
The middle-aged man went rigid, staring straight into Li Jie's eyes. A storm seemed to brew in his clouded pupils, while bottomless fear churned beneath it. Time seemed to freeze for a dozen seconds. Slowly, he lowered his head, laid his face on the table, and buried it between his arms. His shoulders and back began to shake, harder and harder, until he could no longer suppress the sobs in his throat. They became great, wrenching cries, tears and snot streaming down his face.
Li Jie didn't stop him. He simply let him vent. Before transmigrating, he had known about this rat-controlling villain and had even embarrassed himself by confusing him with the Pied Piper from Grimm's Fairy Tales. He wasn't sure whether he could recruit this potential superhuman ahead of time, but Otis's murder conviction really was a miscarriage of justice! Helping overturn it would not only save an innocent soul but also plant a useful piece on Gotham's board in advance. However he looked at it, he stood to gain.
His gaze passed over a corner of the room. Several rats poked their heads out of the shadows, anxiously sniffing the air as though sensing the upheaval in Otis's emotions.
The near-hysterical wailing continued for about a minute before gradually giving way to sobs interspersed with dry heaves. His body still shook violently, as if he were trying to cough up his insides. Li Jie tapped the table and tossed him two tissues.
"Hey! Don't get too worked up yet. To be honest, I don't actually have evidence proving you weren't the killer..."
"I wasn't. I didn't kill anyone. That short man had been stabbed twice. He was holding his stomach, bleeding so much... He ran toward me... Then he suddenly collapsed right in front of me. I..."
Otis jerked his head up and shouted himself hoarse. "I can't forget it, day or night. The blood... Blood everywhere... It wasn't me! I didn't kill him..."
His voice gradually weakened, dissolving into sobs again.
"Enough. Are you going to waste all our time blubbering like a woman?" Li Jie lightly slapped the table. "Think this through. If we fail to overturn your conviction, you could face retaliation. They might extend your sentence or make life in here even harder. I won't be able to protect you then. Consider it carefully."
"I want to overturn it! I want to appeal, officer!" Otis abruptly stopped crying. His voice wasn't loud, but it was unusually firm. "Whether it works or not, I won't regret it. Whatever happens, I will never regret it! I... I'll always be grateful to you, officer."
"Save the gratitude for later. This is going to be a real challenge." Li Jie gave a grunt. "Keep your mouth shut when you get back. Don't say anything to anyone—and I mean anyone! I'll come take you to the Police Department in the next few days so we can reopen the investigation."
"I understand! Thank you, thank you!"
Otis watched Li Jie press the call bell on the table. A piercing buzzer sounded, followed by the clattering of the iron door behind him. Morrison walked in.
"Come on, Flanagan. Back to your hole."
Otis shuddered and returned to his original numb, timid state, following cautiously behind the guard. Just before stepping out, he suddenly turned and bowed deeply to Li Jie. Then he quickly straightened and followed Morrison into the dark corridor outside without looking back. The sounds of footsteps and shackles gradually faded.
"Shit, what was that?" Li Jie slapped his forehead. "I just told you to keep it secret! Fuck! You need practice!"
Early Monday morning, Li Jie put on his freshly washed black uniform and carefully inspected himself in the mirror. His landlord's mirror was too short to show anything above his neck, but that burly physique and upright bearing clearly belonged to no ordinary man.
"Good! Looking sharp!" He nodded emphatically at his face, somewhere above the mirror. A new week would surely bring new trouble. He would deal with whatever came his way!
When he fought his way off the packed bus and made it to the Police Department, he found Chief Bob standing at the entrance. Judging by the cigarette butts on the ground, he had been waiting a while.
"Boss? You're not here just to welcome me, are you? I don't think I'm late?" Li Jie checked his watch uncertainly and breathed a sigh of relief. "Still fifteen minutes."
"Come with me."
Bob spoke quietly and led him toward the parking lot. "Loeb called me first thing this morning. He said Falcone wanted to express his gratitude to the Police Department, and specifically requested your presence."
They reached Bob's Taurus. Bob tossed him the keys and got into the back seat.
"You'd better stay alert today. Brown from the West District Precinct was told to bring someone along too. Last time you... Hey! Hey! Go easy on the gearshift! This is a new car!" Bob cracked the window to let the cigarette smoke drift out. "You refused his request last time. I'm guessing he wants to embarrass you in front of the whole Police Department?"
"Whatever. It's not like I have much of a reputation anyway. Surely he won't get into a public shouting match with some lowly cop." Li Jie turned the wheel all the way and drove out of the parking lot. Traffic was terrible at that hour. It took nearly an hour to crawl to Central Headquarters.
Li Jie parked and trailed closely behind Bob. The Eastern District Precinct chief was in his element here, sticking out his belly as he hugged one person and shook another's hand. Whether they were sergeants, inspectors, Police Lieutenants, or even corporals who only led a small squad, he had a few enthusiastic words for everyone.
"Hey, Gillian!"
"Hey, Bob!"
The two chiefs pumped their arms up and down, shaking hands vigorously like old friends who hadn't seen each other in years.
"Let me see. So this is the man Mr. Falcone specifically asked to meet." Loeb looked him up and down. Li Jie immediately snapped to attention and gave a regulation salute.
"Police Officer II Li Jie of the Gotham Police Department's Eastern District Precinct, reporting, sir!"
"No need to be so formal. We haven't started yet." Loeb patted his arm, then looked at Bob. "A fine young man, isn't he?"
"Absolutely." Bob shook another cigarette out of his pack and lit it, then asked quietly, "What's the Roman planning with all this fanfare?"
"Nothing much. Mr. Falcone is simply donating another five hundred thousand to the department in recognition of the Gotham Police Department's outstanding work," Loeb said smugly. "Hey, Arthur!"
Arthur Brown, chief of the West District Precinct, joined them. The three men headed toward the Police Department lobby, looking like the closest of friends, but Li Jie noticed that Bob's expression had soured.
He could guess at least part of the reason. After all that scheming and hard work, Bob had pocketed less than two hundred thousand. Meanwhile, Central Headquarters had done nothing and somehow received a five-hundred-thousand-dollar donation, at least half of which would end up in Loeb's own pocket. With such a gulf between their achievements in corruption, how could the fiercely competitive Chief Bob feel good about it?
A small speaking platform had been set up in the center of the lobby, with a circle of chairs nearby. Most of the Police Department's officers had been summoned, however, and stood scattered farther away. He saw Nygma coming down the second-floor stairs with a stack of documents. They greeted each other from a distance and exchanged smiles. James Gordon stood beside a pillar in a corner of the first floor. Li Jie waved, but Gordon ignored him.
Their colleagues from the Technical Division were still making final adjustments to the microphone on the platform, producing occasional bursts of electrical squealing. Standing behind Bob, Li Jie stepped back a little farther so the height difference between him and the three chiefs wouldn't look quite so ridiculous. Just then, a commotion broke out at the entrance, and the crowd parted. A bald man as gaunt as a skeleton led the way, followed by a tall elderly man with a steady stride and four bodyguards.
"Mr. Falcone!"
Most officers present looked frightened at the sight of the group, while Loeb, Bob, and Brown hurried forward to greet them. As the two sides exchanged pleasantries, Victor Zsasz fixed his gaze on Li Jie's face, undisguised excitement gleaming in his eyes.
Being watched so eagerly by another man made Li Jie uncomfortable all over.
What a fucking freak. If Chinese-Style Iai weren't still on cooldown, I'd damn well teach you what a bloody beating looked like. Fortunately, Loeb and Falcone stepped onto the platform just then.
"All right, let's begin! Thank you, Mr. Falcone, for visiting the Gotham Police Department..."
Loeb spoke briefly, then stood with Falcone, both holding the large envelope containing the five-hundred-thousand-dollar check and smiling for the flashing cameras. After the applause and insincere cheers died down, Falcone suddenly took the microphone.
"I would also like to thank one particular officer. Although he only recently joined the Police Department, he has already far surpassed its veteran officers. Single-handedly, he held off an elite squad of thugs. As a token of encouragement and gratitude, I will personally present him with a fifty-thousand-dollar reward. That officer is Li Jie of the Eastern District Precinct!"
The room instantly fell silent. Only gazes filled with envy, hatred, contempt, or disdain stabbed at Li Jie like swords from every direction.
He slowly rose. Only after Loeb and Bob took the lead did scattered, halfhearted applause begin around him.
So that's your game, you old bastard.
Li Jie climbed onto the platform in a few strides and posed with Falcone, displaying the prepared check for the reporters. Then Falcone pushed the microphone into his hand.
"Now, let us give our young hero the floor."
Smiling, he stepped down and sat beside Loeb. Whether Li Jie accepted or denied the praise, the seeds of ostracism had already been planted. He would find it difficult to gain any support within the Police Department now.
"Ahem... Thank you to all the leaders and colleagues of the Gotham Police Department, and to Mr. Falcone, for giving me this opportunity." Li Jie cleared his throat and surveyed the room, speaking slowly and enunciating clearly. "It's true that I have achieved certain results. But these achievements were not mine alone."
"First, I must thank Chief Gillian Loeb of the Gotham Police Department and Chief Bob McGinnis of the Eastern District Precinct. Without their wise leadership and decisive command, this operation could never have achieved such remarkable results. In our everyday work, they..."
"Second, I must thank all my colleagues at Gotham Police Department Central Headquarters, the precincts, and SWAT. Your dedication and hard work gave me the support I needed to face the terrorists' guns without flinching. I must especially thank Detective James Gordon of Central Headquarters, who charged ahead fearlessly and opened a route for reinforcements in time. I must also thank SWAT for arriving promptly and rounding up every criminal..."
"Third, I must thank Gotham City's public-spirited citizens. Without their willingness to brave danger, call the police, provide cover, and move the wounded, the casualties might have been far greater. This also demonstrates the importance of the unity between police and citizens that our Police Department's leaders always emphasize..."
"Finally, I must thank the renowned philanthropist, Mr. Falcone. His support for the Police Department has done a tremendous amount to safeguard and maintain order in Gotham City. I would like to say that he has always been an elder I respect and a role model I strive to learn from."
"And so, following Mr. Falcone's example, I will donate these fifty thousand dollars to establish a fund supporting the families of Gotham Police Department officers killed or injured in the line of duty. I also welcome more kindhearted people to join us in bringing some comfort to the officers and citizens injured in the fight against crime."
Only when he finished those words did genuine, thunderous applause erupt below the platform. Amid the incessant flashes of cameras, it swelled and continued without fading. At first, Falcone sat dumbfounded, his face livid, unable to utter a word. Before long, however, he shook his head with a wry smile and joined the applause, asking Loeb:
"The kid looks like a bear. How is he as cunning as a fox?"
Before you continue