Of course, the young Italian man naturally had no idea what Gordon was saying about him in his heart.
He spread his arms, a warm smile on his face, adopting a welcoming posture, and asked, "What a rare guest, officers, is there something I can help you with?"
Brock gave Gordon a reproachful side-glance, showing an expression that complained about Gordon's reckless actions.
Then, he immediately put on a fawning expression and said to the young man, "I didn't dare to disturb you, but my colleague here, not knowing what's good for him, took on a thankless task."
Brock paused, then asked in a probing tone, "Are you aware of the tragic case that happened on Park Row?"
The young man nodded slightly upon hearing this, his face still maintaining that affected, profound expression: "This is no small matter... the whole of Gotham is abuzz about it, anyone on the street knows about it. After all, it was the Wayne Couple who died, and they were prominent figures in our Gotham."
He paused slightly at this point, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Brock and Gordon, then he asked, "You two, you haven't gotten involved in this murky business, have you?"
"You guessed right," Brock sighed appropriately, saying helplessly, "I told this guy not to take this lousy assignment, but he wasn't afraid of death and insisted on taking it. Such a big deal, if it weren't for this grandson dragging me into it, I wouldn't want to be involved even if you killed me. Sigh... I have no choice but to ask Mr. Falcone for your help."
After hearing Brock's words, the young man slowly turned his gaze to Gordon, who was beside Brock.
A strange arc pulled at the corner of his mouth, and there was not a trace of warmth in that smile.
Gordon could feel that the other party's gaze towards him held only mockery.
After sizing up Gordon, the young man spoke in a sarcastic, taunting tone: "James Gordon, the only Police in Gotham Police Department rumored to uphold justice. Wanting to catch the killer of the Wayne Couple, that's a truly noble and righteous idea."
In other places, giving a Police this evaluation would definitely be a compliment.
But alas, this was Gotham.
Gotham, by using the word 'justice,' cleverly avoided the impoliteness of using the word 'stupid,' while completely retaining the insulting nature of the word.
Gordon pressed his lips together, his eyes cold, not at all angered by the other party's few words.
He watched the other party approach him step by step without a word, wary of the thin man suddenly lashing out.
The man showed no intention of stopping, continuing to approach while sneering, "But in our city of Gotham, how much use can a righteous detective be? Look now, to find a murderer, one even has to come to the gang for help. This matter, it truly makes one want to laugh."
His voice was full of disdain, echoing in the empty bar, even causing a reverberation.
And as he finished speaking, the man had already walked in front of Gordon.
Just then, a ringing sound suddenly came from Gordon's inner pocket.
The man was startled by the sudden sound, then mockingly said with understanding, "Oh, our righteous detective's phone is ringing, aren't you going to answer it?"
Gordon ignored the man's question, his face solemn, silently pulling out the furiously ringing item from his pocket.
However, when he took out the ringing item from his pocket, the man couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
In this era where phones were either keypad phones or brick phones, a device that looked like a PSP was quite unusual.
Yes, what he took out of his pocket was precisely the tracking device Gwen had given him.
And when Gordon scanned the device and saw the reason for the alarm, he subtly frowned.
Besides being able to locate lost wallets and necklaces, the device had another function.
When one of the tracked items was very close to him, the tracking device would emit an alert sound.
But from just now until then, Gordon had been standing still, not moving. Looking around, the only one approaching him was the man in front of him, whose face was full of mockery.
So... could it be?
The young man walked up to Gordon, still wanting to say some witty remark to continue teasing, but he saw Gordon's expression sharpen, and he slowly extended his hand.
"Take it out."
The young man's body suddenly stiffened upon hearing this.
He looked into Gordon's eyes, without any hint of probing, as if he had confirmed something.
Damn it... where did he make a mistake? How did the other party see through him?
But these thoughts and actions were cleverly transformed into an expression of confusion.
The young man looked at Gordon, who had extended his hand towards him, with a troubled expression, showing no panic. Instead, he raised an eyebrow slightly and feigned confusion, asking in return, "Take out what? Chief Gordon, I'm completely bewildered by what you're saying."
Although he reacted quickly, Gordon knew through the device that the stolen goods were on the other party, so he naturally wouldn't be fooled.
Gordon looked into the other party's eyes and pointed it out directly without hesitation: "Stop pretending, I know the Wayne Couple's belongings are on you."
Hearing this, a hint of ferocity flashed in the young man's eyes as he stared intently at Gordon.
Before becoming a Police, Gordon had not only served in special forces but had also been on the battlefield.
He knew too well what kind of gaze a person who had truly taken human lives should possess.
But how could a butcher who slaughters lambs awaiting slaughter be compared to someone who has climbed out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, and hunted hunters?
The young man quickly felt the aura of the Police, who was also not much older, begin to rise steadily.
An aura of someone who had climbed out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood gradually emerged, making him feel pressure.
It was as if he was just a small fry, and the other party was Falcone's child.
The two of them stared at each other like that, their gazes meeting in the air, looking at each other for a long time. The surrounding air seemed to solidify, filled with a thick scent of gunpowder.
Time seemed to stand still at this moment, and all sound in the bar seemed to disappear.
Finally, whether it was because he couldn't bear it any longer, or to give himself a way out, the young man smiled, breaking the suffocating silence.
He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a leather wallet.
The wallet was exquisitely designed, and under the dim yellow lights of the bar, it faintly shimmered with a metallic luster.
Undoubtedly, it was one of the items stolen from the Wayne Couple that night.
"Don't be so tense, Chief Gordon, I was just... playing a little joke."