Not long after Gwen left, another Police Officer in uniform arrived at the entrance of the archives.
The Police Officer cautiously looked left and right, and after confirming that no one was paying attention, he quickly slipped into the archives.
The archives were filled with a mixture of old paper and dust, but he was already used to it.
Relying on his rich experience, he quickly moved through the towering archive shelves and soon found the shelf he was looking for.
He directly picked up the archive bag Gwen had left, pulled out a pen from his pocket, and prepared to modify the archives as planned.
However, just as he was about to open the archive bag, his hand movements suddenly paused, and his brow furrowed unconsciously.
After all, this was a fake archive meticulously forged by Gwen, and to ensure it was foolproof, Gwen had put in a lot of effort.
And this meticulous preparation was reflected in every aspect.
The string sealing the archive bag was neatly wound, circle after circle, right to the end.
But this was the Gotham Police Department, where archive bags were frequently taken in and out. Under normal circumstances, the string would at most be casually wound two or three times, never so meticulously.
However, even though this made the Police Officer feel vaguely uneasy, he did not pay much attention to it, simply assuming it was the work of a rookie Police Officer.
When he took a deep breath and opened the archive bag, in an instant, the contents that met his eyes made him freeze in place.
The contents of the archive were chaotic; apart from the clear and complete autopsy results, the rest appeared somewhat disfigured, not at all like a properly filed document.
Combining these points, an idea appeared in his mind.
"Could it be... that it has already been sabotaged by others?" An uneasy feeling surged in the Police Officer's heart, but he quickly calmed down, secretly speculating that it shouldn't be done by the people sent by the employer.
After all, the employer had already paid the deposit, so they shouldn't need to find others to do it.
Then, was it someone sent by other forces?
Oh well, getting paid without doing any work, isn't that wonderful?
He put the archive bag back as it was, whistled, and left the archives with light steps.
Not far away, Gwen, mixed among a group of people reporting to the Police, took it all in.
After confirming that the Police Officer had gone far, the corners of her mouth slightly curved upwards, and she walked out of the Police Department with the crowd as if nothing had happened... In Wayne Manor, the diligent old butler was organizing accounts in the study.
He didn't know whether to be glad that Thomas trusted him too much, or to complain that he pushed everything onto him.
Letting him, the butler, organize the accounts, Thomas wasn't afraid at all that he would pocket some money.
Would Alfred do that? Obviously not.
After so many years of living together, he had come to regard The Wayne Family as his own family.
Who would steal from their own family? He wasn't an ignorant child, after all.
Suddenly, a sharp, urgent telephone ring broke the stillness of the study.
The sudden ringing of the telephone startled Alfred, making his body tremble slightly, and he subconsciously glanced at the clock.
It was still early; logically, Mr. Wayne and Mrs. Wayne should still be taking Brucey to see a movie.
Could it be something with Miss Gwen?
Thinking of this, he stood up, straightened his clothes, and walked over to the landline phone.
"Hello, Mr. Thomas is not home. Please call back later."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, the atmosphere seemingly solidified.
Then, a voice tinged with sadness came through.
"Hello, I am James Gordon of the Gotham Police Department. A homicide has occurred here on Park Row. The Police have confirmed the deceased are Mr. Thomas Wayne and his wife, Mrs. Martha Wayne."
Alfred's hands instantly froze, his face immediately drained of color, and the receiver almost dropped to the floor.
His mind felt a sudden dizzying spin, as if the entire World was collapsing at that moment.
The Mr. Wayne and Mrs. Wayne he had known for many years had suddenly met with misfortune; this news was like a heavy hammer, striking hard at his heart.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself: "Alright, I'll be right over."
After hastily giving a few instructions to the other servants in the house, he rushed out the door in a hurry.
Getting into the car he usually drove, Alfred quickly shifted gears, and the sedan shot forward like a flash of lightning, speeding towards Park Row.
It was a good thing he hadn't heard the news of the young lady's death, otherwise he might have come even faster.
With a speed even greater than when he picked up Gwen, Alfred arrived at Park Row.
By this time, the entire scene was already cordoned off, packed with people, and discussions rose and fell.
"I heard the Wayne Couple were murdered. Gotham is about to change!"
"Maybe they offended someone. Now The Wayne Family is finished."
"This matter is too strange. Could it be the dirty work of The Wayne Family's business rivals?"
"It might be done by those thugs who resent The Wayne Family's wealth. In this World, rich people always attract envy."
"How pitiful, only one child left alive in the family."
"You pity the rich, but they might not pity you. Maybe the remaining child is hoping their parents die so they can inherit the family fortune."
"Exactly, how much do you earn in a month? And you're pitying a big rich man."
He pushed hard with both hands, struggling to part the surrounding crowd, step by step walking towards the center of the crime scene.
When Alfred finally squeezed inside, he saw two leading Police Officers arguing heatedly, refusing to back down.
Not far away, Brucey sat on a staircase in a corner, her eyes lost, staring blankly ahead, as if her soul had been extracted.
The biting cold wind howled, blowing her now messy hair, but failing to stir even a ripple on her lifeless face.
The luxurious clothes she wore when she left home now appeared so drab, and she was draped in a suit jacket, clearly belonging to one of the Police Officers here.
"Miss Brucey!" Alfred called out to her.
Brucey, whose eyes were originally hollow, subconsciously looked in the direction of the voice. Seeing Alfred, her dim gaze instantly lit up, and she ran over, hugging him tightly.
Alfred steadily caught his young lady, gently patted her back, and softly comforted her: "It's alright, Miss, I'm here."
The two Police Officers who were arguing not far away grew increasingly agitated.
The middle-aged Police Officer's face was flushed red, veins bulging on his forehead like hideous little snakes.
He suddenly pointed at the young Police Officer and cursed loudly: "Jim! Did a door slam on your head? Investigating the Wayne Couple's case, you're trying to get us all killed!!"
The young Police Officer opposite him turned red, stretching his neck long, and retorted without backing down: "Harvey! You're just a coward! As a Police Officer, you want to be a coward when faced with a tough case. Do you deserve that uniform?"
Harvey trembled with rage, stomping his feet heavily, raising a cloud of dust: "Fine! You want to show off, you go ahead. I'm not playing along!" With that, he slammed the documents in his hand to the ground and turned to leave.