Chapter 10: A Gift from an Enthusiastic Benefactor

Half an hour later, the Italian man emerged from the hospital room. His henchmen took care of the discharge procedures for the Mad Hatter, allowing him to leave directly in an ambulance.

Several police officers had also received instructions from their superiors. With all the paperwork in order, they allowed the ambulance to pass.

“What kind of nonsense is this…” A younger officer sighed as he watched the ambulance disappear into the distance.

“That’s Gotham for you. You get used to it,” an older officer comforted him, distractedly fiddling with his phone. “Look on the bright side—we’re getting the afternoon off.”

Meanwhile…

“What? The Italians took the Mad Hatter?” Captain Gordon stared at the message on his phone, feeling his temples throb twice. “What are they playing at? And what were the officers guarding the Mad Hatter doing?”

“Probably Commissioner Roma flexing his muscles. After all, he just received funding from Carmine Falcone’s police fund this year,” said Harvey Dent, the local district attorney and Gordon’s friend. After a moment’s thought, he guessed what had happened. “Looks like the Mad Hatter might have some connection to the Falcone family member who died on Valentine’s Day.”

“The deaths of those two stirred up the entire city of Gotham, and things are only getting worse,” Gordon frowned. “What worries me even more is that the modus operandi matches the string of holiday murders we saw before.”

“Do you think it’s the same perpetrator or a copycat?” Harvey asked.

“Looks like the same person. A copycat wouldn’t know the crime details so well,” Gordon analyzed. “Unless they had inside knowledge of all these cases, no one could imitate it so precisely.”

“I think so too,” Harvey said meaningfully.

“No, we’re getting off track. The urgent matter now is to stabilize the situation…” Gordon began, but his phone buzzed again before he could finish.

He glanced down and cursed, “Fxxk! The Italians bailed out Poison Ivy and the Riddler too!”

“Damn it…” Harvey’s face darkened. “Is Blackgate Prison owned by Falcone?”

“This won’t do. We have to come up with a plan,” Gordon whispered conspiratorially to Harvey.

At this moment, the Falcone family’s actions had thrown Gotham into chaos.

“Damn it, say that again?” Roland grabbed the collar of an old potato farmer. “A potato this size and you want ten dollars for it? I think you want me to punch you with a fist the size of that potato!”

“There aren’t any potatoes around these days. I had to bribe Falcone’s people just to get in here to sell them. I think they’re overpriced too,” the farmer scoffed, brushing Roland’s hand away. “You buying or not?”

“No way!”

“Oh, then no sale.”

Roland turned to leave but sensed something was off. “Damn it, since when did the Falcones start controlling agricultural imports?”

“Hey, hey, hey, you prophet, I’m talking to you,” a young man with nose rings, ear piercings, and a lip ring—looking like the kind of guy Pain Six Paths would hang out with—approached Roland, extending his hand. “I’m with the Falcone family. Pay up!”

“Pay what?”

“Well… I bet when you preach you don’t put in much effort, but the church still took a lot of donations. You owe us Falcone folks some penance money,” the young man said, eyes darting as he thought up a reason.

“Amen… Now someone’s selling indulgences and trying to pin it on me.” Roland knocked the young man to the ground with a quick strike. “Falcone family, huh? You look Latino, but you’re part of the Italian mafia?”

“How dare you hit me! You’re dead!” The youth was stunned that a clergyman would strike without warning and was dazed by the blow.

“Heh, tried to extort me on the street and got hit for it. What are you going to do about it?” Roland patted the man down, pocketing whatever loose change he found. As for a suspicious box of white powder, he poured it straight down the drain.

“Give me a bag of those potatoes.” Roland, buoyed by the generosity of bystanders, hoisted a sack of potatoes and tossed some coins on the stall. “Keep the change.”

“That’s not enough…”

“Don’t complain, you’re lucky I didn’t ask for change back.” Roland lit a cigarette and turned to leave.

The old farmer, having witnessed Roland’s sudden violence, dared not stop him and spat toward his retreating back.

“Boss Roland, you’re back!” A group of children inside the church brightened as they saw him carrying the potatoes.

“Yeah, go wash and cook these. We’ll eat soon.” Roland dumped the potatoes on the ground. “Wait, it feels like some people are missing.”

“Alyana and Manuel went out. They said they’d try to bring back some food.”

“Foolish. Look at the chaos outside,” Roland snapped. “We have food here; why let them go?”

“Boss, they’re Italians, so it’s safer for them to go out,” one child said.

“Yeah, we can’t just freeload off you all the time.”

“And it’s not that bad out there. Gotham’s never been a safe place anyway.”

“True. Before the Riddler and the Joker were caught, Gotham was way more chaotic.”

The children chattered among themselves.

“…You’ve really been through a lot,” Roland sighed. “I just hope they’re okay.”

“What’s going on outside? Has the Falcone family gone mad?” Jason asked. “How did they cause such a huge commotion all at once?”

“It’s not just their family members. Most are thugs using their name to run wild,” Roland said, lighting another cigarette. “No telling how long this will last.”

“The Falcone family has so much power in Gotham now, who can stop them?” Jason shook his head. “And as long as they keep going, the chaos will only continue.”

“Maybe someone will stop them soon,” Roland said thoughtfully.

“You mean Batman?” Jason asked.

“Yeah.”

“Batman’s just one man. How can he take on an entire mafia?” Jason was skeptical. “Besides, Falcone’s got ties to officials. If Batman makes a move, he might end up on the wanted list.”

“You’ll see. Batman should make a move sooner rather than later,” Roland replied. “Besides, hasn’t Batman been wanted for abusing vigilante justice for a long time already?”