novelhk Chapter 190, Section 87: Justice
Chapter 190, Section 87: Justice
Chapter 190, Section 87: Justice
Anatoly remained silent.
They were playing well when suddenly his opponent started singing in front of him. Even he, a lunatic, couldn't understand Qin Wei's bizarre thought process.
"Say something, or I'll look like an idiot."
F
"Why are you singing the Internationale in front of me?"
"Because I am a Su Jing." Qin Wei shrugged.
"Then why not sing the national anthem?"
"I only know this one sentence in Russian," Qin Wei said helplessly. This clone body didn't have the original Bruce Wayne multilingual pack downloaded.
Perhaps moved by Qin Wei's sincerity, Anatoli fell into deep thought.
Suddenly, he raised his head and looked directly into Qin Wei's eyes: "Who is Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov?"
"Comrade Lenin—is this a test question?"
"Next question: What is the opening paragraph of Karl Marx's book, *Communist Manifesto*?"
"A ghost—"
"Alright, you don't need to say anything more."
Anatoly gained a basic understanding of Qin Wei. Although he only asked some basic questions, it would have been difficult to answer them correctly without prior preparation, at least in this capitalist country.
"So you've come here today to liberate this prison?"
"No, what I want to liberate is the whole of Gotham, for now."
Anatoly's eyes gleamed upon hearing Qin Wei's reply. Although their goals differed, he was unwilling to let personal grudges hinder Qin Wei's progress.
"Anyway, my mission has already failed. Since Gordon is the one you want to win over, I'll put aside my grudge against him for now. Go find him."
Qin Wei's lips moved. He originally wanted to persuade Anatoli to join his team, but firstly, he didn't know what the other party had done, and secondly, he didn't dare to keep someone who was not mentally sound around.
After hesitating, he finally gave up the idea.
Meanwhile, Gordon, dragging his battered body, entered the secret passage and ascended the dimly lit spiral staircase.
To his surprise, the road eventually led to the prison administration office.
At this moment, the riot in Sector C attracted the entire security force of Blackgate Prison. The administration office was empty, with only the red and blue alarm lights flashing in the corridor.
Gordon slowly made his way forward, supporting himself against the wall, and took out a baton for self-defense from the equipment room with the door open.
The administrative staff had long since left, but the offices on both sides of the corridor still had their lights on. Fine raindrops tapped against the windows, and doors opened and closed with the swaying sound of the wind. An overturned ink bottle on the table stained the scattered papers with a deep blue hue.
Gordon continued walking, when the snarling sounds coming from the warden's office at the end of the corridor caught his attention.
He slowed his pace, gripping his baton as he crept closer. He saw a huge safe behind the bookshelf, and Jess was squatting in front of it, stuffing banknotes into his handbag.
He already had four or five such tote bags beside him.
Gordon had just crouched down and slipped into the office when the door slammed shut behind him by the pressure of the air.
boom!
The door slammed shut with a loud bang.
Not only Gordon, but even Jess, who was filling the money container, was startled. Fortunately, the older man hid behind his desk in time, thus avoiding being seen by the other party.
However, the unusual noise still alerted the other party.
Jess drew his pistol and walked toward the desk, the only place where someone could hide.
He was a cautious fellow; instead of extending his arm, he held the gun close to his body, tucked under his arm. This is a common gun-holding position used by prison guards in emergency situations, effectively preventing enemies suddenly appearing around corners from seizing their weapons.
Gordon, gripping his baton, didn't dare breathe. As Jess's shadow drew closer, knowing his chances of survival were slim, he decided to strike first.
After all, Jess, who was in a hurry, wouldn't point a gun at the protagonist like a villain in a comic book and then ramble on and on.
If discovered, the other side will not hesitate to empty the magazine.
Hey!
A loud shout suddenly rang out in the quiet room, startling Jess. He then saw a dark figure dart out from behind the desk.
Jess instinctively pulled the trigger, and as the gunshot rang out, Gordon's baton struck him on the head.
Jess, who had been hit hard, fell to the ground with a cry of pain, while Gordon, who had been shot in the abdomen, immediately got up, clutched his wound, and rushed forward, pressing his entire weight down before Jess could raise his pistol to aim.
Gordon had been shot more than once, and his extensive experience with gunshot wounds told him that unless a vital organ was hit, the body had nearly ten seconds of buffer time before feeling pain and completely losing resistance.
He has to take down Jess within these few seconds!
Fueled by adrenaline, Gordon's physical functions briefly returned to their peak. He grabbed Jess's wrist holding the gun with one hand and punched him hard in the jaw with the other.
But Jess was no pushover either. A police academy dropout, he possessed exceptional fighting skills. He immediately locked his jaw, raised his arm to defend, and simultaneously braced his hips, attempting to knock Gordon off his body.
About two seconds passed, and Gordon felt a burning sensation spreading through his abdomen.
These are symptoms of internal bleeding, meaning that fresh blood from the wound is filling his abdominal cavity, which is not good news for him.
If he cannot subdue the other party, he should at least take away the other party's gun.
Thinking of this, Gordon suddenly leaned down and bit Jess's wrist.
This move caused him to lose the riding position he had worked so hard to secure, and he lost his dominance, allowing his opponent to free up his defensive hand to retaliate.
Jess clenched his fist and slammed it hard into Gordon's head.
a bit!
Two!
Three times!
Gordon's outer ear and temple were hit repeatedly, and dizziness rushed to his brainstem, but he did not give in. Instead, he twisted his neck and tore off a large chunk of flesh.
Jess roared in pain and finally released his grip on the pistol.
Five seconds had passed.
The growing pain in his abdomen was gradually robbing Gordon of his mobility, but he did not give up and struggled to grab the pistol from the ground.
Before he could even turn around, Jess grabbed him around the waist and threw him to the ground.
At this moment, Gordon's hand holding the gun was pressed to the ground, while Jess was swinging his fists and pounding into his brainstem from behind.
By this time, about ten seconds had passed, and Gordon felt his strength begin to dissipate, the fatigue that had accumulated since the beginning of the night beginning to erupt.
His eyelids grew heavy, and his breathing became increasingly weak.
At this point, only one path remained for Gordon.
The old man strained with all his might to bend his back, making a little space for his gun-wielding hand.
He then inserted the gun barrel into the wound in his abdomen.
"God! That hurt so much!" The intense pain caused the old man to let out a furious roar of despair before he died.
At the same time, the trigger was pulled.
boom!
boom! !
bang bang bang! ! !
He fired three shots at his own body; the bullets pierced through his body and struck Jess.
Jess's movements came to an abrupt halt. He looked down in disbelief and saw the seeping blood gradually soaking his shirt.
"I—I'm finished—"
He mumbled something, then fell to the ground with a thud.
Gordon's all-out, desperate fighting style successfully crippled Jess. Unlike Gordon, this greedy and despicable man was never prepared to die; even in his final moments, he was still thinking about those bags of money.
He struggled to climb toward the money bags and pulled them open one by one.
Upon smelling the distinctive ink scent of the US dollar bills, Jess's trembling lips broke into a smile for the first time.
"James—I—I died with money in my arms—and what about you—what were you dying for?"
Jess mumbled something and turned his head with difficulty.
To his surprise, James Gordon also had a satisfied smile on his face.
The old man was too weak to speak. He squeezed out his last bit of strength and mouthed a single word—Justice.
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