chsdbacks Chapter 56 Returns with the Same Curvy Butt
Chapter 56 Returns with the Same Curvy Butt
The figure on the ceiling is Dick Grayson, who had been on the run for a week. After killing Barron, the boy, who had been hiding, had miraculously survived the riots.
Hidden in the labyrinthine alleys of the lower district, he lived with a gang of beggars, surviving on roasted rats and bread crumbs from garbage cans. In moments of helplessness, he tried to find Qin Wei, but when he learned of the Roman settlement in the eastern district, he was greeted only by the tightly closed doors of the Senate.
Living in a dirty and messy environment for a long time has caused the sutured surgical wound to crack and ooze pus.
Thinking the Romans were still after him, Dick didn't dare go to the hospital. Knowing he was dying, he decided to pull off one last big heist and take a few gangsters down with him.
Turning their attention to Royce, the Roman leader in the North District, Dick, a seasoned trapeze artist, stealthily infiltrated the area.
If it weren't for Reus's final murmur, he would have succeeded.
Knowing that the other party might be Qin Wei's friend, Dick hesitated for a long time before finally giving up the assassination attempt.
After Royce left, he climbed down from the ceiling.
An unbearable hunger, accompanied by dizziness, swept over him, and Dick, who should have left as soon as possible, inexplicably wandered into the kitchen.
Half a piece of hardened bread, the jam jar almost empty, and the butter riddled with holes from being gnawed by rats and cockroaches—under the moonlight, Dick swept through the kitchen and stuffed everything edible into his stomach.
The Royce faction lived in far more poverty than he had imagined.
Dick, huddled behind the dining table, resembled a hungry hamster, clutching food in his arms and chewing and swallowing it greedily.
pat!
The kitchen lights suddenly turned on, and Dick shuddered, still praying that he wouldn't be discovered, when Royce's languid voice drifted over.
"Would you like a sandwich?"
Was he talking to me? Dick blinked suspiciously, not daring to make a move.
Across the filthy dining table, Reus turned on the gas stove, took a frying pan from the overhead cabinet, and twirled it around by the handle.
"Did you take the butter?"
At this moment, Dick was finally convinced that the other party had discovered him, and with a whoosh, he dropped the food in his arms and rushed towards the window.
This is the first floor. As long as we break through the window and escape, the darkness of the lower district will provide the best cover.
Click!
The spring pushed the metal bolt, and the crisp sound pinned him to the spot.
Trembling, Royce turned around, held his gun in one hand, and lit a cigarette by the flame of the gas stove.
"Phew~ If a guest leaves without saying goodbye, I usually wonder if I haven't been a good host."
……
If Reus hadn't stepped on the bloodstains on the ground, he would never have noticed that someone had broken in.
He lay on the floor for a while, examining the small pool of blood. He noticed that it was splattered in a spiderweb pattern, likely caused by dripping from a height. He got up and, sure enough, found two dirty handprints on the wall near the ceiling.
The infiltrators couldn't be the Red Hood gang; those idiots are just like their boss Jason Todd—they'll never beat around the bush if they can just go head-to-head.
Infiltrating the Roman settlement without causing a commotion, the only person Reuss could think of who would do that was the assassination of Grayson from Baron.
You must be starving after hiding for so many days.
Royce crept into the kitchen and, sure enough, heard a gnawing sound.
In the past, Royce would have definitely tied the boy up and sent him to Maroni, but now that he had a change of heart and heard Qin Wei complaining about the lack of manpower, he wanted to recruit Dick.
With his family murdered by the mob and himself wanted by Maroney, Dick is the perfect recruit; there's no need to worry about him betraying the organization.
Moreover, this kid is quite capable; he was able to take down Baron and sneak into his house without a sound. He is indeed worth recruiting.
Unbeknownst to Royce, he had already reached the same conclusion as Qin Wei.
……
After frying the eggs, two slices of toast popped out of the bread machine. Reuss took a slice of bacon from the basket, hesitated for a moment, then tore it in half and put it back.
Royce spread bacon and eggs on the sandwich, placed two slices of toast on top, picked up a knife, inserted it into the sandwich, blew on it, and then held it up to Dick.
"Open your mouth!"
Bound hand and foot, Dick's face was full of resistance, but his body was honest. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and took a big bite.
"What do you want to do!"
Dick asked aggressively, his eyes fixed on the sandwich.
"Interested in joining...?"
"Even if you kill me, I will not join the Romans! You butchers, you despicable..."
Royce shoved the whole sandwich into the boy's mouth, silencing his foul mouth in time.
He turned and retrieved a bottle of antibiotics that was about to expire, a roll of gauze, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. When he had just tied Dick up, he noticed that the boy was still wearing that tattered green bodysuit, his wounds were open, and blood had stained half of his chest red.
Royce tore open Dick's clothes.
The horrifying wound was exposed before his eyes, the swollen flesh turned inside out like daisy petals, the blood hole filled with dark brown rotten blood, making Royce's heart tighten.
He heated and sterilized the scissors on the gas stove. Royce carefully helped Dick cut away the rotten flesh around the wound and wiped away the pus and blood with a cotton ball. Then came the most grueling step.
"It might hurt a little, but please don't make a sound. My men are all asleep, so don't disturb them," Royce said, stuffing a cotton ball into the boy's mouth and unscrewing the bottle cap.
Hydrogen peroxide seeped into the wound little by little, and Dick began to convulse violently, making incoherent whimpering sounds, clearly showing that he was trying his best to endure it.
But even the strongest human willpower has its limits. Under the repeated onslaught of excruciating pain, the boy's eyes rolled back and he fainted.
Meanwhile, in the Civic District, adjacent to Gotham's Lower District, a cocktail party was in full swing.
Aside from the socialites who were invited, the participants in this party were mostly Gotham City tycoons and wealthy family investors. As the music gradually stopped and the drinks and food on the dance floor were removed, the eyes of these guys, which had been drowsy, gradually brightened.
Yes, the cocktail party was just a front; behind it was an auction for Gotham municipal engineering projects and the rental rights to a large venue.
This was the case decades ago. These projects, which should have been open and transparent bidding processes, were swept up and divided up by financial oligarchs, powerful families, and gangsters at extremely low prices. Small and medium-sized companies had nowhere to get a share and could only become a link in the supply chain of these behemoths, eventually being swallowed up and acquired due to insufficient income.
Countless people have lost their jobs, gone bankrupt, and ended up on the streets, either joining gangs, becoming beggars, or harboring resentment and becoming destabilizing factors that shake up social order.
The poor get poorer and the rich get richer; this is the crux of Gotham's corruption and decadence.
The secret auction has come to a close, with all the major powers making gains and completely dividing Gotham apart.
Falcone secured the ten-year lease renewal rights for the Port Miller black market for 435 million, while Maroni offered only a low price and then stopped competing, turning his attention to the unpopular redevelopment rights for Robinson Park in the city center.
As the stadium lights went out and guests left, Maroni met Falcone, who was about to leave, at the hotel entrance.
"Mr. Falcone, it's been a long time."
Falcone did not respond, but merely glanced at him coldly before ducking under the umbrella and leaving, surrounded by his men.
Maroni wasn't annoyed. In the drizzling rain under the eaves, he raised his wrist and glanced at the time.
5 seconds left
4 seconds left
3 seconds left
……
He glanced at it one last time and saw Falcone cross the street and get into the car right under his nose.
2 seconds left
1 seconds left
……
The headlights came on, and the car shook as the engine started.
boom!
A pillar of fire shot into the sky, and the powerful shockwave knocked Maroni to the ground.
The ground trembled briefly following the earth-shattering explosion, and sirens blared from vehicles parked along the roadside.
But to Maroni, these alarms sounded like the trumpets played by angels—so beautiful, so melodious.
"From this moment on... I am the King of Gotham!"
Amidst the screams of passersby, he slowly and methodically swept his hair back.
Maroni's crazed eyes reflected Falcone's burning car.