[3rd POV]
Tony wandered aimlessly through the streets of Gotham.
Strangely, even though he'd been wandering for twenty minutes, Tony hadn't seen a single robber.
He even began to suspect that he had somehow ended up in a fake version of Gotham.
"Hey, buddy."
Just as he was thinking, a man wearing sunglasses, a mask, a hoodie, and a sweatshirt stopped him in the street.
'Finally. This would be his chance to earn a little money tonight.'
The next second, the man pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at him with his voice fierce and loud.
"Don't say a word! Hand over everything you've got!"
The man's voice was so loud that a few people walking by turned to look but quickly quickened their pace and vanished down the street.
After staring at the dark barrel of the gun, the words Tony had originally planned to use to ask for some money suddenly got stuck in his throat.
'Damn it, the criminals in Gotham really were built differently. They pull out guns right from the start.'
He didn't dare look directly at the gun anymore.
Instead, Tonny's eyes instinctively flicked to the top-right corner of his vision, where the Rapid Health Regeneration and Save Point hovered, ready to activate at any time.
He still had about ten minutes of safe time left. That helped him calm down a little.
Seeing that Tony still hadn't moved, the man's voice rose even higher, nearly hysterical now as he roared, "I said! Hand over everything you've got!"
The man thrust the gun forward violently, the gun nearly pressing against Tony's forehead.
Instinctively, Tony took a few steps back before freezing in place, then stopped and shakily put his hand into his coat pocket.
He pulled out two empty pockets and turned inside out.
"You f**king messing with me?!"
Tonny could feel the man's rage rapidly boiling over.
Even though he was terrified, Tony's survival instinct still kicked in and made him speak up in defense.
"Hey, it's not my fault I don't have money! You think I want to be broke?!"
"Who the hell are you calling broke?!"
'Damn it, who knew someone could get snapped from just hearing the words "broke"? Even I didn't have such a strong reaction to it.'
He cursed silently in his heart but felt a little calmer. He reached into his pants pockets and said, "Look, my pants pockets are empty too."
The man's eyes followed Tony's hand.
Since the sunglasses made it hard to see at night, he had to free one hand to lift them slightly.
"I'm watching you. Don't try anything."
Tony didn't try to trick him and pulled out his empty pants pockets again.
"You definitely have something hidden! Take off your clothes! Let me search!"
Tony didn't resist at all and quickly took off his jacket, holding his hands up.
'If you can find a single damn cent on me, I'd like to know where you found it because I've turned every pocket inside out twice.'
The man searched for a long time but couldn't find anything.
He felt really sad and sat down on the ground, staring blankly. He didn't even notice Tony standing nearby.
After a little while, the man covered his face with his hands and started crying.
Tony put his jacket back on and sat down beside him, trying to offer some comfort.
"It's alright. Everyone has rough patches. If you really don't want to walk away empty-handed, I can give you my jacket."
"Who the hell wants your damn jacket?!"
The man threw the gun at him, hitting Tony's arm hard enough to sting. Then he grabbed the weapon again and pointed it at him.
"What the hell would a broke-ass like you know?! You won't even make it through the night!"
"I know you're new at this. This is your first time doing something like this. I've been walking these streets for a while now, and every other mugger out here could tell at a glance that I'm dead broke with empty pockets, but you didn't notice."
The man's hand trembled slightly as he held the gun. The tears in his eyes slowly began to boil into a flush of rage on his face.
"You're out here robbing people at night wearing sunglasses, a mask, and a hoodie, but you didn't wear gloves and didn't even turn the safety on your gun. Honestly, your gun might not even be real. After stopping me, you didn't drag me into an alley right away. You were way too loud during the robbery, drawing attention. You kept pointing your gun too close, and when I reached into my pants pocket, you stopped paying attention to your gun and gave me way too many chances to grab it."
"You damn—"
"Your emotions are unstable. Your plan is too sloppy. A real thief never leaves empty-handed. You could've taken my jacket and the rest of my clothes, but you didn't. After failing, you should have left right away, but instead, you just sat here crying."
"Shut the f**k up!"
The man swung the butt of the gun at him again, but this time, Tony dodged it.
"I know you're desperate, but hold on a second. People don't just walk out into the street and rob someone for no reason. So something must've happened to you… and what if I can help?"
The man didn't want to talk much.
He put the gun away and wiped the tears from his face. When he took off his sunglasses, Tony saw bloodshot eyes, deep dark circles, and that he looked really close to breaking down.
"There are already enough lunatics in Gotham. We don't need one more."
Tony spoke to him from behind: "If you're out here trying to rob someone, it means you really need it. You used a fake gun, which suggests you actually have some moral standard. You've got those serious dark circles, which means this money problem has been eating at you for a while. The money you need isn't small either."
"You can't go rob a bank because that's territory for supervillains and the mob. I don't think you should do that. Moreover, running around hoping to get lucky is just luck, but maybe if you talk to me, I can help."
The man stopped for a moment, then said with a hoarse voice, "Why would you want to help me?"
"I don't help people for free. I just came to Gotham City, and I don't know this place well. I need a decent job, and I don't have anywhere to sleep tonight. If I can't help you, we just go our separate ways—you go home, and I'll sleep on the street. But if I can help, then we make a deal. I stay at your place for a while and help you fix your problems, and you help me find a job. It doesn't have to be a great job—just something legal, and that won't get anyone killed."
The man hesitated for a long time before finally turning back and slowly sitting down next to him.
"You're not from Gotham. I'll trust you this once."
He took off his glasses and stared blankly up at the dark Gotham night sky, "It's not like I have any other options left anyway."