Swore to heaven that another outline change should earn a lightning strike, and then it thundered outside

The old auditorium looked quiet.

So quiet it felt distinctly insincere.

Chen Mo watched for two seconds without immediately heading over.

The bell had already rung. The students in the hallway began retreating into their classrooms, and the guy who had just sold them information ran faster than he would have for free extra food at the cafeteria. Chasing him now would most likely get them nothing but, "I really don't know anything else, unless you're willing to pay fifty."

The five-dollar service ended there.

Gotham's business spirit: fair prices for young and old, no after-sales service.

Barbara handed over her phone.

In the photo, there were still pencil marks after several names.

Dick looked down at the two cards in Chen Mo's hand.

"Are we going to the old auditorium now?"

Chen Mo tucked the cards into his camera bag.

"No rush."

Dick paused.

"You looked like you were about to charge over there."

"I was just moved by my career prospects."

Chen Mo patted his camera bag.

"A student reporter's first story: an old auditorium, a tea party, mysterious hats, rumors of missing minors. Sounds perfect for winning an award, and just as perfect for getting me expelled."

Barbara looked at him.

"So?"

Chen Mo lowered his head, tapping his fingertips against the outside of the camera bag.

"T.P., Tea Party. Hats. Good children sit on the left, bad children wear hats. And that nickname you mentioned."

He looked up.

"Mad Hatter."

Dick frowned.

"Who's Mad Hatter?"

"A locally produced form of psychological pollution, a Gotham specialty."

After saying that, Chen Mo felt the explanation wasn't very friendly to their new classmate, so he added another sentence.

"Put simply, a psychopath with acquired dwarfism who likes cosplaying the Mad Hatter from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, hence the nickname