"… Jay Li , please step forward. By the authority vested in me by the Constitution, it is my great pleasure to promote you to the rank of Captain of the Gotham City East Precinct. Congratulations, Captain Li."
Bob unpinned the star-shaped officer's badge from Jay's shoulder and replaced it with a metal epaulet bearing three horizontal bars.
"I'm sorry, son. With your family absent, I've taken the liberty." He said in a low voice, lightly tapping the newly affixed epaulet, then picked up a cross-shaped medal and pinned it to Jay's chest.
"…Furthermore, you are awarded the Medal of Valor, in recognition of your courageous actions and sacrifice in numerous operations…"
In Jay's rented office.
"Well? How does it feel to be a Captain?"
"Not bad, just that the uniform is a bit too tight." Jay unbuttoned the top two buttons of his formal uniform, looking at Wilson sitting in the wheelchair. "Thanks for coming today, but…"
He frowned, recalling. "Based on the timeline, you should be mostly recovered in two months. Why are you still stuck in a wheelchair?"
"Ah! Don't worry about that." Wilson abruptly jumped up from the wheelchair. "I just found out people usually let me use the elevator first if I'm in this thing."
"You are truly a son of a…"
Jay shook his head, gesturing to the people around. "Come meet your predecessors. Almost everyone here has more seniority than you now."
"Don't listen to him. I'm battle-tested." Wilson first spotted Anna and extended his hand. "Hey! Want to grab a drink later? Wait, Jay, is this your girl?"
"Of course not. She said she likes cultured, well-mannered gentlemen, not roughnecks like us with mouths full of curses."
Jay watched Anna give Wilson a delicate eye-roll, but Wilson didn't mind. He clapped Jay on the shoulder. "Damn, you look even stronger?"
In fact, whenever Jay had free time, he would prioritize the training required by the system's upgrade tasks. As the progress gradually completed, his physical fitness was also enhanced through exercise.
"Wrestling with psychos will do that. But speaking of which, you better go back to bed."
"Oh, come on, Captain. I never imagined I'd miss work so much." Wilson shook his head mournfully. "It's too boring. Recuperating at home is more tedious than the hospital. And I have to tolerate my mother and sister's nagging."
"What about your father? Why hasn't he come to see you?"
"…you son of…" The now-reactive Wilson felt his old wound flaring up from anger. "When are you going to fix that mouth of yours?"
"You think I haven't learned anything?" He tugged the corner of his eye back with his finger. "Now, we're even!"
"Hahaha, yeah, yeah," Jay laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "We're even."
Jay looked around at his colleagues in the office and beckoned to Otis.
"Otis, regarding your case, the Boss—uh, no, the Chief—has negotiated with the judge. You should be going to trial soon. I was going to let Wilson help you…"
He suddenly paused and seriously reconsidered. "No, that won't do. If he helps you, you'll never overturn the verdict in your lifetime."
He turned around and shouted, "Allen!"
"Present, Captain!"
"If any lawyers or anyone else comes to question Otis's status during this period, you handle it for him. Officially, he's still a Blackgate Prison inmate."
"Understood, Captain." Allen saluted. "I'll handle it."
"Thank you, thank you… Captain!" Otis's facial muscles were twitching. "I… I…"
"Stop all the 'I, I, I'," Jay patted his arm. "You promised to work for me to pay off your debt."
"No problem! Ca—Captain!"
Otis stood at attention and gave a non-standard salute. Jay slightly pursed his lips and continued:
"Regarding Central Precinct… Nygma's transfer paperwork is done. He should be reporting to East Precinct in the next few days. However…"
He scratched his head in annoyance. "I still don't have a place to set up the morgue and forensics lab I promised him. I wanted to buy the commercial building next door. Buying the building won't cost much, but the renovations are too expensive…"
"I can't help you with that. Figure it out yourself." Wilson shrugged. "Can you really not give me any work?"
"Er…" Jay stared at him for a moment. "How about you go undercover?"
"If you want me dead, just say so!"
Jay smiled at him, dropping the topic. After seeing everyone leave the room, he pulled out a piece of paper and drew a sketch of Batman.
Based on what he saw at the Mad Hatter's lair, Master Wayne's cosplay suit wasn't high-end yet.
There was a bat symbol on his chest, but it wasn't hard armor, looking more like standard bulletproof vest material. His lower half wasn't bright, vulgar underwear, but tight leather pants with a clear crotch seam.
"Tsk tsk…" He looked at the matchstick man drawing: a circular head topped with two triangular ears, four thin lines for limbs, and a trapezoidal cape behind him.
"Sigh, if I were to apply to art school, I'd definitely fail, just like Hitler."
Master Bruce wants to play at night, so he must be kept entertained and happy. And in the process, the role and hardship of the East Precinct must be highlighted. Otherwise, Mr. Wayne wouldn't happily spread the cash around the next day.
It's too damn hard.
He wrote a second name on the paper: CPS.
Ms. Erika Hale called him a few days ago; the accounts were mostly sorted out. But the whole city was in an uproar due to the Mad Hatter, so he really hadn't found time. He needed to make time soon to check on the situation.
Intervening in the Child Protection Services project to earn reputation was a spontaneous idea triggered by the Harper siblings, and it was a good project for raising funds.
However, he needed to accurately gauge the pressure to apply to make CPS back off gracefully without completely burning the bridge.
Third, he wrote Carmine Falcone.
The Roman's empire was deeply rooted, and the mob boss's foundation was too solid.
Killing him might not be difficult, but the entire Gotham underworld would quickly descend into chaos and revelry, and his small police force wouldn't be able to handle the aftermath.
He had to arrange a proxy who could maintain control beforehand…
Looking at the names on the paper, Jay gently tapped the table with his fingers in satisfied contemplation.
"Hmm?"
He suddenly felt something was wrong. He abruptly stood up and quickly walked to the gilt-framed mirror in the corner of the office.
The mirror still wasn't tall enough to see his face. He only saw that his stance was slightly leaned back, his stomach unconsciously pushed out, and he heard his own voice saying to the man in the mirror:
"Congratulations, kid."
The moment the words left his mouth, he froze.
"Oh, no." Jay whispered, his voice faint and unfamiliar in the empty office.
That was Bob's habitual posture and cadence.
Cold sweat instantly drenched the back of his shirt.
When did I pick up this habit from Bob?
He lowered his head. On the desk lay not his shiny old thermos, but cold coffee. He looked out at the pitch-black window again.
A fine drizzle fell, the raindrops incessantly tapping on the glass. The neon lights blurred in the rain curtain, like melting candy. The reflection on the window seemed to be grinning, showing a strange, mocking smile.
Jay picked up the cup of coffee, walked to the window, and poured the entire liquid into the potted plant.
The dark brown liquid seeped into the soil, as if feeding poison to Bob's money tree.
He stood there for a long time, looking at Gotham in the rain, contemplating what he was turning into, and finally shook his head.
" Maybe not, right? "
——————
Thanks for Reading
Dear readers,
Thank you for joining me on this literary journey. If you enjoy my novel and wantto keep reading, I invite you to support my work through Patreon. Your contributions will allow me to continue creating and sharing more exciting chapters.
I hope to count on your support and continue bringing you unforgettable stories!
https://www.patreon.com/c/Naughtypanda253