In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 484: Simple and Honest Folk of Gotham City

Just as the weather forecaster had said on the big screen earlier, tonight was the night with the most Green Lanterns in Gotham.

However, these Green Lanterns weren’t content to stay put on the red Green Lantern poles; they were darting around the city like headless flies.

They didn’t know what kind of abyss this city was, unaware of the darkness concealed within the narrow alleys, dark hallways, and flickering buildings.

At first, the activities of these oddly dressed individuals didn’t attract much attention. Gotham was already teeming with eccentric characters. But then a rumor spread among the truck drivers, who had the widest coverage of the activities. They claimed that Gotham was haunted.

These individuals with green light were ancestral spirits resurrected from the underground. They came to judge the city, aiming to eliminate all chaos and wrongdoing.

When the citizens of Gotham heard this news, their first reaction wasn’t to pray or flee in panic to churches. Instead, they picked up guns, loaded their magazines, pushed open doors, took to the streets, and unleashed a barrage of fire upon anything green within their sight.

“We’re here to save this city!” shouted a Green Lantern in green attire. “We’ve come for justice. The Green Lantern will cleanse all filth!”

“Bang!”

Bullets hit the faint green light. While they didn’t penetrate the shield of the Green Lantern, they sent the green-clad figure flying. A freckled young boy, his face full of determination, chambered another round in his rifle and said, “Save this city? Sorry, but this city doesn’t need anyone’s salvation.”

He then aimed his rifle at the green-clad Green Lantern again. The young Green Lantern, his face showing confusion, yelled, “Are you crazy?! We can rescue this city from the clutches of evil. We’re here to save you. Don’t you want peace?!”

Seemingly in a good mood, the newspaper boy kept his gun trained on the Green Lantern, mocking with a smile, “You talk about purifying filth, yet I am one of the filth you speak of. When I was born, no one came to save me. And after I managed to lead a good life through my own efforts, you want to purify me, impose your so-called ‘justice’…”

“Your talk of peace might sound nice, but I don’t need it.”

“I don’t believe in peace and justice. I only believe in the gun in my hand because, in times of danger, it’s not you who protects me, but it.”

As he spoke, he prepared to pull the trigger again. Just then, another young boy ran up from the side, also holding a gun. He told the freckled newspaper boy, “Copperpot boss is looking for you! Hurry, he wants you to answer the telephone!”

With a glance at the Green Lantern lying on the ground, the boy said, “Ignore these lunatics. They’re all talk about justice and peace. It’s ridiculous. Who would talk like that in Gotham?”

The newspaper boy seemed to lose interest as well. He picked up his gun and followed his companion, leaving the Green Lantern to pick himself up from the ground. His arms trembled a little, and he shook his head, somewhat dazed, muttering, “… Have I truly gone mad?”

Following his companion through narrow alleys and into a small shack, the newspaper boy entered a room with a telephone. He picked up the receiver and said, “Hello? It’s me. Yes, everyone has guns now, but so far, we haven’t managed to take down the Ghost…”

“The light on them is quite troublesome. Regular bullets don’t work. Boss, I’ve heard about a useful freeze gun. Can you get us one?””What? Scouting positions and relaying information? Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll be 13 next year, I can join the fight!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll follow your lead… Really? Great! I’ll inform them right away!”

After finishing the call, the newspaper boy hung up the telephone and excitedly told his companion, “Hurry and call them over. Copperpot boss said we’re responsible for the reconnaissance in the entire West District. We need to report the locations of those Ghosts, and there will be specialists to deal with them.”

The companion sighed with disappointment, “So, does that mean we can’t join the fight again? Why is it always like this? We’re not that young anymore.”

“Stop complaining. The boss said that if we perform well, he’ll get us those advanced freeze guns to play with. Those things are powerful. I’ve seen someone use it to shoot down a green fly and turn it into a big ice block!”

The two chatted animatedly, and soon, the companion ran out to deliver messages.

This kind of scene wasn’t limited to the children in the West District. It was happening within the entire children’s network of Gotham. Cigarette boys, newspaper boys, flower boys, street vendors—these savvy individuals, well-versed in the city’s layout, showcased the immense power of a fully connected information network.

The number of children in Gotham was substantial. In the past, most children had nothing to do, spending their days idly on the streets. Since the previous child king’s demise, Copperpot had taken over the network.

It had to be admitted that Penguin, in terms of strategy, was far more visionary than the average gang leader. The former child king used children to accumulate wealth, exploiting the meager funds from their parents. But Copperpot saw a different potential in this network, a function far more potent than amassing wealth.

These ubiquitous vendors walked the streets and alleys year-round, and there was nothing they didn’t know about their neighborhoods. Many newspaper boys even doubled as couriers. They were aware of who received new letters, who had new family members, who passed away, and who went to work. They were the perfect candidates for developing an intelligence network.

Previously, this network was just taking shape. Schiller, through Copperpot’s development of this network, was able to quickly detect Merkel’s suspicious activities. Agents like Merkel were highly sensitive to being surveilled, but they weren’t as wary of cigarette-selling street vendors. This allowed Schiller to identify them as soon as they set foot in Gotham.

Copperpot, recognizing the advantage of this network, was eager for an opportunity for real-world action. Just then, the Green Lanterns descended from the sky.

The Green Lanterns struck down by Aisha’s attack were scattered throughout Gotham. Locating them posed a challenge. Despite their distinctive green glow, with so many nooks and crannies in Gotham, it would take a considerable amount of time to find them all.

However, with this group of kids and their network, things were different. These vendors excelled at slipping into all sorts of peculiar places, which usually meant shortcuts or hiding spots.

Take the freckled newspaper boy, for example. He knew where the walls in the West District had gaps, where there were dog holes, where the basements of houses connected to the neighboring ones. No one knew these details better than him. It was through this information that he could deliver messages swiftly, not only completing tasks in the West District daily but also occasionally assisting in the East District.

Under Copperpot’s command, these kids were united. In no time, information was passed along, and by the time it reached Falcone Manor, Copperpot had gained knowledge of all the Green Lanterns’ movements—numbers, appearances, strength—it was all crystal clear.

In a reception room within Falcone Manor, a large Gotham map on the wall was covered in colorful pins. Copperpot’s short figure stood in front of the map, exuding an undeniable presence.

“Tell those gunmen to drive them out. We don’t need to harm them, just get them out of those dark alleys.”

A gang member behind Copperpot asked, “Where should we drive them to?”Copperpot’s gaze fell on the central area of the Gotham City map. After a moment of thought, he said, “Go to the central roundabout.”

After the gang members left, Copperpot stood in front of the map, lost in thought. At that moment, the door opened, and Alberto walked in, asking, “What’s going on? Did Professor contact you?”

Copperpot shook his head, saying, “No, but I can guess his intentions. Do you remember, among those green-glowing individuals who appeared in the Arkham Asylum corridor, was there one that looked familiar?”

“You mean the one named Hal Jordan? We saw him in our dreams before, right?”

“Correct. It seems he’s aligned with Professor Schiller, but he’s opposing us with that strange group. I believe he’s a spy sent by Schiller to the other side. Once we drive that group of people to the central roundabout, we’ll find out what they’re up to.”

Alberto nodded, clearly approving Copperpot’s proposal to gather people in one place. He was considering another issue.

If the Green Lanterns fought individually, it might be easier to defeat them one by one, but it would cause significant damage to Gotham City. Repairing the city afterwards would also be troublesome. If they were all concentrated in the central roundabout area, it wouldn’t matter much since that place was already in ruins.

Just as Alberto walked over to the map to take a look at the layout, Copperpot turned and left. Alberto called after him, asking, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to make a phone call. There are some arrangements to be made.”

Meanwhile, on the main road leading to Gotham University, a car sped by, kicking up snowflakes. The snowfall was getting heavier, yet the car paid no heed to the worsening weather, accelerating relentlessly.

Harvey Dent, seated in the passenger seat, looked at Victor, who was at the wheel, and said, “Don’t worry, it won’t be that coincidental. There should be no ghosts landing in the Gotham University laboratory…”

However, Victor’s expression was grim. It was rare to see him this serious. He spoke in a low voice, “No, what if? What if those odd people happen to land near the Gotham University laboratory? What if they disrupt the university’s power supply and cut off the laboratory’s energy…”

As he reached the end of his sentence, Victor’s voice began to tremble uncontrollably. He pressed down on the accelerator again, and the car gained speed. Harvey shook his head helplessly, saying, “I saw where all those green lights fell. I remember all the locations very clearly, and I’m certain that Gotham University is not included.”

“But what if they can teleport? What if they can use magic? What if, what if…”

Clearly, Victor had fallen into a paranoid state. He kept muttering under his breath, his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably, and his knuckles making slight cracking sounds.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed repeatedly, his breathing growing rapid. Harvey saw a madness in Victor’s eyes that he had never witnessed before. The usually calm and rational lawyer couldn’t help but worry.

It seemed that Victor, the typically mild-mannered and witty gentleman, had an unknown streak of madness within him.

Turning his head, Harvey looked out of the car window. Through the swirling snow, he saw the blinking lights of the city, resembling the flickering eyes of monsters in an abyss.

He thought, perhaps the city was just like this—each person who came here had a distinct personality, yet they all shared a common trait: they were all mad.

But they wielded madness as a weapon, never needing to be saved.

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