If one were to ask what the most miserable professions are in the DC universe, being an honest cop in Gotham City would be one of the answers.
It is extremely difficult to be a good cop in Gotham. You only need to look at how well Arkham Asylum is doing to understand how depraved the city is.
Gangs, drugs, smuggling, and black market deals permeate every neighborhood. In the secluded sewers, the bodies of strangers are often found. Filth and corruption are rooted in the very fabric of the city and have become one with it. No one seems capable of separating them.
Then, Batman emerged. He fought crime with powerful force, becoming a beacon of hope for the city.
Even though he wore a black cowl, maintained a mysterious presence, and his methods were sometimes brutal, he couldn't stop the public's enthusiasm. Many Gotham residents viewed Batman as a savior, believing only he could pull Gotham out of the swamp of crime.
The police, however, were the exception. Few police officers liked Batman. Work was one thing, but reputation was more important.
The more news there was about Batman, the worse the police's reputation became. They were slowly labeled as inept failures by the public. Especially online, if you opened the ShowMe website and clicked on any Batman thread, criticisms about the Gotham police were always in the top few lines: incompetent scum, useless, good-for-nothings, and so on.
Hearing bad things constantly naturally put them in a bad mood, yet their sense of justice forced them to give a thumbs-up to Batman, because he did the things they wanted to do but dared not, such as capturing Adousan.
"Captain, do we really have to engage?"
Jim Gordon gripped his phone tightly, clearly struggling.
Ramirez broke free from her partner's grasp and stepped forward.
"We can meet with him?"
Jim looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
Ramirez spoke with a meaningful edge. "The Commissioner's order was for us to detain the car and the wanted criminal inside. He provided the location but not the individual's personal information. That means the driver of the Lamborghini may or may not be the wanted criminal. The key lies in how we handle this."
Jim instantly grasped the point, and the other officers realized it too. They had been so preoccupied with thinking about Batman that they forgot such an important detail.
The Commissioner only said to catch an international wanted criminal, but he didn't give a name!
There are so many international wanted criminals; how are they supposed to know which one? What if they arrest the wrong person? Who would take responsibility?
This realization instantly energized Jim. He racked his brain for the right words to talk their way out of the situation.
Hank frowned. "But Adousan is in that car! The Commissioner will never forgive us if he finds out we let Adousan go."
Ramirez coughed.
"Did you tell him Adousan is in the car?"
Hank froze, then immediately gave her a thumbs-up, full of admiration.
Ramirez continued, "Police work has to follow rules. We can't just take his word for it. He says Adousan is in the car, and we believe him? We need to meet and talk."
"Captain, we should send someone up to negotiate and check out the situation inside the car. If it really is Adousan..."
There was no need to finish the sentence. Although they weren't big fans of Batman, if they had to choose between letting Batman go and rescuing a drug lord, they would choose the former every time.
Jim took a few drags on his cigarette, stomped the butt out, and declared,
"I'll go."
"No, you can't go!"
Ramirez also shook her head.
"You are the commander. Let me go."
Jim shook his head. "You can't handle the liability. It has to be me."
"I still think it's inappropriate. What if it's not Batman in the car..."
Jim took off his holster and placed his phone on the car hood.
"Whether it's Batman or not, I have to go. Being a cop always involves risk." He then spoke into the speakerphone loudly. "I am Jim Gordon, Sergeant of the Gotham City Police Department. I am not carrying any weapons or communication devices. Sir, I want to talk to you. Please do not shoot."
Jim Gordon raised his hands high and slowly walked toward the Lamborghini.
A Highly Cautionary Talk
Watching the approaching figure, Emily instinctively gripped her handgun. She didn't trust the police, especially those in Gotham City.
Luke waved his hand, signaling her to relax. He watched the figure approaching, a strange expression crossing his face.
Jim Gordon!
Batman's old partner, the future Police Commissioner. He recalled Gordon had a highly intelligent daughter, though he wondered if she was in high school yet.
Since it was Jim Gordon, there was room for negotiation.
Luke rolled down the car window just enough to expose a gap for his half-hand and tossed out the handcuffs he had prepared for Adousan.
"Put these on. Don't try anything, or you'll regret it."
Jim Gordon didn't hesitate. He picked up the handcuffs and secured them on his wrists. The moment the clasp locked, countless electric currents surged from the surface. The current climbed up his arm, completely paralyzing it.
Jim was horrified and instinctively struggled.
Luke spoke up, "The current is just temporarily paralyzing your hands. It won't kill you. You can approach now."
Jim Gordon took a sharp breath, realizing how cautious the person was to think of such a method. After the electric shock, his hands were painfully numb. He couldn't lift them, much less fight back.
With complex emotions, Jim walked up to the car window. He tried to peer inside to check the situation but finally lowered his head in frustration. The person was too careful, using a one-way mirror.
"Sir, could you please roll down the window?"
"No need. For your own safety, it's better if we don't meet face-to-face."
Jim frowned slightly. "Sir, I don't understand your implication."
Emily was also completely confused. It sounded like the two of them had met before.
Luke offered no further explanation, getting straight to the point.
"Sergeant Gordon, don't beat around the bush. What is the purpose of your visit? If it's for Adousan, I can open the rear trunk so you can take a look. If it's for me, I advise you not to hold on to unrealistic ideas."
Jim's heart thumped. "May... may I look?"
"Of course."
Luke pressed a button, and the trunk automatically popped open. Jim didn't hesitate, walking over and carefully examining the person inside.
That pale, bloodless face, despite being covered in oil and dirt, Jim recognized immediately.
Adousan Iba Correndo Shard Rahman!
Arab-American, the current boss of the Razor Gang, and one of Gotham City's major drug lords.
I never thought I'd see the day!
An unspeakable sense of satisfaction surged through him, which he quickly suppressed. Just as he was about to take a closer look, the trunk door closed.
"Sergeant Gordon, anything else you'd like to say?"
Jim was silent, seemingly weighing the pros and cons. After about ten seconds, he suddenly raised his voice and shouted loudly,
"Sir, I must seriously warn you not to stuff so many cucumbers into the trunk! They will spoil! Also, it's 2:30 in the morning. Go home early if you have nothing to do; don't loiter on the roadside!"
With that, he turned and walked away.
Emily was baffled. "What happened? Cucumbers? Are there cucumbers in the trunk?"
Luke gripped the steering wheel, watching the police cars start to move and separate on the road. He muttered to himself,
"An interesting guy!"
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