"If you're an outstanding criminal, or working hard to become one, come to Gotham. It will fulfill every criminal fantasy you have about scale and methods."
"From fraud and theft to armed violence, you might even find some lunatic strapping explosives all over you, making you guess his tedious riddles while the ticking countdown drives you out of your mind."
"The crime-ridden East End, the sewers teeming with filth, Blackgate Penitentiary, city hall... oh, I almost forgot Arkham Asylum, wrapped in layer upon layer of rusty barbed wire! Plenty of people like you have checked those places off their lists. Trust me, they won't disappoint."
"Wait... what's that? You're worried that freak in tights and a bat cowl will come after you? Hahahaha, you must be joking. This isn't a comic book or a novel."
"The seeds of idealism can't bloom in sludge steeped in poison."
"Oh, right! Since we're on the subject, let me say a little more."
"Many people consider Falcone the man who murdered the Wayne family, while a few believe it was the work of the Court of Owls. After all, Wayne Enterprises' plan to revitalize Gotham threatened those elites' standing in the city. But take my advice: stay out of it. Don't even ask about it!"
"Well, that concludes the introduction. I hope you enjoy your stay in Gotham."
Qin Wei jolted awake from the familiar dream, the yellowed sheet beneath him soaked with cold sweat.
Clutching his throbbing head, he stepped out of his room. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, and the damp, pungent smell of mold hit him, tinged with something sour. It was like having a tin of peanuts ten years past their expiration date clamped over his head.
He could barely breathe.
The corridor was narrow and dim. Sounds spilled out from behind peeling wooden doors: the static of an old television, arguments, and a prostitute's dutiful moaning.
He entered the bathroom at the end of the corridor, where the dull yellow light flickered between light and darkness.
Amid the heavy stench of urine, Qin Wei cupped some water and scrubbed his face hard, finally clearing his head a little.
He had been in this body for three full months, but the unfamiliar face in the mirror still startled him every time.
It was the face of a Western man, with dry, curling dark brown hair and bloodshot gray eyes in deep sockets. This face was considerably more handsome than Qin Wei's original one. Its only flaw was that it hardly looked human.
His complexion was as sickly as a vampire's.
Still, recovering this much was already pretty good.
When he first arrived in this body three months earlier, he had crawled out of a gutter beside a trash can. He had been stripped completely naked, without so much as an object that could identify him. His only clue was a stab wound that had gone straight through his waist.
The scar was fresh, the flesh around it still inflamed and swollen, and the stitches were a complete mess.
This body's original owner must have had plenty of enemies. He hadn't even dared go to a hospital after getting injured.
With that thought, Qin Wei also abandoned the idiotic idea of grabbing some random passerby and asking, "Do you know me?"
Although he had no idea who he was now, an old newspaper in the trash can had given him a staggering piece of news-this damned place was actually Gotham City.
Gotham, where the people were simple and honest; Arkham, a blessed land brimming with talent. That one saying summed up everything Qin Wei knew about this wonderful place. Beyond that...
Nothing!
Yes, he knew absolutely nothing else.
He wasn't a fan of American comics, and his knowledge of DC went no further than the movies. In fact, going by what he knew best, he felt he should have ended up in Queens, hanging out with the boy next door, Peter, or somewhere like Metropolis, with Superman watching over it.
Anywhere but a hell-level dungeon like Gotham.
"You could've just let me die, but instead you went to all this trouble to send me here. Thanks a lot!"
Without knowing who he was addressing, Qin Wei raised his middle finger at the sky.
But however unfamiliar he was with all this, he still knew about Batman. That might be his only hope of staying alive.
And so, an extraordinary sight appeared on the streets of the East End that day: a naked man wandered around with a newspaper covering his crotch, asking for news about Bruce Wayne.
The outcome hardly needed explaining. Nobody wanted anything to do with this lunatic, apart from the police who arrived after getting a report.
They pinned him down in the cold, foul-smelling puddle on a street corner. He even lost the newspaper he had been using to cover himself.
Qin Wei was on the verge of a breakdown, and that feeling only eased a little once he was outside the interrogation room.
In a dim corridor thick with the smell of tobacco, he sat on a wooden bench. On his left was a biker sporting smoky eye makeup and an outrageous spiked hairdo. On his right was a thug reeking of body odor, his tank top's armholes cut into jagged edges. Qin Wei covered his crotch, trapped between men on both sides.
The criminals in bizarre outfits, behaving just as strangely, made the naked pervert look like a normal person by comparison.
Before long, Qin Wei was called in. His interviewer was a slightly plump, middle-aged man.
Unlike the other slovenly officers, he had a carefully groomed mustache and an immaculate dark ochre suit. The old scars crisscrossing the backs of his hands suggested he might be a veteran officer.
"Name?"
Qin Wei shook his head, then hesitated.
"...Maybe you can call me Will."
"Any history of mental illness?"
"No! Absolutely not! I just got beaten up and lost my memory!" Qin Wei hurriedly showed him the stab wound at his waist, terrified that a moment's delay would get him sent to Arkham.
"All right! But that's no excuse for being naked. Your behavior violated the Gotham Public Places Health and Safety Code, which carries three days of detention. I'll help find your family during that time..."
"Hey, Gordon! Want to grab a drink after work?" An officer crossed the noisy hall and waved at the man.
"Sorry. Barbara has repeatedly ordered me to quit drinking."
"Really? What a shame."
From their conversation, Qin Wei learned the man's name.
Gordon? Why does that name sound so familiar? Could he be Commissioner Gordon, the one who turns on the Bat-Signal?
Lost and confused, Qin Wei felt as though he had found a lifeline. Once the officer left, he leaned toward Gordon and lowered his voice. "Can you take me to see Batman? The guy in the black cowl, with two pointy ears on his head!"
Gordon raised his left eyebrow, his eyes full of confusion, as though he had no idea what "Batman" meant.
But Qin Wei seemed to misinterpret that expression.
It's no secret that Gordon is Batman's contact. Everyone wants to find Batman through him. Maybe I should be more direct.
"Actually, I have some information to give him. Uh... about the Joker. You know the Joker, right?"
Gordon raised his right eyebrow. Some of the confusion left his eyes, and he seemed to have settled on a conclusion.
Seeing his expression, Qin Wei grew frantic.
"Then take me to see Bruce Wayne. Surely that's all right!"
At those words, Gordon finally reacted differently. He heaved a long sigh, crumpled the interview notes, and tossed them into the wastebasket at his feet.
"I'll contact the staff at Arkham and have them come get you..."
"Don't!"
The mere mention of Arkham almost froze Qin Wei's blood. He lunged forward and grabbed Gordon's sleeve.
Gordon's gaze turned cold, and he instinctively moved to draw his gun. Only after realizing Qin Wei had no intention of attacking him did his expression soften a little.
"Psychiatric patients are often unaware of their own condition."
"But there's really nothing wrong with me."
"You keep insisting you know Bruce, but everyone in Gotham knows he's dead. He died in Crime Alley, along with his poor parents."
Before you continue