Harvey's pen scratched across his notebook, meticulously recording the information Gwen provided.
Just as he finished the last line, Gwen proactively asked, "Officer Brock, could you tell me more about the body? After all, the killer is most likely targeting the Wayne Family, and I'd like to understand more."
Hearing this, Harvey's fingers subconsciously rubbed the edge of his notebook. After a moment of thought, he nodded, "I understand."
"The deceased was a gangster, from..." He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze briefly lingering on Gwen's face before he continued, "He was a locally-born and raised Gotham gangster."
Gwen raised an eyebrow slightly at his words.
Harvey had definitely found information about which gang he belonged to, but was now deliberately concealing it.
However, she wasn't surprised by this.
In a chaotic place like Gotham, various forces are deeply intertwined.
As a Police, Harvey was willing to reveal the victim's identity, but only out of fear of the Wayne Family's power and not wanting to offend the Wayne Family.
The deliberate concealment of the specific gang's name was for the same reason.
He didn't want to offend that gang, and it was even possible that... that gang had dealings with the Wayne Family.
If he revealed the name, it could, to some extent, be seen as sowing discord.
Although Harvey was a good Police, he was also an old hand, so he naturally wouldn't do anything detrimental to himself.
Realizing this, Gwen understood. She stood up proactively and politely asked, "Since that's the case, I've explained everything I know about the situation at the time. May I leave now?"
Gordon was about to speak and try to keep her, but Harvey cut him off, a smile plastered on his face, and waved his hand, "Yes, yes, Miss Wayne, you've worked hard today. If we have any more questions later, we'll contact you."
Gwen said nothing more, just nodded, and left the Police Department's visitor room with Alfred.
As the door slowly closed, Gordon looked at Harvey, full of confusion, "You just let her go? We still have a lot of questions we haven't clarified."
Harvey's smile vanished, his expression grave, "Some things, it's best to leave them unsaid. The Wayne Family's affairs, we shouldn't get too deeply involved..."
With that, he looked towards the door, his eyes reflecting a hint of complexity.
Gotham, oh Gotham... being a Police here is like walking a tightrope... Night.
Inside the Gotham Police Department, the lights were bright, but there were few people.
This wasn't because there were no cases at night and the Police Officers didn't need to work overtime; on the contrary, Gotham's nights were the busiest time for the Police Department.
At this moment, the Police Officers on the night shift were rushing to various corners of the city, dealing with an endless stream of cases.
After all, this was Gotham. You never knew when, in some dark alley, the bodies of a couple might be found, with a crying child standing beside them.
At the Police Department's front desk, two Police Officers chatted idly, their conversation drifting from last night's football game to the new pizza place down the street.
They were completely unaware that a slender Shadow had slipped in like a ghost.
The 4-year-old girl was small, not even as tall as an office desk. She hunched over, trying to keep her body low, carefully weaving between the desks and chairs.
Relying on her unique childish smallness and agility, combined with the intentional and unintentional guidance of her butler, Alfred, she successfully avoided the few Police Officers present and smoothly slipped into the archives room.
The archives room was filled with the scent of old paper. Gwen, with practiced ease, opened a file folder according to the archiving date.
Under the faint light from the window, a file on a burly man came into view. The photo attached to it was of the same burly man she had encountered in the restroom earlier.
Just as Gwen was about to examine it closely, the door to the archives room creaked open.
"Who's there?" A familiar voice rang out. Gwen's heart tightened, recognizing it as the voice she had heard that morning.
Using the faint light that streamed in when the door opened, Gwen, with quick reflexes, swiftly put the file back in its place.
Then, her right hand skillfully operated the Omnitrix on her left wrist.
After the dial displayed an alien hero she most often transformed into, Gwen pressed the popped-up dial.
Gordon passed by the archives room door and happened to see the door slowly closing, but after a long time, the lights inside didn't turn on.
A hint of doubt crept into his mind. Someone entered the archives room? Then why didn't they turn on the lights?
Didn't want to be discovered?!
Realizing the problem, Gordon immediately tensed up, pushed off with his feet, rushed to the archives room door in a few steps, pulled the door open with a "whoosh," and loudly shouted, "Who's there?"
Not long after he spoke, a strange purple light flashed from the depths of the archives room.
Gordon's heart skipped a beat. Although he hadn't officially been a Police for many years, his vigilance against danger made him instantly alert.
His right hand quickly reached for his waist, skillfully pulling out his service pistol. His left hand extended slightly forward, using the wall and archive shelves for cover, as he cautiously moved towards the source of the light.
The archives room was filled with tall archive shelves, casting deep Shadows.
With every step Gordon took, he could hear his own tense heartbeat.
He crouched low, his eyes scanning the surroundings vigilantly, not missing a single corner.
But when he checked between the rows of archive shelves, he found them empty.
Gordon frowned and looked at the tightly closed window not far away.
The design, which could only be locked from the inside, made him certain that if someone had truly broken in, they couldn't have left through the window.
He carefully checked the archive shelves again. All the files were neatly arranged, with no signs of being disturbed.
There were no footprints or other suspicious items left on the ground.
After confirming that everything was normal, Gordon put away his service pistol, his head tilted in confusion.
Did he imagine it?
As the young future Director, Gordon secretly thought about finding time to get glasses, wondering if he had glaucoma.
He took one last look at the archives room, then turned and closed the door.
After Gordon left the archives room, the entire space fell into a dead silence, with only the old-fashioned wall clock ticking monotonously and dully.
After a while longer, there was finally movement in the archives room again.
A palm-sized alien with large eyes poked its head out from an archive box.
Its body was gray, and its two large eyeballs vigilantly surveyed its surroundings, looking like a telescope that had come to life.
But to say it was ugly wouldn't be accurate; it was more like an ugly-cute.
After confirming that no one was around, Grey Matter's limbs trembled slightly, clearly relieved.
Subsequently, it was forced to climb upwards with its small body, somewhat strenuously.
One must know that the shelves here were set quite high to accommodate entire evidence boxes.
After finally climbing to the corresponding shelf, it pulled out the file it had been looking at earlier from the file bag with its slender fingers and began to read it carefully.
The main subject of the file was an Italian-American Gotham native named Antonio Rossi.
Grey Matter continued to read. When it saw the investigated gang boss he belonged to, it almost couldn't help but exclaim, "Falcone?!"