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Chương 157: 106

Before he could even finish speaking, with a "whoosh", Bruce took two steps back, just ahead of him, a car exploded. The driver rolled out and yelled at the guy on the elevated platform in the center of the intersection holding a rocket launcher, "Are you blind? I was going straight!! He was the one changing lanes! He stole my spot, why did you blow up my car?!!"

Before he could finish speaking, the aftereffects of that explosion seemed to hit the car that was changing lanes too. The hood of that car also exploded, and then it was immediately engulfed in flames.

The driver of the car that had changed lanes also tumbled out of the car. It looked like the two were ready to fight each other, but noticing the man on the platform reloading a rocket, they cussed and left the scene swiftly. Soon after, they each encountered a man claiming to be from a tow truck company. The remains of their vehicles quickly disappeared from the battleground.

"Listen up!! You sons of bitches on the other side! Are you deaf? It's our turn when the green light comes up next time!! Did you hear me?!!! It's our turn!!"

"Haven't you watched TV shows?!! What is this in my hand?!! Gotham driving manual! Do you see that?!! You guys have gone through two rounds already! It's our turn next!!!"

Across the roundabout, a big burly man with tattoos came down from a row of trucks, carrying a rifle in his hand. He flipped off the yelling guy and said, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!!! It's the east side's turn to go next, not yours! Wait your damn turn!!"

Bruce listened to their cursing and tried to comprehend, only to find that his genius brain could locate no evidence of any traffic rules these two were utterly confident about.

He turned to a bodyguard behind him and asked, "Gotham driving manual? Does that even exist? Get me a copy."

The bodyguard replied, "There is such a thing, it was just printed yesterday. It's a handwritten copy version. It seems like our mayor was a bit drunk when he was writing it…"

Despite this, he went and found a vehicle and brought back a copy. Bruce opened it up and found out that the bodyguard hadn't lied. So much vodka was clearly involved in creating such an outrageous driving manual.

Roy's extremely sloppy handwriting was all over it. The mayor came from humble beginnings and never went to college. Many words were misspelled, not to mention the sentences falling head over heels in poor grammar. He simply crossed out any errors he made. Some lines were far apart and others were squashed together.

Bruce shut down his brain, trying really hard to understand this manual from the perspective of these imbeciles. Despite its messy handwritings, chaotic content, and prevalent use of swear words, Bruce found it very insightful.

The central idea of the entire driving manual boiled down to one sentence: there were no traffic rules in this damn place, none of the drivers were licensed, if you wanted to drive here all you needed to do was hold onto the steering wheel, floor the gas pedal and pray to God.

A moment later, Bruce's phone rang. He answered, "Hello? Ah, Professor… Yes, the internship is going pretty well. I'm currently at the intersection on the east end of the central roundabout. The traffic here is tolerable, it's worse on the west side, too many sports cars…"

"Yes, I agree that this approach to an internship is very effective. From what I've heard, they claim having to memorize dozens of terms for mental disorders, which is nothing short of miraculous, I believe this could boost the final exam score by at least 5 points..."

"Evans? No... he's not directing traffic. He has more important tasks at hand."

As Bruce spoke, he looked up to see a man dressed in a black suit who looked like a boss of the Twelve Families. The man was bowing and nodding to Evans. In no time, he moved his car that had been blocking the road, quickly easing the previously jammed-up traffic.

Despite what Bruce said, the so-called Gotham Traffic Civilization Day was basically as chaotic as a messy ball of dough.

Roy built a small watchtower in the middle of each main traffic hub. The traffic controllers were usually equipped with machine guns and rocket launchers, ready to strike whenever something is off.

Under such threats, most vehicles were willing to comply with traffic rules. However, Gotham didn't have a unified set of traffic rules, and the locals had never learned to yield, so Roy appointed someone who had driven in other cities to give directions from the watchtower.

But in America, almost every state has its own traffic rules and each driving manual varies, which has resulted in different traffic rules for each intersection.

Although this situation is much better than when it was completely jammed, it still doesn't meet the logistical needs.

In the teacher's office at Gotham University, the math professor Anna sighed with frustration, "The calculation errors in the transportation capacity are way too large. Do you have any clue how to tackle this, Victor..."


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