Gordon's words just now, on the surface, were that he didn't want Gwen to take risks, but in reality, he couldn't fathom Gwen's true intentions.
He had been in Gotham for four years and had not been ambushed before.
Early on, some colleagues, after getting off work, put on masks and surrounded him, beating him with baseball bats.
Later, Gordon followed and cut off the car of the person who ambushed him, finally getting a chance for revenge.
Facts proved that if it weren't for the ambush and ganging up, "even if the opponent had a baseball bat and he was empty-handed, the opponent still couldn't beat him."
So, he was a good Police, not a foolish Police.
What if Miss Wayne, on the surface, appeared to be striving for justice, and he, in a moment of impulse, readily believed her, only for her to hand over the recording of their conversation directly to Falcone, selling him out? Then he would be unable to voice his grievances.
In Gotham, unless you reveal your true intentions to each other, it's best not to trust others too much.
At this moment, Gwen also had her own plans.
Would Falcone let her and Brucey know his identity as a crime boss? Gwen thought he wouldn't.
Her understanding of Falcone, apart from their recent few meetings, came more from her knowledge of the original comics and derivative works.
After all, in the original work, Falcone didn't want Alberto to get involved in the business; he wholeheartedly hoped his son would stay away from the bloodshed of the underworld and be an ordinary person.
Clearly, Falcone either believed in having two paths, hoping his younger son would run legitimate businesses, or he didn't want his younger son to also walk the path of crime.
Gwen thought it was the latter.
But if it weren't for his choice, the Holiday Killer would never have appeared.
Of course, that was a story for another time.
Batman hadn't even appeared yet, so the Holiday Killer was even further from being a concern.
And during the past few days of probing, Gwen had also, intentionally or unintentionally, asked Falcone if there was anything the Wayne Group could help with.
Falcone, however, said there was nothing he needed, and even asked Gwen if she needed anything, and if Brucey was doing well, and so on.
If she didn't know his true nature, Gwen might have actually believed he was a gentle, kind uncle... A few days later, outside the elementary school.
The school gate was bustling, parents holding their children's hands, chatting and laughing, with the children's joyful voices intertwining.
However, this lively scene appeared particularly harsh in Brucey's eyes.
Brucey looked at the elementary school gate in front of her, feeling somewhat anxious and uncertain.
She hadn't been here since her parents passed away.
Although she didn't have many friends at school, at least this place didn't make her afraid.
But now, everything was different.
She didn't know why, but the usual, ordinary gazes of others now made her uncomfortable.
She felt the surrounding gazes pierce her like needles.
Passing classmates and parents walked in twos and threes, sometimes whispering to each other, sometimes pointing.
Were they discussing her? Were they talking about her parents' affairs?
School... it was terrifying.
She subconsciously lowered her head, her breathing growing heavier.
"Miss Brucey." A familiar voice sounded in her ear, and Brucey then realized she hadn't come to school alone.
Alfred stood beside her, his expression filled with concern, his eyes full of worry.
"Miss Brucey, is anything the matter?" Brucey slowly raised her head, looked at Alfred's concerned face, gently shook her head, and tried to force a smile, saying, "It's nothing, Alfred."
But the smile was incredibly stiff, unable to hide the sadness and unease in her eyes.
Just then, Gwen also hurried forward. She gently patted Brucey's shoulder, gave her an encouraging look, then turned to Alfred and said firmly, "It's alright, Alfred, I'm here."
Alfred looked at Gwen, then shifted his gaze back to Brucey. He frowned slightly, the worry in his eyes not entirely gone.
After a moment of hesitation, Alfred finally nodded and said, "Very well, Miss Gwen, I'll leave everything to you."
After speaking, he looked at Brucey with lingering concern before intending to return to the car.
Just as Alfred was about to open the car door, Gwen suddenly ran over again: "Alfred."
Alfred turned his head, looking at Gwen with some confusion, and asked, "Miss Gwen, is something wrong?"
Gwen glanced at Brucey, who was standing alone not far away, then said, "The school might call home today, please make sure to answer."
Alfred heard this and paused, his hand, which was resting on the car door, also froze.
He suddenly looked up, clearly seeing Gwen's expression.
Gwen still wore her usual gentle smile, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, but the smile didn't reach her eyes, which subtly revealed a hint of ruthlessness.
Alfred looked at Gwen, wanting to speak several times, but swallowed his words back.
Finally, he just softly said, "Miss Gwen, please be very careful."
Gwen heard this and gently shook her head, "The one who needs to be careful will definitely not be me."
After speaking, she turned back and ran towards Brucey again.
She gently linked her arm with hers and said softly, "Let's go, Brucey, let's go inside."
Brucey, having snapped out of her thoughts, nodded gently.
Although still somewhat sensitive, Gwen's companionship made her feel a little more at ease.
Alfred sighed, got in the car, and drove away.
--- Brucey had some regrets.
At the time, she had chosen to be in a different class than her sister to make new friends.
But honestly, she hadn't made any new friends.
Everyone avoided her, shunned her.
Although her seat was in the center of the classroom, she felt as if she had been forgotten by the World, only able to silently watch other classmates laugh and play.
Even though... she thought these classmates were a bit childish, they seemed very happy.
She was out of place with them.
Normally, Brucey just felt that for some reason, they were afraid of her.
Now, she just felt that these people were mocking her.
When she walked into the classroom, everyone's gaze turned to her.
These gazes were varied: pity, regret, and schadenfreude.
She could occasionally hear quiet whispers behind her, and although she couldn't make out the content, she could roughly guess what it was about.
She didn't know why, but suddenly, she wasn't afraid anymore.
She felt that these people were a bit childish.
Gradually, her mood was like a string that had completely snapped, returning to a dead calm like still Water.
But as everyone knows, at times like these, there's always someone fearless enough to stir up trouble.