Capítulo 3037: Chapter 2192: Battle of the Twin Cities! (33)_2
Bruce's speed of unraveling the knot slowed down as he was caught up in thoughts. He had a good impression of Andrewkin, mainly because the notebook was the only useful clue he received after his parents were murdered.
But why did his memory stop at the point when he replied to Mr. Bert? Could someone have tampered with his memory?
"You must be thinking, if someone gave you clues this early on, why haven't you gathered enough evidence to help the police catch the killer?"
The Joker's voice resonated once more. Bruce lifted his head, seemingly searching for where the Joker was hiding, indicating his desire to find an answer.
"Someone meddled with your memory? Who could that be? Who could possibly make you forget everything?"
Bruce couldn't help but wonder who could have tampered with his memory, causing him to forget all the useful clues. But at that time, only he and Alfred were in Wayne Manor.
Bruce woke up to a realization, it absolutely couldn't be Alfred; that damned criminal must be trying to sow discord between them. This was his scheme.
But if not Alfred, then who could it be?
The question does exist. He didn't think the criminal standing in front of him with a gaping mouth was involved in the case from 10 years ago, for he probably obtained some details of the past incidents from Andrewkin's mouth.
Wait, could it be Andrewkin?
The notebook was just bait, tempting him to the attic again, and he was lurking there, knocking himself out while he was about to leave a note, then induces hypnosis.
But that does not make sense either. This is not normal logic. If someone wanted to kidnap Bruce Wayne, they had him knocked out already. Why didn't they just take him?
If the intention was to erase memories related to the clues, the only useful clue Bruce had at that time was from Andrewkin. If they didn't want Bruce Wayne to get any clues, isn't it better to not provide the notebook in the first place? Why go through the trouble?
Bruce was at a loss for he felt he had considered all possibilities. What did he miss?
"Did you forget? You left a note, Mr. Bert left you new clues, but you chose to forget." Joker's voice rang in Bruce's ear once again.
"Impossible." Bruce instinctively refuted.
At this point, the knot on his hand had been completely untied. He began to hoist Andrewkin up by pulling the hemp rope, but just as he did, the crane shook violently again. Bruce was forced to stop and grip the steel lock tightly.
This time, the shaking lasted for quite a while. Then, Bruce felt he was shifting. He looked down and realized the crane has changed its direction, its long arm stretching to the center of the crossroad.
Below was a dense, barely visible crowd. Everyone was exclaiming, screaming. The dense crowd dispersed like a school of hunted fish, clearing the spot right under Andrewkin.
After the shaking stopped, Bruce started to pull the rope up again, but halfway through, the crane started to shake again. Bruce wanted to hold onto the steel cable, but this time, intense pain shot through the half of his body clinging onto the cable.
Looking up, he saw that madman sitting atop the crane, a wire in his hand sending electricity into the steel cable as the crane swung.
Once again, Bruce fell. It was his hand gripping the steel block that saved him again. With one hand attached to the steel block and the other holding the hemp rope, he lowered his gaze to see the curious crowd and Andrewkin's fearful eyes.
Bruce wanted to make another effort to climb up, but every time he exerted himself, the current would strike him. He could only manage to cover half his body.
Think batman, think carefully, recall, you must have forgotten these memories willingly. But why?
Bruce squinted his eyes with effort and took deep breaths whenever his pain subsided. Just then, he recalled some fragmented details.
He found another notebook in the attic, the scene was the same as before, hence it wasn't a notable memory.
He opened the notebook, there were clues like the first time. Little Bruce studied it again with great care.
A feeling that was both familiar and strange surged up. Bruce suddenly remembered what Joker had said earlier, an unknown young reporter started investigating the serial murder case just before Mr. and Mrs. Wayne's death.
Yes, it was that, the second notebook contained clues about cases that Mr Bert had investigated before the Waynes' incident.
He wrote about his speculations, believing it to be a case of serial murder, and that the Waynes were the next victims, which was why he followed them.
Bruce now knew what that familiar and strange emotion was—disappointment, anger, more profound disappointment, and stronger anger.
They were all the same, they all were demons unafraid of sacrificing lives when it came to gathering news material. Mr. Bert was never about justice either, otherwise, he would have warned the Waynes in advance.
He didn't choose to notify the police or tell them, instead, he secretly followed them, seeking first-hand news material.
The death of Mr. and Mrs. Wayne was destined to be a shocking big piece of news, if he could be at the scene of their deaths, he would become famous overnight.
Bruce was completely wrecked because he remembered he was just as devastated back then; he saw hope and chose to believe, only to be pushed into the abyss again by the ugliness of humanity.
Bruce felt like his chest was hollowed out. The mobile phone cameras in the hands of the crowd below reminded him of the long cannons and short guns crowded in front of him by the reporters.
They were all the same, they all chased hot topics instead of justice and never cared about the occurrence of tragedies.
Why didn't these heart-wrenching tragedies happen to them? Why have they never felt the irreversible weight?
Bruce let out a sigh he had been holding back.
He was once again plunged into the void that he felt when he first heard the tragic news, chest hollow, limbs numb, mind blank.
An unprecedented violent shake, Bruce's survival instincts caused him to unconsciously tighten his grip, holding onto anything he could.
However, right then, a violent electric shock, stronger than any other shocks before, completely numbed Bruce's body and his muscles relaxed, losing grip of all things in his hand.
When he came to, he only heard a faint thud. When he slowly looked down, he saw a spreading pool of blood around the corpse.
"He let go..."
"He let go!"
"He let go!!!"
Regalos
-- Regalo
recibido Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder