The once resplendent Iceberg Restaurant was one of the favorite gathering places for Gotham's high society.
Apart from the industries of a few major families, there was practically no one who could run a restaurant successfully in Gotham.
Ordinary people without backgrounds opening small shops in Gotham didn't need to make excellent food, but they had to be proficient in martial arts, tactics, or at least spear technique.
Even though it's no longer the era of the eight major mob families, the small street gangs are not fewer, and the new-fashioned gangs follow no rules, acting recklessly.
Old-style gangs would at least provide protection after collecting protection fees. But now, with no leader in the underworld and the realm divided by various powers, the dark order has become exceptionally chaotic.
In places where control changes frequently, businesses fear they have to pay protection fees more than ten times a month and still receive no protection.
Even though the police station is somewhat more effective now than before, limited by manpower, it still can handle very few things.
With a population of 8 million, a single police station, there's not much to say beyond that.
It's not a lack of money; Bruce has donated a lot to the Gotham Police Station, even gifting patrol cars and weapons.
The problem lies in the lack of people willing to become police officers in Gotham.
Gordon once formed a SWAT team, selecting a batch of reliable and young people, intending to use them as the backbone to expand the police force.
But within a week, all the iron-willed ones in the SWAT team were killed by the Sharp Claw; the remaining either resigned or were bribed to become black police. Bruce's donation also 'mysteriously vanished' from the city government's account.
Among them survived a righteous female officer, who was in Arkham Asylum during the Owl Court's Sharp Claw purge.
However, seen as hope by Gordon, after being discharged, she resigned and went to work as a bodyguard for a rich young lady...
That's how Gordon saw it, but in reality, that officer joined the Humiliation Squad, now turned into an anti-hero killer.
This is the state of this city, rotten from the root.
The Humiliation Squad's target is destined to remain out of sight; there's always a continuous stream of outsiders coming here and quickly becoming just as dark.
They are labeled as anti-heroes, not because they're maniacs, but because their double standards are severe. If you're seen as one of them, it doesn't matter what crime you commit.
You should know, Charise's teacher, Little James Gordon, is a serial killer, living quite comfortably now. Su Ming suspects that if Harley were to kill someone in front of them, Charise might even help.
Su Ming didn't bother to understand their mindset; Gotham never lacks lunatics.
And now, the Iceberg Restaurant in front of them looked as if it had been robbed.
Upon stepping inside, the tall crystal statue in the foyer was riddled with bullet holes, shattered pieces fallen to the ground, reflecting a dim light.
Blood light.
The situation here gave a new definition to carnage; the black-suited gang members probably didn't expect the sudden attack. Many corpses still had guns in their arms unholstered.
Who dared to raid Penguin Man's territory, one of Gotham's underworld bosses?
Even though Su Ming had come twice to freeload, these subordinates' vigilance was clearly not enough. They never thought of someone coming in with a machine gun to spray bullets.
Green Arrow's figure flickered and moved from beside Su Ming to the statue. He measured the bullet holes with his finger, then flashed back again.
"7.62 NATO standard bullets, there must be at least hundreds of shells here, likely a heavy machine gun, but there are only footprints of a few people in the blood."
Su Ming squatted down, picked up a bullet shell soaking in the blood pool. These bullet shells scattered in every corner, indicating they were shooting while moving.
A bullet generally consists of a bullet head, powder, primer, and casing. Typically, two sets of numbers are engraved at the bottom of the shell, signifying the manufacturer's code and production number.
The shell in Su Ming's hand was a special bullet, not available on the market, self-forged for private use.
Because beneath each shell, there were no two lines of numbers, only a small Bat engraving.
"Tsk tsk, the Laughing Bat seems to have found a new helper. Wonder which killer Batman skilled in weapons came out of that Dark Multiverse."
Su Ming tossed away the shell and began observing the footprints, shaking his head as he spoke to the two beside him.
Green Arrow remained vigilant, with his head constantly turning to observe the surroundings. Upon hearing this, he chuckled: "Maybe some world has a 'Deathstroke Bat', hehe..."
Su Ming shrugged; this is really hard to say.
Deathstroke's body is sufficient to wield a heavy machine gun, somersault while strafing, and kill nearly a hundred gang members, as simply as drinking water.
But that's not Deathstroke's style.
Because no matter which world's Deathstroke it is, they wouldn't choose to carry a heavy machine gun and have a shootout with others. Even for Su Ming himself, in that situation, he would first choose explosives, directly blowing the restaurant to the sky, and naturally, everyone inside would be dead.
This new freak Batman is different; he has a special affection for guns, liking to see others shot to death...
"Are there any survivors?" Su Ming didn't engage with the 'Bat Clock' topic but instead asked Diana, who had gone around to scope the surroundings.
Wonder Woman shook her head. These people were all thoroughly dead. She was familiar with battlefields, and naturally, with corpses as well.
The bodies hadn't stiffened yet, indicating they hadn't been dead for long, but there's still a temperature difference between the living and the dead.
"There are about a hundred people here, but their bullet wounds are all either in the forehead or chest, all fatal injuries," Diana said, holding her Treasure Sword with a helpless expression. "To achieve such precision with heavy machine guns implies something you should know better."
The dining table where Su Ming and Diana had previously eaten was also destroyed; a corpse lay pressed upon its tilted surface. Su Ming walked over with a sense of regret, lifted the tablecloth for a look, and then put it down again.
"It implies this Batman possesses shooting skills even stronger than Death Shooter, meaning his aim accounts for ballistic reflections."
Green Arrow looked at Su Ming's face, with Zorro's small mustache twitching as he spoke, but he couldn't find it amusing at all, because he also needed to master ballistics in archery.
"If you want to catch these people off guard, the time from entering to executing them all wouldn't exceed a few seconds. The weapon used was likely something akin to a multi-barreled Fire God Cannon, definitely not a toy for average folks."
"Batman has never been ordinary, and we should pay attention to the several different footprints among the blood," Su Ming interrupted the discussion of shooting skills, pointing to a row of prints embedded in semi-coagulated blood.
These footprints clearly headed in one direction, and although the treads differed somewhat, the shoes appeared to be roughly the same size.
Among them, one pair belonged to the murderer and another to Laughing Bat, which Su Ming had already identified. But then there was another pair of shoe prints and a barefoot pair?
Diana also had some study in footprints; after all, she used to spend her days hunting for fun on Paradise Island.
"Looks like good news, the new Dark Knight Order has only four people," she observed for a while and then winked at Su Ming.
"Or maybe there were another twenty crazy Batmen waiting outside, too lazy to come in, and their traces got washed away by rain..." Green Arrow suggested the worst scenario, just contemplating it made his scalp tingle. "Last time Laughing Bat suffered from splitting his forces, but regardless of how many Batmen there are joined for action, no one can say for sure."
Speaking of which, Su Ming felt slightly at a loss too. One crazy Batman is manageable, but clustering together with complementary abilities would be even a challenge for him.
Batman has never been recorded as hit by a Lantern Ring Beam; he can even dodge light... looks like Green Arrow's trump card should be considered...
Not willing to let his companions spook themselves, Su Ming waved his hand to signal them to follow: "Let's not worry about the number of enemies for now, we'll naturally know their count once we find out where they are. The bloody footprints lead toward the back hall; let's move."
Green Arrow stayed vigilant beside him, though his eyes still scanned around, quietly confessing, "Those aren't the issues really, the key question in my mind is... Why is Penguin Man Laughing Bat's target? Doesn't make sense, right?"
Imitating Zorro, Su Ming stroked his little mustache, with the golden thin sword in his hand swaying in the dark as he walked.
If reasons are to be considered, Su Ming could think of connections, yet they were too far-fetched to hold any weight.
"The most famous among Penguin Man's enterprises is his arms smuggling, but the Dark Knight Order has already proven they have no need, equipped with Batman-customized arms... so what else does the Penguin have? Seafood? Or money? Doubt Laughing Bat would be interested in those."
Diana held up her Shield from behind, remaining wary: "This building looks pretty but isn't sturdy at all; Laughing Bat wouldn't choose it for a base. Penguin Man doesn't deal in biological weapons, presumably, he hasn't anything worthy to be coveted."
Su Ming abruptly widened his eyes toward Diana, her words reminded him of something forgotten.
"Penguin Man's identity, that's why Laughing Bat targeted him."
He hastened his pace and spoke quickly while moving.
The others picked up their pace too. Although Diana's body quickly responded, her brain hadn't quite caught up, taking puzzled mind: "What identity? Gotham's crime kingpin?"
"He's no ordinary kingpin; he has a fundamental difference from others," Su Ming stepped over a corpse lying in the corridor, raising a finger.
"Hmm?"
"He's the only surviving member currently engaged in mob activity from the original eight major crime families," Su Ming pushed aside a pile of corpses blocking their path.
Diana still didn't grasp it; neither did Green Arrow guess what Deathstroke intended.
"Gotham was established in the late 19th century, usually, mobs originate around 1930, why? Because U.S. policies back then provided fertile ground for their emergence," Su Ming chuckled, shedding off the intestines clinging to his hand, giving another clue.
Green Arrow got it, somewhat moved by Deathstroke's thinking abilities; he praised with a respectful expression: "Prohibition led private alcohol's enormous profits comparable to modern drug trafficking, causing nationwide mob prosperity. Since making and transporting moonshine meant prison, mobs often set up underground distilleries, using sewers as transport lines."
Su Ming nodded, unexpectedly showing a nostalgic expression: "Indeed, the Kobert family surely engaged in such business back then, he surely has a map of the sewer system from that era. Gotham's sewers consist of four different systems — one built initially with the city, another by mobs during Prohibition, a new one by Owl Court, and the latest, established by Bruce for the government, that's the current operational one."
Oliver held up a thumb: "Then there are three outdated systems forgotten, old sewers often form labyrinthine networks tangled together, hidden from any radar view. To utilize the obsolete sewers, maps are essential."
"Is this why Laughing Bat assaulted him?" Diana reflected upon it, indeed plausible; with satellites unable to detect Laughing Bat, could be due to him going underground.
Deathstroke's speculation could be correct.
She sighed from behind, watching Su Ming's rear head: "Were it not for your age, I might doubt you've experienced the era, dealt in moonshine, why are you so skilled?"
Su Ming silently shrugged with a smile, unable to articulate; Diana's Warrior intuition was sometimes freakishly accurate...