บท 1364: Chapter 926: Deep in the Misty Rain (Part 1)_1
With the evening's strong winds gradually subsiding, the perennially dark clouds over Gotham had surprisingly lifted a bit. The next day was a rare day of good weather in Gotham, although somewhat foggy.
Shearer got up early, donned his leather boots, picked up his gardening spade, and went to the garden downstairs.
Merkel, from the tool room next to him, took the pot used to cook milk, poured the milk into a kettle, picked up the kettle and tea bags, and headed to the oak tree in the garden. Shearer was there, sorting out the water hose he had pulled out the day before.
Merkel sprinkled tea leaves into a cup, then poured the steaming milk. White fog rose, and the scent of British milk tea wafted about.
Shearer took the small cup, which could only fit one finger through the handle. He shook his head, saying, "I really didn't know... that tea could be drunk in the morning. Are we out of coffee ingredients in the manor?"
After saying that, he took a sip of the British tea. It indeed tasted pretty good— not sweet, with a more dominant tea flavor, good enough for the milk-loathing Shearer to reluctantly accept. Merkel shook his head, replying, "No, sir, we're all prepared with coffee ingredients and the coffee machine. It's just this weather... It reminds me of my homeland."
"England is always so rainy. On the farm my family owned, after every strong wind, the weather would turn a little bright, and everyone would get up early."
"At this time, the farm workers would go to their neighbours' house to buy freshly squeezed milk. Honestly, it tastes so much better than what we're drinking now…"
Shearer took another sip of tea. Merkel also brewed a cup for himself. Having finished their tea under the oak tree, Shearer picked up his gardening spade again. "The gardener's condition does not look promising. It seems we have to do these chores ourselves. This morning let's tidy up the broken rain shed first, then rinse the garden with the water hose. We can dig out the dead plants tomorrow…"
Merkel went back to change his shoes. Shearer, hand resting on his gardening spade, looked at the mess in the garden and sighed. But it didn't take him long to pick up his spade and start digging out the rain shelter support stuck in the mud.
After a while, Merkel came back. Shearer glanced at the leather shoes he was wearing and asked, "What happened? Where are the rain boots you were wearing last night?"
Merkel shook his head and said to Shearer, "Sir, you have a call. I think it's from Mr. Wayne…"
Shearer frowned. Merkel took the spade from his hand. As Shearer reached the door, he stomped on the doormat, shaking off the mud. Passing through the foyer and arriving in the main hall, he picked up the phone receiver from the table next to him.
"Hello? What happened? You've only been gone a few hours, why… what? The building in the East District collapsed? Didn't you go help with the disaster relief?"
"Is that so? That's a good thing. The children's active participation in disaster relief work can help enhance their capabilities, isn't it?"
"Yes, I know, but even a small thing like delivering food can get a lot of people involved. Cobblepot did well this time… what did you say? Someone got injured?"
"How did the children get injured? Weren't they delivering things? ... A mental patient suddenly went wild? Who got injured? Just don't tell me … alright, I got it. I'll head over there now."
Shearer put down the phone, quickly heading for the stairs. Merkel, who had just entered, caught up with him, asking, "What happened? Where are you going?"
"Help me get a coat; I have to head to the renovation project, specifically building one in the demonstration area. One of my students got injured. He was attacked by a mysteriously violent mental patient. I need to see what happened."
"Oh, and call Dr. Brand, let him come over too. We might need his help with pathological analysis…"
Merkel nodded and immediately left to find a coat. Shearer went upstairs, replaced his work clothes with a suit and tie, and came down while receiving his overcoat from Merkel.
"Dr. Brand says he is at the hospital now. Mr. Wayne invited him for a consultation. The chauffeur is at the door, and the umbrella is left for you in the back seat…"
Shearer nodded, walked briskly out the door, and got into his car. Picking up the umbrella, he frowned and looked out the window.
It was a rare day of good weather in Gotham, but the sun did not shine brilliantly. It was only slightly brighter than usual. The sky was not blue; it was still foggy and gray. But the clouds were not low and did not create the usual oppressive darkness.
The difference was that there was a thin fog everywhere in the air, and the humidity was higher than before. With every breath, the air felt cool from nose to lungs.
On the streets, one puddle after another formed a continuous inky sheet. On the surface of most of the puddles floated last night's fallen golden leaves. Due to the temperature rise, thin white fog rose from some puddles, making them look like a bowl of steaming soup.
Occasionally, a bicycle bell rang on the opposite street. Newsboys stormed past the blocks that had not yet been renovated. Shearer spotted the newspapers in their hands and asked, "Do you have a newspaper, chauffeur? Is there any big news today?"
The chauffeur, a man of advanced age and a native of the city, adjusted his gloves a bit before answering, "The newspaper is in the drawer of the car door on your left. But, sir, you might want to leave it in there. The weather is quite damp; the ink might not be dry yet, it could dirty your hands."
Shearer paused halfway through his reach for the newspaper drawer. He heard the chauffeur continue, "If we're talking about today's news, of course, it would be the building collapse on the Street of the Broken Fish Basket…"
"Perhaps you, sir, have not been to such a street. The houses there are not like your manor-- they were not built in one go. The top floors were added as more people moved in."
"These houses are not very reliable. The powerful typhoon last night caused one of the buildings on the edge to collapse. Originally, it was the only building that collapsed, but the houses there are too dense and all unstable, so six houses collapsed in a row..."
"What's the situation with casualties?" Shearer asked, frowning.
"The buildings there aren't very high, not like downtown where buildings are often forty-story high. The six collapsed buildings, the tallest is only six stories. Plus, the construction materials were shoddy so luckily no one got killed, but a few were severely injured and were taken away by ambulances sent by Wayne Enterprises."
"I heard that the mob got involved in the disaster relief effort, and that the children from the transformation demonstration area also went?" Shearer asked.
"The mob must of course participate in the disaster relief." The driver stretched out his hand and honked, signaling the car in front to hurry up, and talked while turning the steering wheel: "In the past, when such an accident happened, it was always the mob that led the rescue. This time, with that wealthy Mr. Wayne also involved, the efficiency has indeed increased a lot."
"As for those children, they did pretty good work too, but I heard there were some conflicts. An injured person who was rescued went mad somehow and started attacking those who saved him."
"The mob members who had been working all day and were hungry were also very aggravated, and a conflict with the rescued party occurred. As for the children ..." the driver shook his head: "They shouldn't have gotten involved. Those little devils are better at escaping red-handed situations."
"During real-life mob gang fights, they always manage to escape quickly. This brawl only involved fists flying around. There's no reason they wouldn't have been able to avoid it."
Shearer nodded, but his frowning brow did not relax. If it was as serious as Bruce had said, and Jason was injured in this brawl, the situation must be much worse than what the driver reported.
First of all, Jason is the King of Children. Once a fight breaks out, his underlings will protect him because he is the leader, their brain. This is their instinct to maintain group interests, and Jason will not be easily attacked.
Besides, Jason is quite good in a fight. Even though he surely can't match the genius Batman or naturally athletic Dick, among regular children, he is quite a force. Jason shouldn't have been the first to fall and get beaten up.
Even if he can't win, Jason is not the kind of person who stubbornly refuses to run. Like the driver said, the children of Gotham have leading survival skills to stay alive.
After all, when the mob is shooting, they don't specifically notify them. As soon as they hear a gunshot, they disappear in a haze of smoke. This is their survival ability in Gotham.
Thinking this, Shearer got out of the car, made a phone call outside Building 1. After a while, Cobblepot came down. Just at a glance, Shearer noticed that his face was not very good. So he asked: "What happened? You look a bit too serious..."
Cobblepot shook his head and said nothing. He simply led Shearer on the elevator up to Jason's 15th floor residence.
Pushing the door open, Shearer saw a few children surrounding Jason on the bed. Cobblepot waved his hand and they reluctantly walked out. In the somewhat narrow room, Shearer walked to the bedside and looked at Jason, noticing his complexion was even worse.
Shearer looked around, and Cobblepot immediately caught his intention. He stepped out and came back after a while with a chair. Shearer sat at the bedside, reaching out and touched Jason's forehead.
"He's running a fever. Is there no fever-reducing medication?" Shearer asked.
"There is. And we gave him some two hours ago. It's already the highest dose he can take based on his weight." Cobblepot said, looking worried. He could tell Shearer valued Jason highly.
Not just Shearer. Cobblepot himself also valued Jason a lot, thinking he would be his key aide in leading the new order. But now, Jason's situation is not looking positive. Having grown up in the East District himself, Cobblepot understood that once even medication becomes ineffective, circumstances would have reached an extremely critical juncture.
Shearer frowned deeply and said: "I heard that he's injured. Where's the injury?"
Cobblepot walked up and took Jason's arm out from under the blanket. Shearer rolled up the sleeve to find three deep wounds on his forearm, which looked like they were scratched by nails.
Just then, Tire walked in and asked: "How is it? Is Jason getting any better?... Oh, Boss Cobblepot, you are also here, and oh my, Professor Shearer, you finally came..."
Tire showed a remorseful expression and said: "Please save Jason. It is all my fault. Jason was injured trying to protect me!"
Shearer had no intention of blaming him. Instead, he turned his head and said: "What exactly happened? Weren't you just supposed to deliver food? How did you end up in a fight?"
Tire stomped his foot regretfully and said, "We can't be blamed for this! It's all because of those madmen... Maybe it's not their fault either, blame the typhoon instead."
"Last night's typhoon was the biggest storm Gotham had seen in decades. The block street where I live, the 'Street of the Broken Fish Basket', had six buildings collapse, injuring many people. The mob went to help with disaster relief..."
"I know all this, tell me what happened after."
Perhaps it was Shearer's calm tone that soothed the somewhat anxious Tire. He took a deep breath, organized his thoughts, and started telling the tale:
"Last night, when Boss Cobblepot told us we were going to deliver food, Jason suggested that he should cook it. We all agreed to this proposal, so all the children hurriedly began preparations..."
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