Chương 3233: Chapter 2377: Gotham Music Festival (79)_1

Gordon turned off the TV and let out a sigh of relief, grateful that the mayor had acted quickly to present the accident as a planned performance. Otherwise, the explosion alone would have been enough to scare away the majority of tourists.

"The Federal Bureau of Investigation won't let this go so easily," Bruce sighed and said, "I need to go back and get ready."

After speaking, he walked toward the exit of the police department, while Shiller stayed inside, looking at Gordon and asking, "Do you know where that Batman who appeared came from?"

"The Wayne Hotel, all the visitors from other worlds stay there. Do you have business with him?"

"Bruce plans to send his children to the universe where that Batman is from, and I intend to send Barry along with them."

"Why not let him return to his parents?"

"He said he wanted to have fun in another universe, mainly to avoid Harley. Harley always makes him run errands to buy things, and it's driving him crazy."

"Isn't Harley going?"

"She's not. She's busy with her own magic career."

Gordon nodded, then said, "It's good as long as she's learning a craft that can support herself in the future."

It was clear Gordon's image of Harley was still that of a destitute Gotham orphan. Shiller said, "Clearly, she can do more than just support herself."

The moment the two walked out of the main entrance of Gotham Police Department, they saw a flash of fire in the skyline.

Gordon stared at the mushroom cloud on the skyline and after figuring out the direction, said, "Isn't that Black Island? What happened there?"

After a moment of shock, Gordon immediately picked up the walkie-talkie and said, "Gather up, gather up fast, get ready to respond, there's trouble on Black Island!"

Gordon headed toward the police car and without asking Shiller's opinion, opened the car door for him. Shiller gazed into the distance, spotting a familiar figure above the sea, and then he got into the car.

Black Island wasn't too far away. Just a few turns through the streets and over the bridge, a straight drive to the end would get them to the island, which was already in total chaos.

In the central district of the island, the most bustling street of bars was caught in a melee. Gunshots and the sound of artillery mixed, along with many unidentified flashes and invisible quicksilver waves, sending bar doors and signs flying far away.

For safety's sake, Gordon didn't drive into the street but parked on another street. As he and Shiller walked there, a blaze whizzed between them.

Shiller instantly turned into a cloud of gray mist and whisked Gordon away. They reappeared on the rooftop of the nearest building.

Gordon rushed to the edge of the roof to look down and cursed, "Damn it, what's going on here? Just who is fighting who?"

"One side is magicians," Shiller said as he looked at the scorch marks on the ground. "What just attacked us was magic flame."

"Why would magicians attack this place?" Gordon was puzzled.

Shiller's gaze swept back and forth between the streets until he saw a small figure at the end of another street—Harley.

Shiller now understood what she meant by her big plan. Harley had used the assassins and mercenaries on Black Island as bait to lure the magicians to the island.

It was easy to imagine that the magicians, upon discovering the new rules set by demons, were eager to try them out. If someone deliberately guided them at this point, they would realize one thing: finding sinners was easy. Just come to Gotham.

In the mystic world, Gotham was quite infamous. It had always been an enigma to the Magic Side, with the main unresolved question being why Gotham was so rotten.

But now, the reasons for its rot didn't matter. As long as it was still rotten, its vile inhabitants could naturally become the favorite offerings of demons, and transactions could be made.

However, the magicians did use the internet. The information from the recent music festival made it clear that Gotham might slowly be improving. If they didn't go now, and Gotham really improved in a few days, where would they find so many sinners' souls?

So the magicians started rushing to Gotham non-stop. Their fastest speed was not like ordinary people's—they didn't need to rush for airplanes or wait for pick-ups. They could arrive with a single teleportation, meaning they could decide in the morning and arrive by evening.

But when they arrived, they were dumbfounded. There indeed was a hotel at the location they had booked, but it was completely different from the one displayed on the reservation page.

The hotel was located on a street behind the central business district's bar area of the small island. According to the hotel front desk staff, they never accepted walk-ins and only served members who were regular guests. Moreover, they didn't even have an official website.

The magicians were not ones to be trifled with. They felt they had encountered a fraudulent contract, where accommodations were obviously not provided, yet a fake webpage was created to swindle money from them.

Keep in mind that the reservation fee on the hotel's official website was not cheap; it was only slightly less than other hotels that were fully booked, but still exorbitant. The magicians here had each spent at least a few thousand US dollars.

And as more and more magicians arrived, they finally realized that it was a scam targeting them. But under the current circumstances, it was impractical for them to investigate who had set up the fake webpage. They could only cause trouble for the hotel.

The hotel was not a pushover either. To dare open a hotel on Black Island, one had to be either wealthy or involved in the underworld. Either way, they would not tolerate a bunch of oddly dressed people making a ruckus at the entrance of their establishment.

The security personnel immediately rushed out. They only intended to disperse the magicians, but as is commonly known, the magicians' brains were somewhat abnormal from years of practicing black magic.

The recent vampire invasion and Shiller's last supper had nearly wiped them out. Most of the magicians hadn't recovered yet, jumpy like startled birds, seeing threats in every shadow.

A security guard's push was a bit too forceful, and one magician snapped on the spot, hurling a fireball straight at the guard's face.

Gothamites didn't care where the projectile came from; they saw it as an attack. Everyone immediately yelled to get down and then drew their weapons to retaliate.

It was also because the magicians were there that most people, when faced with a firearms attack, although their first impulse was to dodge, would retaliate as strongly as possible after ensuring their safety.

The receptionist pulled a shotgun from under the counter and with a loud bang, turned a misfortunate soul who was too close to set up a shield into pieces. Blood and flesh splattered everywhere, and suddenly a major battle erupted.

The hotel's lobby wasn't spacious enough for them to fight, especially for the magicians to cast their magic, so they retreated outside and started fighting on the streets. But this was too close to the bar street. Although the bars were not crowded in the morning, none of the permanent residents of the island were easy targets. Seeing fireballs, shells, and bullets flying, most had no choice but to pull out their weapons and fight back.

Then, Shiller and Gordon saw the scene that unfolded before them: a group of people engaged in a fierce street battle on Black Island, fighting so vigorously that it seemed as if the sky and earth were turning upside down.

And the instigator of all this, Harley, was hiding a couple of streets away, preparing to rush in for a finishing blow to take advantage of the chaos. She was peering towards the fray when someone abruptly grabbed her by the collar and yanked her back.

Turning her head, she saw Shiller. She sighed and said, "I thought Batman was coming after me. Glad it's you."

Seeing Shiller signaling her with his eyes, Harley understood and then said, "Alright, Professor, indeed it was me, but you have to understand, I did it for the good of Gotham too."

Before Shiller could say anything, Gordon narrowed his eyes, and Harley cleared her throat and said, "Hear me out, look, Gotham is getting better, right?"

"The clear difference between now and the past is that we have the capability to establish an order under our control, which is good, but it doesn't mean that the chaos of the past had no value."

"At the very least, our notorious reputation for chaos and entrenched evil has lured this group of magicians here, not to mention mercenaries and assassins. In a sense, tourists also come for that reputation."

"While the reputation is still in its expiry period, we can fully exploit the order we once built and make a killing off these people who came admiring our notoriety."

"Everyone thinks, 'I'll only come here once in my life, so it's fine if it's expensive,' or 'Even though the plane tickets and hotel are expensive, I still gain something from coming here.' Magicians come for the souls of criminals, assassins and mercenaries for the intelligence. This gives them a sense of compensation, making them more willing to spend money."

"If you ask Wayne how much money he made off this island, you'll understand that my reasoning is sound. This business model will add another layer of good news to our year-end financials."

"And what you need to do, Chief Gordon, is to spend more of your precious time caring for the lower-class people in those slums. As for what happens to these scumbags, it's best if you just turn a blind eye."

"We need to find a way to bring her to our cosmos," Shiller thought to himself. "I think she's the perfect heir to Arkham Sanatorium."

"But you previously said that the perfect heir was Peter," Gray mist said.

"Peter is still too conscientious."

"Fickle, aren't you?"

Seeing the expression on Gordon's face, Shiller knew that he was obviously tempted. The chief was the last bastion of conscience in Gotham, but the key wasn't the conscience; it was the 'last'. If the matter hadn't reached a critical juncture, Gordon tended to be relatively flexible and adaptable.

After all, he thought, if mercenaries and magicians were fighting and it didn't harm ordinary people, what did it have to do with him? Even if he arranged for the police to intervene now, both sides would just resent him for meddling.

Gordon cleared his throat and asked, "What did you just call me?"

"Uh... Chief Gordon."

"I'm not here as the chief right now; I'm here in a personal capacity... mainly because," Gordon turned to Shiller, "the noise from their fight was too loud, disturbing our esteemed Professor."

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