Early in the morning, after the alley.

Even in a time of chaos like Gotham, what happened here last night was enough to dominate the headlines. The police cordoned off the street early on, prohibiting anyone from entering or leaving - of course, this was only useful during the day. The night has long since been completely out of the hands of the police, and some people who want to break through the blockade can't stop them at all - or no one wants to stop them.

Roy and Barbara, who are advisers to the Gotham police, quickly walk through the cordon and enter through the rusty iron gate guarded by two cops.

The entrance was a long black corridor, and the scene of the crime should have been in a room more than a dozen paces away from this passage. But even from such a distance, there was still a smell of blood in the air, which spread with the humidity in the air.

The two walked to the door of the room, and the police officer standing outside the door reminded: "You had better be mentally prepared in advance, the scene inside may be a little unpleasant." ”

"Thank you." Roy thanked him and pushed the door in.

The officer was telling the truth.

In the middle of the room is a lavish elongated dining table filled with a variety of delicious dishes - or rather delicious. Now the plate is filled with all kinds of fluids that shoot out of the human body, and the look makes people sick to their stomachs.

The room was littered with corpses, bullet holes were everywhere, several glasses and whiskey bottles were smashed on the table, and glass shards were splashed all over the table and on the floor.

Harvey Bullock, who was standing inside, saw the two of them and said hello and walked up.

"No survivors found." "It's like a slaughterhouse. In all my years as a police officer - even in a place as hellish as Gotham - I have rarely seen anything like this. ”

"Are there any survivors?" Barbara asked, "Or witnesses?" ”

Bullock shrugged: "These people are all Gotham's ruffian leaders, and they are all powerful guys. In such an extraordinary time, they gather here – whatever it is for discussion – and of course try to keep a low profile. Their meetings were secret and hidden, so I'm afraid no one witnessed them. As for the survivors"

"At least one." Roy, who had been observing the chair of the table for a moment, interjected coldly.

"Oh? Why? ”

"Bloodstains." "Last night, while everyone was sitting, there was a man in the master's seat standing - I guess he was speaking. It was likely that this made him a prime target for the gunman, and the bullet went through his chest and drove into the wall over there—not hard to tell from the bullet holes in the wall and the blood stains on the ground. Also based on the bloodstains, we can see that he is not dead, but still struggling. It was then natural to speculate that the shootout broke out and that our sought-after might have been busy dealing with the others, and this guy crawled out of the small door and into the grocery room under the cover of the dining table. ”

As he spoke, he opened the door to the grocery room.

"And go out the window?" Barbara asked, glancing into the grocery room.

"That's how it looks." Roy said, "So now, let's extract a little bit of the blood of this guy who escaped."

"We'll be able to confirm his identity through DNA monitoring," Barbara said, "and find this guy, maybe he'll be able to tell us who this cruel gunman is!" ”

Bullock nodded, "I'll contact someone to take a blood sample for DNA testing right away." One more thing"

"What?"

"Actually, when we got the report, there was something else in the room," Bullock said, pulling out a bag of evidence with a black dart in the shape of a sharp bat.

Both Roy and Barbara's faces changed slightly.

"When we came in, it was nailed to the wall over there, in the most prominent position in the center." Bullock said.

Roy took the dart, studied it through the bag, and handed it to Barbara.

"Same size." Barbara whispered, "Same model." ”

Roy nodded in agreement: "Exactly the same." ”

It's not a shoddy copycat, this dart is really exactly the same as Batman's custom-made type.

"But what is the gunslinger doing here with a dart?" Bullock wondered, "If he wanted to disguise himself as Batman, it wouldn't be very successful, that guy doesn't use a gun." ”

"Or maybe he's not imitating at all." Roy said heavily, "Maybe he's playing a new Batman." ”

Two hours later, a bar.

Barbara sat down at the bar, took a glass of wine, and said, "Thank you." ”

Roy sat next to her, looked through the messages on his phone, and said, "The DNA test results are in, and the blood stain is from Harvey Dent." ”

"Hah!" Barbara took a sip of her wine, "So we're back to square one?" Our only living witness was the two-faced man - the fugitive we had been looking for for a week without finding. ”

Roy didn't refute and continued to think about something.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink?" Barbara drained it and poured another full glass, "You know people come here to drink, right?" ”

"It's not me coming." "I don't like alcohol, it can mess with my mind and it can interfere with my nighttime work. ”

"People always say that drinking is a big deal, and the more stuff we do, the better."

As the two spoke, another man sat down at the bar next to them.

"A bottle of whiskey."

It seemed that after a moment of deliberation, he asked coldly, "Are you Roy Green?" ”

Roy looked the man up and down. The guy wears a peaked cap with the brim pressed low, a pair of red sunglasses, and a cautious look.

Roy looked him up and down.

"The hooligans of Wesley Darwin's gang." Roy chuckled, "What are you looking for me to do with a police advisor?" ”

The guy was stunned: "How are you?"

"I saw your tattoo when you just reached for your wine." Roy said, "Wesley's men." Maybe half of the people in the bar have guns, but not everyone has their hands on the handlebars at all times, so if you do have something to do with me, I'd suggest you let go of the hands that hold the handlebars under your clothes. ”

The man stared at him for a moment, then approached and whispered in a low voice, "I was at the scene when last night's shooting happened. ”

"What?"

"It's the shooting your police are looking for." "I'm Mr. Wesley's bodyguard," he said. When it broke out, I pretended to be dead and deceived him, but now I feel like he's everywhere, as if he's about to pop out of the shadows in the next second."

"Who?" Roy asked, "Who do you say is everywhere?" Who was there last night? ”

"Batman." The man said firmly. (To be continued.) )