Realizing how serious the situation was, William stopped smiling.
Chris wasn't just being polite.
More than having to do it himself, he dreaded seeing William stain his hands with blood to help him.
"Boss, I understand your pain. You don't have to force a smile in front of me. I can already see your tears. This is my fault..."
The hulking man, all six feet seven inches of him, started comforting William instead.
But setting aside the sensitivity hidden beneath his quiet exterior, he had seriously misunderstood the situation.
Now even Renee joined in, trying to convince William that there was no need to turn to crime over a momentary impulse.
William glanced at Morse, who lay at his feet with his hands tied behind his back.
With his mouth gagged, he squirmed back and forth like an injured maggot.
"Kids, do you really intend to let someone like this live? Never mind that we're all finished if he reports us. Have you forgotten that face smashed to pieces with an ashtray?"
"Boss, you don't have to..."
"I'm not just saying this to go along with you. In a hellhole like Gotham, if you want to punish the wicked, you have to be worse than they are. Just like Batman."
"Batman doesn't kill people, does he?"
"Vigilante violence, unlawful imprisonment. He just drew a line for himself. At heart, he's still a criminal who fights violence with violence. Can you deny that?"
As he talked his way through it, William frantically searched for a solution.
He knew that to complete the mission, he had to eliminate Chris's guilt over killing.
What should I do?
He suddenly remembered that there were still a few rubber bullets in the patrol car for riot control.
"I've got a good idea. One blank, one