In an underground warehouse in the west district of the metropolis.
Luke sat on the sofa, eating ice cream and watching the latest reports about Gotham City on TV with relish.
Under the sunny sky, countless leaflets fell like snowflakes.
Citizens chased snowflakes like children seeing a snowy day for the first time.
"This scene is truly breathtakingly beautiful."
Luke sighed sincerely, looking behind him.
"Mr. Sidney, stop pretending. I know you're awake."
"Now that you're awake, it's time to talk business."
Luke moved a chair and sat in front of him, looking him up and down, almost laughing out loud. Sidney was not tall, and as he grew older, his body gradually became fatter. Now hanging on the cross, he did not have the tragic spirit of Jesus' crucifixion at all, but instead had the illusion of a silent comedy from the 1930s.
Luke coughed and said in a low voice,
"I heard that Mr. Sidney is a devout Jew. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me tying you up in this way. Of course, if you think the form isn't solemn enough, I can strip you naked and hammer iron nails into your wrists and ankles. But that's too bloody, and I don't want to do that."
Sidney opened his bloodshot eyes and stared at Luke with a murderous look.
"Devil! You're going to hell."
Luke tutted his tongue and shook his head. "That's not true."
"There's a very important tenet in Judaism: The Creator rewards those who obey the law and punishes those who violate it. Although I'm not a Jew, I've lived for seventeen years and have never violated this tenet. But you, Mr. Sidney, murder, rape, molest young girls, oppress the good, smuggle drugs, and sell arms..."
The crimes were listed one after another, and Sidney's cheeks trembled every time he counted one. In the end, he simply closed his eyes and refused to listen, hear, or ask.
Luke laughed, with an undisguised mockery on his face.
"You're a jerk, and you're a devout believer. If God knew there were believers like you, he'd be so pissed he'd shit himself."
"you..."
Sidney opened his eyes wide and struggled hard, but no matter how hard he tried, the chains that bound his hands and feet did not move at all. Instead, he was exhausted and gasping for breath. From last night until now, he was first beaten by Batman, then hit by Luke's car, and then hung on the cross for several hours. His body could no longer bear it.
"Come on, stop pretending. You don't believe in God at all. You only believe in money."
"Let's be realistic. Tell me, how much is your life worth?"
Sidney spat, "Yellow dog, I won't give you a penny."
"Good! You have guts!"
Luke pinched his fingers and said with a smile, "I like you like this."
As he said this, he picked up the dagger on the table.
The fine steel dagger reflected a dazzling light under the light. Seeing the blade getting closer and closer to his neck, Sidney couldn't help but yell,
"What are you doing! Don't come over here, go away!"
Luke sighed and said, "Mr. Sidney, you are at least one of the most important people in Gotham City. Can you please have some backbone and stop making me look down on you?"
"Don't worry, this is my first time killing someone with my own hands, so it won't be too bloody. I will give you a warm and painless death. I guarantee you'll be satisfied. Remember to give me a five-star rating."
The dagger flew through the air and slashed across Sidney's wrists. Blood flowed down his skin, one drop, two drops, three drops...
Drops of blood fell into the copper basin, making splashing sounds.
A look of despair flashed in Sidney's eyes. He wanted to beg for mercy several times, but he held it back. He lowered his head and said nothing.
Luke wiped the blood off the knife and said lightly,
"A normal person dies in about an hour after cutting their wrists. I don't have that much patience.
"Even if I cut off your hands, plus the injuries to your shoulders, abdomen, and chest, you can only last twenty-five minutes at most."
Luke took out the alarm clock he had prepared long ago.
"It's 8:13 now. I'll come over at 8:30 and give you one last chance."
After that, he put down the alarm clock, turned around and left, and when he reached the door, he turned back and said,
"Oh, I forgot to tell you one thing. I already know about the phone call you made to your son. I believe it won't be long before Falcone finds them. I wish you and your family have fun in hell."
Luke nodded slightly, closed the iron door under Sidney's desperate gaze, and disappeared.
…
Although Martin Jesse had made all the preparations he could think of, the moment he walked out of the city hall building, fear still emerged uncontrollably.
There are too many people!
The entire central square, covering an area of 140,000 square meters, was packed with people.
It was so dark that you couldn't count them at a glance.
These people gathered together, without much noise or clamor, and a large number of them just stood there, looking calmly ahead.
In the past, Martin Jesse would be happy to show off his speaking talent in front of so many people, but today was different. He felt fear. Those eyes were like blood demons that ran out of hell, wanting to devour him whole.
The assistant reminded, "Sir, we can't delay any longer."
Martin reacted immediately, tensed himself up, walked to the microphone, coughed habitually, and was about to speak when an unidentified object flew out from the crowd.
The flying object grazed the podium and landed on the steps.
It turned out to be a hamburger wrapped in a flyer. Under the glaring sunlight, the words covered by cream were particularly eye-catching.
A reporter rushed out of the blockade and asked loudly,
"Mr. Mayor, are the flyers real? Have you really been bribed by Falcone?"
Someone took the lead, and the other reporters were not to be outdone. They all used their paparazzi skills to break free from the police's interception, and more than a dozen microphones were thrust in front of Martin Jesse.
"Mr. Mayor, on April 8th, you were invited to a charity dinner at the Mossage Hotel, where Falcone was also present. The next day, you received a bribe of $2.76 million. How did this money reach you? Central Bank?"
"Mr. Mayor, you promoted James Collin, the chief of the Gotham City Police Department. Now he is accepting bribes. How do you explain this?"
"Mr. Mayor, please answer my question."
"Mr. Mayor..."
"Mr. Mayor..."
Martin Jesse felt like ten thousand mosquitoes were buzzing in his ears. He couldn't hear what the other party was saying at all, and he didn't want to listen. Seeing that the situation was getting out of control, he quickly waved to the police and asked them to drive them away.
In the past, reporters would have chosen to retreat, but now it is different. The leaflet has exposed the dark side of Gotham City. The police are no longer the embodiment of justice, but a group of corrupt officials who accept bribes.
The termites should be beaten to death!