The saying, "The good die young, but the wicked live a thousand years," proved to have some scientific basis.
Just when the two assumed Adousan was dead, a low cough echoed from inside the car.
Emily quickly ripped open the car door, dragging him out to check on him.
"How is he?"
"He's still breathing."
Luke tutted, shaking his head. "To survive a dozen rolls like that—he's got nine lives."
"Don't you start!"
Recalling that cannon shot, the girl's anger flared up. "We're here to capture him, not kill him! Why did you need to use a 'super weapon'? If you'd killed him, how would we investigate anything next?"
"...I need to clarify. That wasn't a super weapon. It was an overload device that launches a negative ion energy stream. Also, did you go to college?"
Emily reacted like a rooster whose vital spot had been pricked.
"What are you implying!"
"My apologies, I didn't mean anything by it. Actually, I didn't go to college either..." He paused, then added, "...I didn't even graduate middle school."
Luke shrugged. "In principle, negative ions are beneficial to carbon-based life but have a substantial effect on metal. The purpose of that shot was to destroy the car's drive system, not to harm Adousan himself. If he died because of this, the responsibility should fall on Toyota's safety performance, not me. Understand?"
"Sophistry!"
Emily snorted, signaling that she reluctantly accepted his explanation.
Working together, they dragged the unconscious Adousan into the Lamborghini. Luke pulled a shot of adrenaline from the trunk and injected it into him.
With that, it would be difficult for him to die.
By now, it was 2:30 a.m. Even the nightingales had stopped calling.
Just as Luke was driving away, three police cars suddenly appeared at the intersection in the distance.
The Ambush
Newly promoted Sergeant Jim Gordon called Commissioner Gillian B. Loeb.
"Mr. Loeb, the person has been found. I need one final confirmation. Are you absolutely certain the person in the vehicle is an internationally wanted criminal?"
A hoarse voice, laced with undisguised anger, came from the phone.
"Do not question my orders. Remember, once you catch them, send them directly to the West Side Precinct."
As soon as he finished speaking, the line went dead.
Jim Gordon put away his phone, a hint of gloom crossing his eyes. The officer next to him glanced at his captain and quietly muttered,
"The West Side Precinct again? How many times is this now?"
Jim didn't answer, staring out the window.
"We're practically the mob's personal toilet paper. They use us to wipe their asses whenever they feel like it and then flush us down the sewer, without even paying us a reward."
Officer Ramirez, a female officer, sneered, "That's because you haven't seen the Commissioner's grand villa. Go once, and you'll know where the money goes."
"Enough!"
Jim cut his subordinates off. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, taking a deep drag.
"Snap out of it. If it truly is a wanted criminal, prepare for a fight. If not..." He paused, adding, "Try not to hurt anyone."
The three police cars spread out, driving side-by-side to block the road. More police vehicles sped up from behind, creating a complete blockade on the already narrow street.
At the same time, an armored vehicle with a Black Hawk insignia stopped on the nearby lawn. The door opened, and over a dozen heavily armed SWAT officers rushed out, spreading out in a fan shape, surrounding them from all directions.
Emily's face was pale.
"They seem to be targeting us?"
Luke tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, his face betraying no emotion.
"How did the police know our location?"
"That's what I'd like to know. One second we catch Adousan in a drug den, and the next, the police show up. The drug dealers couldn't have called the police, right?"
"How is that possible? Why would drug dealers call the police for help?"
The girl's tone matched her dramatic expression. Luke smiled but said nothing. He had always believed he had a clear understanding of Gotham's dark side, but at this moment, he suddenly realized how naive his former perception was.
Gotham City is so damn corrupt.
Jim Gordon picked up the megaphone.
"People inside the vehicle, listen up. We are the Gotham City Police Department. We require your cooperation in an ongoing investigation. Please exit the vehicle with your hands on your heads. Do not resist."
While he spoke, the vehicles behind slowly moved forward. Several fully armored SWAT officers hid in the grass, their AR-15 automatic rifles aimed at the black Lamborghini. If the occupants made any move, they would pull the trigger without hesitation.
The situation instantly became tense.
The Corrupt Request
Emily, being an FBI agent, quickly noticed the police movements. As the circle tightened, her anxiety rose. She could shoot drug dealers without hesitation because they deserved it, but the police were different.
She truly did not want a conflict with them unless absolutely necessary.
"What should we do?"
"First, talk. Then, consider action."
Luke opened a vocal channel and stated clearly, word for word,
"Adousan, an Arab-American, the boss of the East Side Razor Gang, and a super-criminal who controls the underground drug trade in Gotham City and Metropolis. I just captured him, and now the police show up. I'm very curious: who tipped you off? The drug dealers?"
Adousan, Razor Gang!
Hearing those names, the faces of the surrounding police officers instantly changed.
Jim Gordon frowned and said sternly,
"Sir, please step out of the car and submit to a search. We will guarantee your safety."
"Adousan's car is on the grass not far from here. It's a Toyota SUV, license plate 056XKRW. You can check it out."
Ramirez stepped forward.
"I just received a text message. It really is Adousan's car. The body is severely damaged, and no one was found inside. He must have been taken away."
Another officer chimed in, "Could it be Batman?"
Ramirez scoffed, "What else? Given Commissioner Loeb's personality, why would he mobilize detectives and SWAT at 2:30 a.m. unless the situation was urgent... to rescue a drug lord!"
The statement was harsh. The usually steady Jim Gordon frowned, glaring at her sternly.
"Do not jump to conclusions before the facts are established."
"But what if it's true, Captain?"
Ramirez did not back down. "If Adousan really is in that car, and we detain these people and send them to the West Side Precinct, you all know what the result will be."
Everyone fell silent. No one sent to the West Side Precinct had ever come out.
"Captain!"
Ramirez said seriously, "We can't do this. It's too shameful."
The officers exchanged glances, remaining silent. The situation—being police officers forced to risk their lives to rescue a notorious drug lord—felt like something out of a cynical novel.
Jim Gordon waved his hand irritably.
"Hank, take her aside. I don't want to hear her speak."
Ramirez tried to speak again but was dragged away by Hank and another officer.
Just then, his phone rang. It was the Commissioner.
"Jim, tell me the car is surrounded. Why haven't you issued the command to attack?"
"The situation has changed slightly. I..."
"I don't care about the changes! I'm only telling you one thing: the car and the people inside must be detained. That is an order."
Jim opened his mouth, then whispered, "I understand."
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