"Following rules and conventions implies vulnerability and the risk of being oppressed. You can be a ruthless slave, but you can't be an independent weakling."
"Everyone in Gotham knows that they can be vicious, brutal, and indifferent, but they must never show weakness. Once they start to cry, that's like hosting their own funeral prematurely--once a person cries, they lose the strength to resist."
When Falcone said this, his cigar had burned halfway down. The smoke was clinging closely to his fingers, curling around his fingertips like the mist rising from the vines in the early morning, threading through the towering trees.
"Why don't you cry?" In a hospital room, Batman looked at the eight children surrounding him. He asked, "Why do you only scream, but not shed any tears? Can't you cry?"
Everyone stood around, quietly watching him. Batman knelt down to look them in the eye. At that moment, the strongest-looking kid among the eight stepped forward. He was a white boy and looked the cutest among them all. He said:
"Hello, what kind of work do you want us to do?" He bowed his head, twisting the corner of his clothes with his hand. "We're too young to deliver newspapers. If you want us to beg, Bigfoot, Diamond and I can go to the main streets. The rest can only work on the side streets."
"I don't want you to work." Batman repeated, "I hope you can lie in bed now, instead of yelling and biting at the doctors who are trying to give you injections."
But the boy ignored him and went on, "You're our new boss, we'll call you Dad. The older kids and I need only half a loaf of bread a day, the others just a quarter. We'll give all the money to you. We're good kids."
Batman stood still, pressing his finger to his forehead, feeling his breath grow ragged.
He approached the boy, put his hand on the boy's shoulder, looked him in the eye and said, "I'm not like those 'dads' and 'moms'. I am here to save you. I will not let you beg on the streets and then give the money to me."
But what Batman saw in the boy's eyes was a look of fear. It seemed like he was trying hard to suppress his terror and said, "Dad ... I mean, sir, we are still too young, we ... we can't do that kind of work ... or maybe, wait until we grow older ..."
Batman naturally understood what the boy was implying. Just as he was about to say something, he saw all the other children shaking uncontrollably. The weakest little girl finally couldn't bear it anymore. She began to wail, "I saw ... I saw what they did to Selina ... she died, and I will die too ..."
All of the children began to scream incessantly. They let out meaningless shrieks but shed no tears. Everyone fled to the corner, huddling together, unable to communicate.
"Stop crying!"
Batman finally lowered his voice. He no longer used the tone he often used with Aisha or Dick when speaking to these children.
As he raised his voice, he realized he was using the tone he used to admonish criminals to warn them.
But amazingly, after his reprimand, all the children stopped crying. They squatted in place, staring at Batman. Batman took a deep breath, feeling a deep sense of helplessness.
All the children in this room were older than Aisha, but their sizes weren't much different. Some of the younger ones even looked smaller than Aisha.
Faced with these children, Batman at this moment couldn't force them to do anything. He could only comfort them over and over, trying to establish a sense of safety and order for them.
Until it was late at night, the continuous night rain got heavier. When the raindrops hit the sea, they caused hazy halos. The lights of Gotham Dock were always on. With the better development of logistics, there were more people here.
Not far from the dock, a mansion stood out among the surrounding buildings. Now, however, the sign on the door had been changed to "Iceberg Restaurant".
The building, as a restaurant, was a bit too big. It had seven floors, and an extremely luxurious entrance, along with dozens of parking spaces. Though now deserted since the restaurant was not yet open, there were already quite a few people curiously peeking inside.
In the center of the restaurant, Cobblepot stood in front of the reception desk, speaking to the nine children before him:
"Listen, as of now, I'm your boss, your new employer, and your new task isn't begging out there. That doesn't make much money."
"See this? This whole building belongs to me. Now, lift your heads, take a good look around, see the materials used for every little thing here with your shallow knowledge and limited perspective, then you'll know who I am."
All the children did as told, and raised their heads. At first, they weren't paying much attention, but soon, they were attracted by the intricate and decorated ceiling.
The main hall on the first floor was originally a dance floor, so the ceiling was exquisitely carved. All of these were kept intact, and these children have never seen such beautiful things in their lives.
In Gotham, there are few child beggars. Most of these kids were abandoned infants picked up by the poor women. They've lived in the narrow, dark alleys since childhood. Even when working on the streets, they'd just find a shabby corner to sit, never daring to look up at people.
Soon, they all had their mouths wide open, constantly moving their heads, looking at everything they had never seen before. Even though they had not seen these things before, they understood their elegance. It was human instinct.
"Alright, I believe you can see that I have much more money than your previous boss, and I killed your old employer and took you from them, all in order to make myself even richer."
The words spoken by Cobblepot were very straightforward, and they used no words that would be too challenging for the desperate illiterates, thus, these kids easily understood what he was saying.
Then, the strongest child amongst them stood up and asked, "What do you want us to do?"
"You're the leader of this group, aren't you? Come, over here." Cobblepot pointed to the floor in front of him, the child slowly walked over. Cobblepot pointed around the restaurant and said, "Now, my restaurant is not yet open. What you need to do in the meantime is clean this place up."
"Listen, I'm not like those poor beggars, starving you will only make you too weak to work. So, you can eat your fill here. You'll sleep in the basement, four people per room, two to a bed. You will each have two sets of identical janitor uniforms to wear."
"But, working here is not as simple as finding a place to sit. You must abide by the rules, or you'll have me to answer to."
"There are two meals at 7 am and 2 pm, with bread and some leftover food. A stove is available for you to heat your meals. If you are thirsty, find a tap. When the customers leave, return to your rooms and do not run around."
"You should've seen where this place is on your way here. That's the street where you used to work. If you run out there at night, no one will be looking for your bodies in the garbage truck the next morning."
"Furthermore, don't let me catch any of you stealing. You should understand the consequences."
"We won't steal, we will give you everything, we are all good children." The leading boy said.
"Good, now go back to your rooms and stay there unless needed." Cobblepot signaled to his burly subordinate standing nearby to take the children to the basement.
What was unseen was that the leading boy, in the instant he turned around, tried hard to twitch the corner of his mouth, revealing a smile of surprise.