There is no Batman in Gotham City comics.

Chapter 68 Crazy Party

Brad clearly felt that Eldorado's four wheels were shaken into the air.

"Drive! That guy's catching up!"

He was jolted awake by his companion's calls, and slammed on the gas pedal. The front of the Eldorado lifted up, and the exhaust pipe trailed sparks on the ground.

"That's it!!"

"Go for it, Brad! Let that guy eat your exhaust fumes! Let him only see your taillights!"

While his companions were still excited, Brad's heart was pounding.

Eldorado's acceleration wasn't slow, but even though he had floored the accelerator and his speed had reached 200 km/h, the car behind him was still closely following, and even seemed to be on the verge of overtaking him.

With a click, he gritted his teeth and chose to shift to the highest gear.

Even knowing there were five people in the car, and even knowing that he had been drinking, his competitive spirit ultimately overwhelmed his reason, fueled by alcohol and adrenaline.

He increased his speed to 300 mph, no longer daring to pay attention to any movement around him, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The wind rushed into Brad's nostrils, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. At the same time, the engine vibrated violently after reaching top speed, and the underweight Eldorado even made the steering wheel feel like it was swaying.

Both the people and the car have reached their limits.

Just then, a hand reached out from the right and tapped on the rearview mirror.

"I have something to do tonight, so I won't be able to play with you guys!"

Jason pressed the button to turn off autopilot mode and floored the accelerator.

The eight exhaust pipes at the rear of the car roared with deafening force, spewing out blue-green flames, and in the blink of an eye, it left Eldorado far behind.

On the undulating highway, the young people could only watch as the Batmobile's taillights, appearing and disappearing intermittently, arrogantly drove away.

Brad slowed down gradually and parked the car at the empty intersection.

The front half of the bright red Eldorado was blackened by exhaust fumes, and Brad was slumped over the steering wheel, panting heavily.

"What's so great about it? Anyone can accelerate on a straightaway; speed on a curve is what truly matters!"

……

The Batmobile stopped at the bottom of the mountain road; further up was Dave's villa.

Jason opened the cockpit and closed his eyes to feel the cold night wind.

After repeatedly pondering Qin Wei's words, he roughly understood what kind of will the other party wanted to convey, and also figured out what exactly had been repeatedly tugging at his heart.

He deeply loved the East End, yet he was also eager to escape it. These two conflicting thoughts entangled him, preventing him from shedding the red hood or perfectly integrating into the new world.

Dave?

Dave, that bastard, inherited the fine tradition of his father's generation, looking down on the East Side and those struggling in the mud. After all, discrimination is a genetic trait written in the blood of Gotham.

However, Dave is outspoken and has a simpler mind than those high-ranking people who hide their thoughts behind a mask.

Jason knew that dealing with Dave was simple. He just needed to go along with Dave's wishes and badmouth the East Side a few more times, and Dave would be happy to take him as a follower, just like the two henchmen behind him.

Those two spineless cowards were also from the Lower District, Lower District people who would never go against Dave's wishes.

The road ahead has already been paved; Jason just needs to follow it!

But his actions, which show neither resistance nor obedience, are somewhat intriguing.

Like Dick, Jason is also standing at a fork in the road.

Qin Wei's approach to solving the problem was also quite clever. He didn't tell Jason what to do or what to choose, just like he did with Dick. After all, Dick was just a child, while Jason was an adult with independent thinking abilities.

His solution this time was to use his own story to prompt Jason to think.

Overtime documents thrown on the table, cola poured on one's head—these things are never the core factors that destroy human rationality.

The cold stares of discrimination, the constant oppression, the mountain pressing down on our heads, the bullying day after day, the rules, dogmas, bad habits, occupation, bullying of our predecessors, the whispered weeping in the dead of night, the prayer facing the wall, the hand reaching out to the sky in helplessness.

The East District is everywhere.

If both protecting and giving up are painful, he would rather suffer for protecting.

Jason started the Batmobile, the engine resonating with his heart, its desperate roar echoing through the night.

……

The mansion was packed with young men and women, waving bottles of liquor and playing with pills, dancing to the DJ's scribbles and the sonic boom.

On the lawn, Dave and his friends were having a barbecue party with their shirts off, while several strippers were removing their clothes one by one by the firelight.

Dave's hips swayed to the music as he grabbed a spice jar and sprinkled some black pepper on the freshly grilled steak.

"Marl, tell the DJ to turn the volume up a bit more."

The little follower crouching at his feet ignored his orders, his eyes fixed on the blurry figure of the stripper behind the campfire.

Dave kicked him, and the guy named Mal screamed and tumbled into the pool, startling a flock of birds.

"You damn country bumpkin, your East Side mud has filthed my pond!"

Cursing and swearing, Dave rushed over, grabbed his henchman by the hair, dragged him out of the pool, and slapped him hard twice across the face.

"Boss..."

Mar tried to explain, but Dave kicked him into the pool again.

"Since this pool is dirty, you'd better find a way to clean it up!" Dave paused, looking around with a cold smile. "Do you have any good ideas?"

"Make it lose money!"

"This poor wretch from the East End can afford to pay compensation? Even if you removed all its organs, nobody would want it!"

"Let's drain the pool water and use it as a rag!"

Mar's face was deathly pale; the insane ramblings he uttered while on drugs were colder than ice water in a swimming pool.

"Why don't we let him drink it all?"

Dave had a brilliant idea, and before Mar could react, he jumped into the pool and pushed his little brother's head underwater.

After choking on water, Mal struggled frantically, his fingernails scratching Dave's skin, leaving two bright red scratches on the other man's chest.

Dave had intended to teach his underling a simple lesson, but perhaps due to the effects of the drugs, or perhaps because of the unexpected fact that the usually obedient Mal dared to resist, he revealed his true, ferocious nature in that instant.

Grabbing Marr's hair, Dave slammed him repeatedly into the pool.

A dull echo, splashing water, and gushing blood stained the pool red. When Dave came to his senses, a corpse was floating in front of him.

The DJ stopped playing music, and the faces of the spectators by the pool were filled with horror.

"Wow...whoa!"

Dave touched the excess fat on his face, licked his lips, and calmly opened his arms:

"He's just some East Side bastard, what are you all so nervous about?! Nobody's going to report us!"

Dave was also unsure of himself, after all, this was his first time killing someone, and he was panicked and at a loss, not knowing what he would face next.

But the reactions of the crowd gave him the confidence to be arrogant.

The music continued, the crowd dispersed, as if nothing had happened!

So this is what murder is all about. Dave scooped up the blood-soaked pool water and washed his face. His eyes widened, and as the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up, his fat cheeks twisted and deformed in a strange smile.

Just as he was reveling in the thrill of killing, two smoke bombs, trailing trails of smoke, were thrown in from outside the wall.

boom!

The sudden roar of the engine was like a pair of giant hands, cruelly tearing apart the noisy music of the party.