Capítulo 2949: Chapter 2115: Superman's Great Adventure in Gotham (Part 6)_1

In the slums of Gotham, there are welfare centers, but they only cover three neighborhoods of the slums. Two of these welfare centers are located on safer streets.

Of course, when I say 'safer', it's just a relative term. In truth, these are all fringe areas within a spectrum of bad to worse.

One of the orphanages is founded by Wayne Enterprises, and another one is a government welfare project. Clark considered it for a while and decided to visit the government welfare facility first.

From his experience in Metropolis, usually, the conditions of private welfare facilities are better. You can say that these tycoons are doing it for tax evasion or to win people's hearts, but at least they make a facade of appearances. Businessmen always want their money's worth; regardless of whether their management system is humanely oriented, at least the children are well-fed.

However, some public welfare centers receive less attention, the screening process for community volunteers is not rigorous, and there often are cases of people with ulterior motives.

Furthermore, Clark doubted whether there were any well-intentioned volunteers in Gotham, or if these crazy people had the capacity to harbor goodwill. The current situation didn't seem promising.

It's an old building isolated on the edge of the neighborhood, which seems to have been built in the '60s or '70s. As Clark approached, he saw some children playing in the backyard.

He rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. So, Clark simply pushed open the iron gate and entered, thinking it might be a good idea to interact with the children. Without any prior notice, it would be easier to get candid information from them.

Walking halfway, Clark overheard a conversation among the children in the backyard.

"Have we sold all of those goods yet? It's really a pain, I still have three bags. It seems I'll have to go out later and shout a bit more."

"It's your own fault for sleeping in. The director said if we don't choose a good hour to sell, it would be hard. Those kids from the orphanage across steal our business because they are better nourished."

"Enough said. Let me clear up these things. I'll accompany you to sell it off quickly. We have to stock new goods tomorrow."

Seems like they are selling something, he thought. Many welfare centers often organize such activities; it's basically charity sales. The community residents would buy their handmade crafts at high prices, considering it a charitable act.

Clark advanced a bit wanting to see what they were selling. But as soon as he turned the corner, he saw bright orange.

It's orange juice in the box.

Looking closely, he noticed that the packaging of the orange juice was exactly the same as the ones he'd bought earlier; it was clearly produced in a factory.

Is someone teaching the orphans in Gotham to smuggle drugs?

This is a serious issue. Clark immediately activated his camera, not to suggest he hadn't been using it before, but this time he had to lower the angle to avoid capturing the children's faces.

Clark knew that even in Metropolis there were some naturally bad people who choose to tread on crime even given other options. But these were a minority.

Even if the number of naturally bad elements in Gotham was ten or a hundred times that of Metropolis, he wouldn't expect all the children to be involved in this. The only possibility is that someone was forcing and inducing them into this.

Clark adjusted the camera angle, hoping to capture the state of the orange juice. But as soon as he took a step forward, his feet sank slightly into the soft mud, making a small sound.

The children in the courtyard immediately turned their heads to look in his direction like a flock of disturbed sparrows.

The two older kids crouched on the ground, like little tigers ready to pounce, while the younger ones were blocked behind, their cold eyes fixed on Clark. They seemed so professional, like a tactical squad.

"Hey, no misunderstanding," Clark stepped out with his hands forward and said, "I mean no harm, kids, don't be scared."

The leading boy gave Clark a once-over, waved back at the others, and said, "It's an outsider."

"I am a reporter from The Daily Planet in Metropolis. I want to investigate the state of the lower social strata in Gotham. Would you like to be interviewed by me?"

"A reporter?" The boy seemed somewhat surprised. "Why have so many of you come to Gotham recently? Is it because Bruce Wayne has become the President? So are you planning to say something good or bad about him?"

Clark widened his eyes slightly and asked, "Did previous journalists teach you what to say?"

The boy turned to the girl beside him. She cleared her throat and said, "They came, then left, that simple."

Clark understood. Those reporters hadn't interviewed them at all. They simply took a picture at the orphanage gate and concocted the news back at the office.

Suddenly, Clark noticed a gleam in the girl's eyes. Just as she was about to stand up, the boy stopped her, shook his head, and the girl lowered her arms disappointedly.

"You better leave soon. You won't get any news you want from here. We won't tell you anything either."

"Alright, I'll leave shortly. But I'm curious, who gives you these juices?"

"It's none of your business."

After saying that, the boy stood up and led the younger kids back into the house. The girl ordered some others to move the box inside as well.

Clark followed them, wanting to enter the building with them, but the girl stood in the doorway, looking up at him with wide eyes, saying, "I know you must be special, that's why Charlie didn't let me touch you. Him letting you go is for your own good, or else you'd be trapped here."

With a bang, the door was closed, and Clark felt he couldn't force these children like this, so he chose to take another route and flew directly to the second floor to enter through the window.

As he opened the balcony door, he found himself face to face with a pair of bulging eyes.

Clark was startled, not by the shadow suddenly appearing behind the door. He knew there were human figures inside, but he did not expect this thing to be hanging from the beam, not standing.

In the upstairs room, three people were hanging. When Clark walked in and closed the balcony door, he found that two of them were already corpses, with one of them even starting to decompose, and the other was still breathing.

Clark quickly took the living one down, filled a basin with water from the bathroom sink, and splashed it on his face, then shook his shoulder vigorously.

After the man in the plaid shirt woke up, he was somewhat bewildered. After seeing Clark, he stared for a moment and said, "Clark, Clark Kent."

"Do you know me?"

"Aren't you a reporter from The Daily Planet? I'm Billy from the Metropolis Evening News. We've met at a Security and Press Conference before, don't you remember me?"

Clark didn't bother to engage his super brain, so he said, "I vaguely remember, what are you doing here?"

"Those terrifying kids kidnapped me, stuffed me into a trash bin, and hung me in the room with these two horrifying corpses. They're letting me die here!"

Billy started to tremble.

"What did you do?"

"I... I just wanted to come here for an interview."

Clark squinted his eyes, showing a disapproving look, clearly his lie detector telling him that the man was lying.

"Okay, our editor told me to fabricate some unfavorable news about Wayne, but the previous baseless news didn't go well, so he asked me to get some ambiguous photos, with some suggestive language, hoping it might go viral."

Clark sighed. No matter how many times, he felt deeply disappointed with the industry he's in, but still asked, "How were you caught by those kids?"

"I walked in, they pretended to accept my interview, and then I received a blow from behind." Billy rubbed the back of his head and pulled a pained expression.

Bang!

Clark knocked out Billy again. As he was standing up, he noticed that the little girl from before was standing at the door, staring at him intently.

"You're really a nuisance, it's a shame we can't kill you." The little girl flung her hand and walked towards the stairwell, with Clark following behind her.

"Please believe I'm not like these unscrupulous reporters, I really want to help you guys. So could you tell me who got you to sell that orange juice laced with drugs?"

The little girl glanced back at him, and her gaze was still icy cold, but Clark spoke, "I know I'm late... but when Batman was still Batman, I believe I should have a certain respect for him, not breaking into his city, doing something rash."

"But please believe, it's not because Bruce Wayne has become the president, or because this city has received attention that I've come."

"I believe that, because you don't seem stupid."

The little girl went into her room on the second floor, and Clark followed her. Sitting on the edge of her bed, the little girl said, "But your timing is really bad, we're extremely busy and don't have time for an interview."

"Busy selling that orange juice."

The little girl nodded and said, "Don't treat me like one of those idiots in Metropolis, we know what we are selling, and what it's for. But, as I've said before, you people from Metropolis should mind your own business, you simply can't understand any of this."

"But there has to be a reason." Clark knelt down in front of the girl's bed, looked up at her and said, "If you explain, maybe I can understand."

The little girl sighed like a grown-up and said, "Don't you want to know who gave us the orange juice? I can give you a package. Maybe you can find the factory."

After saying this, the little girl took out a crumpled orange juice pack from the drawer, which still had some juice left in it, and handed it to Clark. Then she waved her hand at him and said, "Go ahead, great hero, stop bothering us."

Clark had no choice but to leave because he was worried that if he stayed any longer, these kids might be in danger.

Though Superman isn't a detective, his super vision allows him to see every detail of the city. If he is able to locate a transportation vehicle carrying these packages, he could roughly deduce the factory's location.

This line of thinking is quite useful for common search events. However, when Clark flew into the sky and began to search, he saw thousands of brawls in the district, hundreds of car crashes, hundreds of alligator fights, dozens of people with their heads stuck in trash bins, and two thieves stealing from a public urinal. But he saw no transportation truck.

Quickly realizing something was off, he turned his head to look at the orphanage he had just come from, only to find the children were moving box after box of orange juice through the sewer.

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