Promotion

"...Li Jie, please step forward. By the authority vested in me by the Constitution, it is my honor to promote you to sergeant of the Gotham City East End Police Department. Congratulations, Sergeant Li."

Bob removed the star-shaped officer's insignia from Li Jie's shoulder and replaced it with a metal insignia bearing three stripes.

"Sorry, son. Your family isn't here, so I've taken their place." He spoke quietly, gently patting the newly attached insignia before picking up a cross-shaped medal and pinning it to Li Jie's chest.

"...And to award you the Medal of Valor, in recognition of your bravery and sacrifice in several operations..."

"So? How does it feel to be a sergeant?"

"Not bad. This uniform's just a little too tight." Li Jie undid two buttons on his dress uniform and looked at Wilson, who was sitting in a wheelchair. "Thanks for coming today, but..."

He frowned, thinking back. "It's been two months. Shouldn't you be mostly recovered by now? How did you end up in a wheelchair?"

"Oh! Don't worry about that." Wilson sprang out of the wheelchair. "I just found that people usually let me get into elevators first when I'm sitting in this thing."

"You fucking..."

Li Jie shook his head and gestured at the people around them. "Come meet your seniors. Just about everyone here has more time on the job than you now."

"Don't listen to his bullshit. I'm a battle-hardened veteran." Anna was the first person Wilson spotted, and he offered her his hand. "Hey! Want to grab a drink later? Wait, Jay, is this your girl?"

"Of course not. She said she likes charming, well-spoken gentlemen, not foulmouthed louts like us."

Li Jie watched Anna give Wilson a delicate roll of her eyes, but Wilson didn't mind. He thumped Li Jie on the shoulder. "Hell, have you gotten bigger again?"

In fact, whenever Li Jie had any free time each day, he made the most of it by exercising to complete the system's level-up requirements. As he gradually progressed, the exercise had improved his physique as well.

"That's what wrestling lunatics does to you. Speaking of which, you'd better go back and keep resting."

"Oh, come on, Sergeant. I never imagined I'd miss work this much." Wilson shook his head miserably. "I'm so bored. Recovering at home is even more boring than staying in the hospital. And I have to put up with my mother and sister nagging me."

Li Jie glanced around at his colleagues in the office and beckoned Otis over.

"Otis, about your case-the boss... uh, no, the Chief has worked things out with the judge. It should go to court before long. I'll have Wilson help you..."

He suddenly stopped and gave it some serious thought. "If I let him help you, you'll never get your conviction overturned. Alan!"

"Here, sir!"

"If any lawyers or anyone else comes questioning Otis's status during this time, help him handle it. Officially, he's still an inmate at Blackgate Penitentiary, after all."

"Understood, sir." Alan saluted. "I'll take care of it."

"Thank you, thank you... sir!" The muscles in Otis's face trembled. "I... I..."

"Enough with the stammering." Li Jie patted his arm. "You promised you'd work for me to pay off your debt."

"No problem! S-sir!"

Otis stood at attention and gave a less-than-regulation salute. Li Jie's mouth twisted slightly as he continued:

"As for Central Headquarters... Nygma's transfer paperwork is finished. He should report to the East End in the next few days. But..."

He scratched his head in irritation. "I still haven't found space for the morgue and Forensics Division I promised him. I was planning to buy the office building next door. The building itself wouldn't cost much, but the renovations are too expensive..."

"Can't help you there. You'll have to figure it out yourself." Wilson shrugged. "Can't you really find me something to do?"

"Uh..." Li Jie looked at him for a while. "How about going undercover?"

"If you want me dead, just say so!"

Li Jie smiled at him and dropped the subject. Only after everyone had left the room did he pull out a sheet of paper and sketch Batman on it.

Judging by what he had seen at the Mad Hatter's place, young Master Wayne's current cosplay outfit wasn't particularly high-end. There was a bat emblem on his chest, but it wasn't rigid armor yet; the material looked like that of an ordinary bulletproof vest. Below the waist, at least, he wasn't wearing garish, brightly colored briefs, but tight leather trousers with a very pronounced crotch seam.

Give it a few more decades, and he and G.E.M. would probably have plenty to talk about.

"Tsk, tsk..." He studied the stick figure he had drawn, its round head topped with two triangular ears, its limbs made up of four thin lines, and a trapezoidal cape behind it.

"Well, if I applied to art school, I'd definitely get rejected too."

Young Master Bruce wants to come out and play at night, so I have to make sure he has a good time and enjoys himself. In the process, I also have to show him what the Eastern District Precinct does and how hard we have it. Otherwise, why would Master Wayne happily shower us with money the next morning?

This is so fucking hard.

He wrote a second name on the paper: CPS.

Ms. Erika Hale had called him a few days earlier. The accounts had essentially been sorted out, but the Mad Hatter had stirred up a citywide uproar at just the wrong time, leaving him no time to spare. He would have to find a moment soon to go over and see how things stood.

Getting involved in Child Protective Services projects to build his reputation had been an impulsive idea prompted by Harper and her brother, and it was also a good way to bring in money. But he would have to strike precisely the right balance to make CPS back down without openly falling out with them.

Third, he wrote down Carmine Falcone.

The Roman's empire was deeply rooted, and the mob godfather's foundations were far too solid. Killing him might not be difficult, but Gotham's entire underworld would swiftly descend into chaos and revelry. The handful of police officers he had would never be able to contain it. He would have to arrange a proxy capable of keeping the situation under control beforehand...

Looking at the names on the paper, Li Jie tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, lost in satisfied contemplation.

"Hm?"

Something suddenly felt wrong. He shot to his feet and strode toward the gold-framed mirror in the corner of the office.

The mirror was still too low to show the reflected man's face. All he could see was the man leaning back slightly, his belly unconsciously thrust out, as he spoke to Li Jie outside the mirror:

"Congratulations, kid."

"No," Li Jie whispered, his voice sounding faint and unfamiliar in the empty office.

That was Bob's habitual posture and tone.

Cold sweat poured down him, instantly soaking the back of his shirt.

"When did I pick up that habit from Bob?"

He lowered his head. On the desk sat not the old insulated mug worn shiny with use, but cold coffee. He looked out into the dark beyond the window. A fine rain fell steadily, the drops tapping against the glass, while neon lights bled through the curtain of rain like melting candy. The figure reflected in the window seemed to stretch its mouth into a bizarre, mocking grin.

Li Jie picked up the coffee, walked to the window, and poured the entire cup into the potted plant. The dark brown liquid seeped into the soil as though he were feeding the plant poison. He stood there for a long time, watching Gotham in the rain and wondering what he had become. Finally, he shook his head.

"Maybe it won't happen, right?"