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58.68% Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics / Chapter 2412: Chapter 1670: Death without Distraction (33)_1

章節 2412: Chapter 1670: Death without Distraction (33)_1

The so-called exploitation is actually a phenomenon that arises when, in the absence of a proper social contract, wealth ceaselessly flows upwards.

The most severe consequence of the breakdown of the Gotham Gang rules was the unrestrained upward accumulation of benefits, all the way up to the hands of the few at the top of the pyramid.

This process can even be said to be natural, rather than being caused by someone forcing many people to die. It's a social natural phenomenon that inevitably occurs under such circumstances.

Although the beneficiaries should be condemned, killing one batch of beneficiaries will result in another. Therefore, merely mowing down the top echelons of Gotham is of no use. It is necessary to re-establish appropriate and stable social rules.

To achieve this, you can't simply make changes at the bottom. All actions at the grassroots level must aim to bring down the beneficiaries at the top. The simplest way to do this is to reach out and touch their money bags.

The area of three streets occupied by the Naiwei Family is an extremely important economic center in Midtown. The majority of the shops here are related to the livelihood of the Gotham people and can provide a very stable source of economic income for those at the top.

Once the Robins took over this area, holding guns and demanding protection money from door to door, those who refused could not reopen. Wouldn't the people at the top who are fed by this place be worried?

The biggest advantage of livelihood-related industries is that they can provide a continuous flow of funds. The importance of liquid funds to the group industry is self-evident. A break in the flow of funds is akin to severing the main artery of blood transfusion. It's not just about losing a bit of money. A moment of insufficient blood supply can cause a commercial empire to collapse.

After the Gotham elites and beneficiaries realized the risk of having their blood vessels cut off, they took active measures, including but not limited to pressuring the police to deploy police cars to guard the shops; actively contacting families in the security industry, exchanging interests with them, hiring security guards to clean the streets; making all the media they control speak up, exerting pressure in the public opinion field; hiring assassins to scout Naiwei Family headquarters and attempt assassinations, and so on.

So, what effect did these measures have? The answer is none.

If these measures were used against their business rivals, they would still be useful. At the extreme, they would only kill the helm of the rival's business, take over the benefits during their transition of power, or simply cause a group's reputation to plummet, leading to a break in the capital chain and self-destruction.

But the traditional mob rose to power through extreme violence. When the Robins gathered heavy weapons around their family's base, most of the assassins who usually held small guns at banquet parties had no ability to storm the position and turned around and left when they saw the large crowds.

Public opinion attacks were even more useless. Even though we're a gang, can't we do evil? The best way to deal with moral coercion is to say, "I, as a barbarian, can too."

You can't kill them, and you can't scold them. What else can this group of families do? Grab real guns and have a real fight.

Fortunately, the current Gotham is not too far from the gangster era. The inheritance of gangs has not been completely interrupted. Each family's warehouse has some relics from the previous dynasty. Bring them all out and you can make do, and first think of ways to get your industrial property back.

Thus, the streets within the Naiwei Family's range seemed to regress twenty years overnight. Today, you're robbing my nightclub with guns. Tomorrow, I'll blow up your bar with cannons. Today, you're collecting protection money from the fresh food market on my street. Tomorrow, I'll take the money back from your jewelry shop.

This frequent firefight will create a problem. The old men at the top can't possibly take up arms and go onto the battlefield themselves. They will definitely hire people to do it. But a gang and mob fight is equivalent to continuous small-scale battles. Without a professional background or practical experience, it's difficult to command this kind of small-scale war.

First of all, you need to know the strategic position of each street, reasonably allocate resources to build defensive works, timely hoard troops and grain, arrange guards and attackers well, and have an appropriate pace and rhythm. Only then do you stand a chance of expanding outward while protecting your industry and gaining an advantage.

Most civilized people who have not received training do not have this skill, and these elites, who have long enjoyed their privileges, are even more hopeless. Not to mention commanding battles, they don't even know how many people they hired are fighting where and how.

This chaotic situation gave the Robins an opportunity. Initially, hired soldiers poured into the streets to occupy shops and then attacked the family's base. But as they fought, the people hired by a group stormed into the shops occupied by another group and started looting like crazy.

It's unclear whether the commanding staff was incompetent, the hired individuals lacked professionalism, or if there was a genuine conflict between the two groups. But anyway, it's definitely not the Robins intentionally leading the chaos. The subsequent firefights were all about random looting. Whoever took the shop owned it.

However, this led to another problem, which is that beneficiaries are more interested in profits than anyone else. I can take over the golden location shop you've painstakingly run, which has an annual income of millions of dollars, with just a few hundred-dollar gun and a couple of bullet chains. Why wouldn't I rob it? After all, everyone is robbing now.

Capitalists are like rabid dogs confined in a cage, and the thickest bar on the cage that confines them is called the "cloak of civilisation". Once this cloak is removed, they will use their sharp teeth to puncture the throats of anyone who impedes their profit without hesitation.

When profits reach 1000%, capitalists will inevitably take risks, and when profits are 1000%, with almost no cost, they will go mad.

Thus, the downtown area of Gotham began an unprecedented chaos. Since the shops in the Naiwei Family's base can be robbed, why can't the shops across the street be robbed?

If you rob the Naiwei Family's shops, you might be greeted with heavy guns and rocket launchers. If you rob the shops next door, even if the shop assistant has a gun, the resistance encountered wouldn't be more intense than at the Naiwei Family base. Isn't that safer and easier?

These vicious dogs who have had a taste of sweetness have chosen a more direct way to snatch benefits — robbery — through the small tear in their civilised coat, created by Robins.

Grabbing territory is a behavior with very strong positive feedback. After taking a piece of land, you will immediately feel your territory has increased, rather than having to wait for the production and sale of funds after investing money.

The strong positive feedback and dopamine stimulation are even more addictive than any drug. That's why many generals throughout the history of modern warfare are accused of being war crazy; winning wars is genuinely addictive.

The situation developed way faster than Batman in front of the screen could imagine. He'd just spent two days in the Batcave, and Midtown Gotham had become a mess. The problem was that the main participants in this war were giddy with excitement.

One night, unable to bear it anymore, Batman found himself at the top of the tallest building in Midtown.

Originally, he planned to put an end to the chaos, but now, under the cover of night, Batman pondered a question—

Where the hell did all these heavy weapons, popping off like firecrackers below, come from?

Suddenly, Batman recalled a figure he hadn't seen on his surveillance screen for a long time. After a moment's thought, he leapt off the rooftop.

In a mansion on Swan Street, not too far from Nottingham Street, two figures, one big and one small, stood in front of a table.

Harley Quinn, arms crossed, slammed her hand onto the table and said to the man across from her, "I advise you to appreciate what's in front of you. This is our last batch of machine guns. If you don't want them, I'll send them right over to your arch enemy, Kenson. Don't cry under the covers when the two streets you just fought for change hands."

"Don't try to pull a fast one on us," said Harley, sitting on the table's edge, chewing bubble gum. "We only accept cash, hand over the cash, and the goods are yours. The guy who tried to rob us the day before yesterday, his ashes should be floating through the ocean by now."

A few minutes later, a group of grim-faced men with bodyguards left the room. The two figures, one big and one small, high-fived and cheered. Harley, arms still crossed, looked up triumphantly and said,

"I told you, this is my kind of job! In our universe, this is how I deal with demons. If even demons can't escape, what can they do?"

Harley Quinn immediately broke into a radiant smile. She rushed up to Harley, cupping her face with both hands, then planted two big kisses on her cheek, cooing in a tone even more saccharine than Harley's.

"Oh, my God, my little darling, my sweet obedient daughter. What if you were my daughter. Come here, let me kiss you again!"

Harley swiftly pushed her away, trying to keep her dark lipstick off her face.

As they were playing and laughing, Harley Quinn caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the fluttering shadow of the curtain.

"Batman?! What are you trying to do? Are you here to steal my newly adopted daughter?"

"She's not your daughter." Batman emerged from behind the curtain, his eyes falling on the box of bills in front of Harley Quinn.

"Are you trying to steal my money now?! I'm warning you, Batman; I earned this all by myself. If you dare try to steal it, I'll put your picture in the newspaper, accusing you of robbing my legal income!"

Harley suddenly tugged at Harley Quinn's arm, whispering in her ear, "Wait a minute; this doesn't seem legal…"

"What are you talking nonsense about, my dear daughter?! This is legal in Gotham! What's more legal in Gotham, than arms dealing?"

Ignoring Harley Quinn's jabber, Batman's grave gaze met Harley's. Harley pursed her lips, shrugged, and said, "You control freak, if you must know, yes, we're selling arms."

Batman gestured towards the gun behind her. Harley turned her head for a look and said, "You want to ask where we got our goods? First, it was Jason who made contact with a seller. But I saw potential in this business, so I 'slightly' expanded the channels."

Batman narrowed his eyes, repeating, "Slightly?"

"Alright, can't fool you." Harley hopped off the table, slapped her chest and said,

"This is the exclusive sales agent for Madashi Company on the East Coast of the United States."

She then pointed at Harley Quinn, "And she is the Atlantic regional distributor for the Halkov Morozov Machinery Design Bureau."

She pointed at herself and Harley Quinn again, "Combined, we hold the record for the highest sales of heavy weapons from Ukraine in the Americas. And would you believe it, it took us less than half a month to achieve this record!"

Harley Quinn nodded emphatically. Looking at the identical smug faces of Harleys, one big and one small, Batman couldn't help but be taken aback.


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