Bruce's fingers were sticking to a strand of fluff.
It was a pale blue, very short, and extremely fine; if you didn't look closely, you couldn't see it at all, but he knew exactly where it came from, and he was all too familiar with it.
To protect the crime scene, the police would need to use shoe covers, which were uniformly purchased and supplied by the precinct, and the same material would leave the same kind of traces.
The house Bruce rented was very small, just a few steps from the front door to the bedroom, and you had to pass a wall for sure, and now he was squatting beside this wall, staring at the fluff obviously left by the precinct's shoe covers.
He stood up, pushed open the bedroom door, and Gordon turned his eyes to look at him, as if knowing what he was about to say.
"Who has been here?" Bruce asked.
"Ge Yin," Gordon said, "I was too worried about The Clawed Killer, but she obviously made too many mistakes during the investigation and capture. I have some suggestions to tell her."
"I don't want any more kids to suffer because of this." Gordon showed a pained expression, turned his head and said, "I know I promised you I wouldn't bring more cops into your life, but this is the only exception, Bruce, the last time."
Mentioning The Clawed Killer, Bruce furrowed his brow slightly, yet he lowered his arms and said, "Let the police handle police matters, James, you're no longer the police commissioner."
"Of course." Gordon looked blankly at the ceiling and said, "Like I said, this is the last time."
Bruce's gaze lingered on the radio he was holding, but he quickly averted his eyes, stepped out of the bedroom, and saw that the television was once again broadcasting news about The Clawed Killer.
However, this time the news mentioned that Spider-kid, who had been active in the New York sky recently, seemed to have encountered this killer devil. The former was investigating and pursuing the latter, while the police expressed that perhaps such a supercriminal should be dealt with by superheroes.
Bruce showed a look of annoyance.
Spider Man, after school, saw a familiar figure; it was Bruce, but he was being chased by several strong men.
Spider Man couldn't care less and immediately rushed up, knocking down those strong men with a few punches and saving Bruce.
"What happened to you?" Spider Man asked.
Bruce wiped the corner of his injured mouth, stood up and said, "I'm fine."
After he spoke, he was about to leave, when Spider Man quickly grabbed him and asked while looking at the group of men, "Who are they? Why are they chasing you? Won't you call the police?"
Bruce acted as if he was bound by secrecy and did not want to say more. He just waved his hand at Spider Man and said, "You better go home. It's none of your business."
"How can it be none of my business? They dare to chase you here in broad daylight; don't the police care?"
"They're people from my creditors." Bruce said, lowering his eyelids, "It's only right to repay debts. How can the police get involved with that?"
"You owe them money?" Spider Man immediately understood and looked at Bruce, "You took out a high-interest loan? Why would you do that?"
"Because I'm broke."
"You... what did you need so much money for?"
"I damaged a very expensive limited edition gift set and caused my boss to lose a major client. I had to pay him back."
"What happened?" Spider Man remembered, since Jason had said that the doll they had bought was actually the one previously damaged by Bruce, it showed that he truly was clumsy at his job.
However, Spider Man decided to ask for the details. He took Bruce to a burger joint he often visited at the school entrance, planning to treat Bruce to dinner and inquire about what had recently happened.
The two of them ordered two set meals, sitting by the window of the burger shop, watching the comings and goings at the school entrance, Bruce took a big bite of his burger and said, "Yesterday, my boss asked me to deliver a birthday present for one of his old customers' child turning eight. It was a limited edition toy set ordered from Belgium, customized well in advance, and the only one of its kind, rare and expensive."
"My boss has always wanted to move the shop to that customer's neighborhood because it's an affluent area where more people would be willing to buy gifts. If that had gone well, the shop could've moved smoothly, and by throwing an opening party, we could've accumulated a lot of customers."
"Did you mess it up?"
Bruce sighed and said, "I wouldn't have, but I was driving my boss's car on the road, and the gift was properly placed in the trunk. Unexpectedly, the car in front lost control, overturned, and came skidding across the road, I couldn't brake in time and ended up being part of a pile-up."
"Fortunately, it only hit the front end of the car. I took the gift out of the trunk, intending to bypass the accident scene and then take a cab there, but for some reason, everyone started rushing behind me, pushing me to the roadside."
"A big guy was just running and didn't see me at all, he knocked me over, and the gift box flew out of my hand. A truck, also unable to brake in time, overturned by the roadside and landed precisely on the box."
"Of course, the gift was completely smashed," Bruce said, turning away, "Empty-handed, I arrived at that customer's house and was kicked out. The boss's relocation plan was ruined, and I was fired."
"But that set of gifts is very expensive, and I must compensate, or else I'll end up in court and jail, leaving Gordon completely unattended, but I don't have that much money."
"I didn't have any savings to begin with, and now that I've lost one job, it's impossible to make that much money quickly with the remaining two jobs. I had no choice but to consider taking out a loan."
"But my credit score isn't good enough, and I don't have any assets to use as collateral. Regular banks wouldn't lend to me. I met a colleague who did loans when I was working before, and he put me in touch with the mob."
Spider-Man covered his forehead, but then he suddenly realized something. He looked at Bruce and asked, "Which route did you take when you were delivering?"
"I took Third Avenue from Queens District to Manhattan, the one where you go around from Hall Street and then a bit further ahead is the bridge."
Spider-Man suddenly froze because he remembered that he was on that road yesterday catching The Clawed Killer.
Recently, this killer had been very active, and Spider-Man quickly caught onto his tail as he tried to ambush children by hiding under a children's toy slide. Spider-Man charged straight at him.
But this guy truly wasn't human—he could teleport, and his pair of talons appeared and disappeared unpredictably, almost slashing through Spider-Man's suit.
But he wouldn't let off a killer threatening so many families that easily. So with the help of his Spider-sense and greatly enhanced strength, he engaged in several back-and-forths with The Clawed Killer.
In the midst of battle, Spider-Man found out that this guy was called Freddy, from Elm Street District, and he seemed to have a peculiar interest in children and was extremely brutal and disturbed.
This only made Spider-Man more determined not to let him go. Though Little Spider's combat experience wasn't rich, the strength from his spider mutation was indeed powerful, and he gave Freddy a serious beating.
Freddy, it seemed, didn't want to entangle with him. Upon realizing he was overpowered, he turned to run, and Spider-Man, without a second thought, gave chase.
The ensuing chase was quite classic. Freddy appeared in one car after another, causing the drivers to panic and swerve, leading to serious traffic accidents and congestion.
Spider-Man knew he was using these tricks to try to stop him, but he wasn't fooled at all. He swung over the cars at top speed, punched through car windows, and pulled Freddy out. After he teleported away, Spider-Man quickly locked onto the target again and kicked him out of an advertising billboard.
Spider-Man certainly saw the severe traffic accidents and the fleeing crowd below, but at that moment, his eyes were fixed solely on the damned killer. He wished he could bring him to justice immediately, so he only focused on the relentless pursuit and had no time to stop and manage traffic.
What made Spider-Man sure that the main culprit for Bruce's current situation was the overturned truck he encountered. At that moment, the truck lay before him, with Freddy crawling out from the cab, slipping away like an eel.
He pulled the driver out of the cabin to prevent secondary injuries, but he didn't notice a gift box on the ground where the truck had overturned.
"Do you know what happened?" Spider-Man asked, slightly guilt-ridden.
Bruce shook his head and said, "The police who arrived later said it was a superhero called Spider-Man chasing a killer."
"Superhero, huh?" Bruce put down the wrapper of the hamburger and muttered to himself, "...well, not for me."
Spider-Man returned home with his mind preoccupied. Jason's illness had improved, and now he was cooking in the kitchen, with two dishes already on the table.
Jason's street life had endowed him with decent cooking skills, particularly adept at Gotham's random stews—basically throwing any ingredients suitable for stewing into a pot and adding a liberal amount of chili pepper. The results were rather tasty.
After setting a large pot of stew on the table, Jason sat across from Spider-Man and observed his demeanor. "What's wrong with you? Why the long face?" he asked.
Spider-Man opened his mouth, fell silent, and after a while, he said, "I think I caused some trouble."
He laid his hands on the table and briefly explained what had happened. Jason sighed and said nothing.
"I thought you'd give me some advice," Spider-Man said. "Tell me something like, as long as I live up to myself, that's good enough."
"We both know that's a lie," Jason said very frankly. "If everyone just thought about living up to themselves, the world would have been finished long ago."
"Do we have the right to be judges?" Spider-Man asked. "To trade one person's future for another person's safety, what right do we have to make such a decision?"
Jason shook his head. He didn't want to think about these questions at the moment. During the days he was sick, he had rarely felt the warmth of family from Peter Parker's aunt and uncle.
The Batcave wasn't bad, but you couldn't expect a statue named Batman to provide anything more than the necessary living conditions and battle guidance. Alfred was also busy and getting old, and Jason never liked to bother him more than needed.
But the Parkers were different. They radiated a warmth that came from within, as if by not troubling them, you were not considering them family. This was the typical goodwill of the little citizenry.
Jason was very well cared for here, almost too well. Aunt May made delightful food at any time, claiming "you can try it" when she actually meant for you to sit on the couch and finish off the plate of snacks then and there, followed by a good sleep in your room, up until the fat quietly propagated in every part of you, making your heart comfortable and soft as well.
Was such a life really that bad? Jason couldn't give a definite answer. He only knew that the members of the Parker household were happier than he and Batman ever were.
So maybe it wouldn't be so bad to live like this. Unable, unwilling, and without a stance, why not just be an ordinary person among the masses, living a life amidst smaller joys and worries? What's so wrong with that?