The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman

I heard countless familiar voices from those noisy noises. I used to talk and laugh with Yanyan in a luxurious mansion, but at this moment, the hatred in their voices seemed to kill me.

I know it's rude to break into someone's house, it's not in line with the Gotham gang rules, but what drives me to do it is an emotion that I can't explain...

Why on earth are you doing this? Jason asked in the truck, Batman, give me a reason, I believe you are not such an impulsive person.

Although I haven't officially known you for a long time, I think you should be very similar to me. You like to make all the plans before doing something, and try to avoid accidents as much as possible. But what are you now? doing what?

I don't know. Bruce gave an answer that surprised himself, he said: An emotion prompted me to do this.

The shouts around became stronger and stronger, and gunshots began to sound gradually. Most of the people living in the North District were the leaders of big gangs, so the lights here were bright and prosperous.

This place is like an isolated island, standing above the society of Gotham. All the people here are the rule makers and supporters, and they sing praises for it.

Therefore, when a truck that should not be here rushed into here, everyone was screaming and screaming, and the children sitting in the car could see the strong fire rising through the gap in the truck roof.

But their first reaction was not to scream, but to cover their mouths with their hands, and they must not make any noise. This truck is not a good bunker. Once it explodes, no one will survive.

The first thing the truck gets hit is the tires. The gangsters here are not outsiders. Their marksmanship is very accurate. They also know that a flat tire may cause the truck to lose control directly, but as long as it can stop it, it is worth it of.

The front wheel was hit, and there was a bang sound, and white smoke came out. Bruce's hands holding the steering wheel became tighter and tighter. The few remaining muscles in his arms broke out with all his strength, and he turned the steering wheel to control the truck. , kick the accelerator and rush faster.

Where is he going?! Stop him!

Come on! It's the manor area! Hurry up! Hurry up! Shoot!!

It's over, it's over, he's about to rush in, hurry up! Call everyone up, something big has happened!!

Cab! Shoot the cab!!

But the more critical the juncture, the clearer Bruce's thinking became. The route of the truck was constructed in his mind. The position of each gunman, the direction of each muzzle, and the trace of each bullet were all transformed into The flickering light, in front of his eyes, can be seen at a glance.

The blue eyes under the red hood became brighter and brighter, and the speed of the truck became faster and faster, but the pointer of the fuel gauge began to shake gradually.

The gasoline on this truck was put in by the little slippery guy before, and his gasoline was taken from the auto repair school. He is just a kid and can't get that much gasoline. This gasoline can drive the car from the East End As far as the North District is concerned, it is already the limit.

The truck was being shot at all the time, but because it happened so suddenly, most of the thugs were unprepared, and the truck had already rushed over, so the direct firepower was not too fierce, but there were still stray bullets that shot to the carriage, The child who was hit screamed.

This truck is like a short-lived tree, from budding to full-grown and then withered, in just a few minutes, after its most glorious period is over, all that remains is an old and aging body.

With a squeak, there was a weak sound of brakes, and the truck that was emitting white smoke stopped at the gate of a manor. The heavy rain poured down, and the storm kept whistling.

In the rain line, the name on the mailbox, like fallen leaves in a strong wind, kept swaying, but never fell. The letters written on it were very short, but the legend was very long.

It was Falcone who came out of the gate of the manor. He stood at the gate of Falcone's manor, took the black umbrella from the waiter, and looked at the dilapidated truck in front of him expressionlessly.

He saw that the door of the cab was opened, but the person did not step down, but grabbed the door, stepped on the handle and stretched out his hand, and flipped onto the roof of the truck neatly, looking down at Falcone.

The distance between the two was only a few tens of meters, and they could see each other clearly. What Bruce saw was the godfather who came alone, like a stump in a storm. The root system that goes deep into the ground is hard to get a glimpse of.

What Alfalcone saw was a strange man wearing a red hood, standing on a battered truck on a windy and rainy night, and a violent emotion burst out into the sky.

Good evening, Godfather. An extremely hoarse voice was almost inaudible through the strong wind.

The godfather waved his hand, stopped the gunman who was aiming at the side, and made everyone around him retreat. He said, Hi, your car is really nice, and it is very similar to the one I saw a few years ago.

Aren't you going to let them shoot? Bruce asked. Don't you think I'm one of those dangerous lunatics?

Are you referring to the one who always likes to laugh, or the one who likes to steal things, or the one who likes to do human experiments? Falcone looked at Bruce quietly and said, They won't come to me because they Dislike me.

Falcone lowered his head, looked at the puddles in front of his feet, and said: They think I am the most boring person in the world, because I created the most boring order in the world, so they never find pass me.

I just want to ask you a question... Bruce's voice echoed in the rainy night, he walked slowly towards the truck shed, and then he cut a hole in the side shed, when the wind and rain blow in, All the children ran away in horror.

Not only was the cold wind and rain entering the carriage, but the bloody smell of the injured child also wafted out, blowing in front of Falcone.

Godfather, you spent forty years creating rules for Gotham. This rule is not perfect, but it works... But I just want to ask, who are you making these rules for?

Falkner flicked his wrist lightly, and said, Don't go around in circles with me, boy, if I say, I'm for Gotham, you'll say, these kids are not doing well, if I Say, I am for myself, you will say let me be for Gotham.

But in fact, I will make such a rule, just because I come from such an era, in that era, I can only make this choice, and there is no other way.

Forty years have passed, I and it are old, we have fulfilled our mission, but I will not reform it from top to bottom, do you know why?

Bruce looked at the old godfather silently, watching his figure crumbling in the storm, but he never moved.

I set an example and showed them how in that glorious age, we talked and laughed and decided the direction of history. The voice of the godfather always has a special sense of age, as if returning to the torch of the Statue of Liberty The era that illuminated the world.

I let them imitate me and learn to become a civilized person in chaos, just like domesticating a dog. These rules are the chains I use to lead the dog.

I don't have the patience to teach a dog how to be a human, because I know that a dog is a dog, and they will not become a human. They plunder the benefits for me. I use these benefits to light the lights and build the city.

A sufficiently rich society will no longer raise dogs, but will certainly raise people with compassion and sympathy, and among them those who have courage, wisdom, and courage will finally stand in front of me, Say to me, loose your chains and set them free.

The godfather looked at the bright red hood, looked through the hood into Bruce's eyes, and through the eyes into his soul, and said:

These children are a testament to your compassion, this truck is a testament to your courage, this journey is a testament to your wisdom, and being face to face with me is a testament to your courage...

Now, you can say what you have to say, and after you have said it, I will say what I have to say.

Some of the intense emotions in Bruce's chest suddenly dissipated and turned into a slightly bitter emotion.

He passed all the way, overcame thorns and thorns, but the one waiting at the finish line was not the devil king, but the previous brave man.

In the last era, a brave man who failed to reach the end due to vision, knowledge, wisdom, and social conditions.

In the whistling wind, Bruce's voice came: A friend of mine told me that this road doesn't mean winning until you reach the end.

Obviously, this was not the sentence the godfather wanted to hear. He didn't expect that the people who came here would say this sentence to him.

But he was not happy, but said: If this will make you shake and give up, then you are doomed to fail, don't waste my time anymore.

Even if there is no perfect solution to this question, the gangster society must be the worst answer to be wrong. Bruce paused, but still said the sentence: It's time for the old rules to retire, Godfather Your Excellency.

Falcone turned around and walked slowly towards the manor. His leather shoes stepped on the puddles, and every drop of water splashed was like gold scoured from the gravel in that chaotic era.

Finally, he stood in the light of the gate of the manor, crossed himself on his chest, and whispered, God bless Gotham, Amen.

When his figure disappeared, the lights in the manor slowly went out. The godfather had never fallen asleep so early, but with the disappearance of the lights in his bedroom window, the light of the Gotham lighthouse became weaker.

Every era will pass, and the arm that holds the torch high and cannot be let go will eventually turn into a decaying ship's wood with the storm every night, sinking on the bottom of the sea, watching the giant ship of history pass by.

Standing on top of the dilapidated truck in the stormy night, Bruce saw the lights of the entire North District gradually go out, leaving only the deafening sound of rain and the red hood that was particularly conspicuous in the dark rainy night.

Jason, who was lying in the car, understood this conversation better than those ignorant children, or he even understood it better than Bruce.

In this dream full of confusion, Jason woke up suddenly, sat up from the seat, and stretched out a hand out of the car window. The wind wrote a long poem on his arm with raindrops.

Bruce takes off his hood, the disguise no longer makes sense.

He dropped the hood on the roof of the truck, and it slid down the rain-wet metal surface, dripping slowly like dew on a newborn leaf.

The red hood was caught by an immature hand, and the five fingers were slowly gathered. In the dark rainy night, Jason tightly grasped the only color.

The fingers gradually elongated, and the shallow scars climbed up. After putting down the stack of papers in his hands, Bruce looked at Alfred with a little expectation.

Alfred, holding a candle, walked slowly to the door, turned to look at Bruce and said, I like the last scene, you wrote it very well, sir.

Why? Is it because this is the climax of the narrative?

No, because, I like the color of the hood.

tired