Chapter 48: My wardrobe moved, I'm out of here!

"Don't listen to his nonsense, the old man is just making up stories," a middle-aged man wearing glasses sat up from a stretcher. "I just happened to be walking over to visit my girlfriend when a truck appeared over there, and it wasn't going slow either."

"Just then, a kid ran out into the middle of the road, and the truck driver slammed on the brakes as soon as he saw him. With that sudden brake, the truck went out of control, tipped over to the side, and crashed right next to a wall of the chemical plant."

"After the truck overturned, a bunch of things in cylindrical containers rolled out of the truck bed and piled up against the chemical plant wall."

"There just happened to be someone smoking on the roof of the chemical plant. He flicked his cigarette butt directly over the edge, and it landed right on that pile of cylindrical containers, which immediately caused an explosion."

"What on earth is all this..." Roland was dumbfounded. Was this a storytelling convention? Every story he heard sounded more absurd than the last.

"Bulls**t!"

"You're the one talking bulls**t!"

"What kind of story are you making up? With an imagination that good, why don't you go write a book?"

"My foot! I bet you've got senile dementia and can't remember what you saw at all."

The two men started arguing more and more heatedly, until the rushing medical staff hurriedly pulled them apart.

"What is actually going on here?" Roland felt that neither man's attitude seemed like they were lying, yet the contents of what they said both sounded completely untrue.

"Father Roland, hello." A slovenly and laid-back fat police officer walked over and extended his hand toward Roland.

"Um, you are..." Roland extended his right hand to shake his, while keeping his left hand holding the young girl's hand.

"I'm Harvey Bullock, Gordon's partner."

"So it's you." Roland looked at Harvey Bullock. He had heard of this man—a good cop who looked unserious on the outside but was upright at heart, with exceptional case-solving abilities.

"I'm here to investigate this arson case," Harvey Bullock said. "Do you mind stepping aside to talk for a moment?"

"Sure." Roland stood up, and the two walked over to a nearby alley to converse.

"How do you know this is an arson case?" Roland asked curiously. "I just heard two different versions of how the fire started, but neither of them has anything to do with arson."

"Everything you just heard is true." Harvey Bullock handed Roland a cigarette, then pulled out one for himself, lit it, and took a drag. "I investigated the scene, and it basically matches what they said. Several other eyewitnesses gave the exact same account."

"Weren't those two accounts completely different?"

"Well, it's basically safe to conclude that these two things happened simultaneously," Harvey Bullock took a deep puff of his cigarette. "It sounds ridiculous, but that seems to be the fact."

"Isn't that a bit too coincidental..."

"It's not a coincidence, it was engineered by someone." Harvey Bullock shook his head. "The reason I'm calling this an arson case is because ten minutes before it happened, someone called the Gotham City Fire Department to report a fire, and that person gave their name as Joe Krikor."

"Ah?" Roland thought for a moment. "JOKER? It's him again?"

"That's right, but we currently haven't found any evidence that he set all this up," Harvey Bullock lit another cigarette, looking utterly frustrated as he spoke.

"I don't think you need to worry about evidence. What good would evidence do anyway? Can you sentence the Joker to death? Wouldn't you still just end up sending him to Arkham Asylum?" Roland suggested. "You might as well just go arrest him directly. Given all the crazy stunts he's pulled, even without this one, he belongs in Arkham Asylum anyway."

"......That makes sense." Harvey Bullock nodded, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "That's fantastic then! Other people can go catch the Joker. Since I can't find anything here, it doesn't matter; I can just take a break... By the way, do you want to see my special trick?"

With that, he sat down right in front of Roland, pressed his tongue against the cigarette filter, used his lower lip as a fulcrum to press the filter downward, and used the leverage principle to flip the burning cigarette over, sending the entire lit cigarette straight into his mouth.

"Reverse smoking? Impressive." Roland's eyes lit up. "But that's not enough. Watch this."

Saying this, Roland directly lit five cigarettes, hid all five burning cigarettes inside his mouth, and then proceeded to finish a bottle of fruit juice without letting the cigarettes go out.

"......How did you even do that?" Harvey Bullock's pupils dilated. This was nothing short of miraculous.

"Bleeding gums," Roland shrugged. His gums had been a bit inflamed and prone to bleeding the past couple of days.

Since Nathaniel Hawthorne's ability, The Scarlet Letter, allowed him to transform his own blood into sacred letters and manipulate them, Roland had simply used the scarlet letters inside his mouth to control the cigarette tips.

"You have to teach me this!" Harvey Bullock pleaded, just as his cell phone rang.

"Gordon? What is it?"

"Someone reported to me that you were slacking off on your investigation again."

"Who's snitching on me? I swear on Harvey's name that I am definitely not slacking off."

"Which Harvey are you talking about?"

"Ahem..."

"Alright, I won't waste words with you. Go investigate the case."

"It's not that I'm unwilling to investigate, but the Joker left practically no flaws in what he did. Besides, even if I found evidence of him committing the crime, it's useless..." Harvey Bullock used the exact logic Roland had just given him to brush off Gordon. "And besides, if it's treated as an accidental fire, the insurance payout will be much higher."

"......Do as you see fit." Gordon sighed.

"Leave it to me." Harvey Bullock hung up the phone. "Well, let's close the case as an accident. It's just that Wayne Enterprises' insurance is going to take a bit of a hit."

"I hadn't even thought of that angle," Roland remarked.

"I owe that entirely to your inspiration, otherwise I wouldn't have thought of it either."

At that moment, a soft gunshot echoed through the air. Both men tensed up instantly. Harvey Bullock drew his service weapon, while Roland expanded his domain, his golden pupils flashing into view.

"It's a gunman, on the second floor of the chemical plant. They've already engaged your men," Roland said with his eyes closed.

"Thanks." Harvey Bullock sprinted toward the chemical plant. Roland was even faster; he scrambled up a tree and smashed through a third-floor window straight into the chemical plant.

Inside the chemical plant, a dozen gunmen were engaged in a fierce firefight with the police. The gunfire erupted into a continuous roar, completely masking the sound of Roland crashing through the glass.

Roland crept forward stealthily, hiding behind a row of lockers, then unscrewed the bottom of a locker and slowly moved forward while concealing himself behind a heavy, person-tall iron cabinet.

"Sub-captain, why does it feel like the locker behind those guys is moving?" A policeman noticed something amiss, but under the suppressing fire of the opposing gunmen, he couldn't check closely.

"What are you losing your mind for? How could a locker move?"

Roland had already slipped directly behind two gunmen, executing his movements so perfectly that not a single sound was emitted.

Yet the shadow of the cabinet swayed slightly, and one of the gunmen looked back. "Hey, was there a locker here just now?"

"Doesn't look like it... Did I remember wrong?"

Before the two men could react, Roland shoved the locker door open and yanked them both inside.