Chapter 781: Deadly Joke (VIII)

Ten minutes later, Bruce looked at Jack, who was sitting in the passenger seat, wiping his eyes with a tissue, deliberately making exaggerated gestures, and said in a weird tone: "Oh, your joke is so funny, I haven't laughed so happily for a long time!"

"What's so funny?" Bruce asked, looking straight ahead.

Suddenly, Jack put his head close to Bruce, almost on his face, and asked him with wide eyes: "Do you need to eat? Are you hungry? There is bread in my car, do you want to eat?"

"No, I'm not hungry." Bruce replied, but soon, Jack exposed him, he put his head close to Bruce's stomach and said: "I heard your stomach growling, you must be hungry, come and have a piece of bread!"

Jack took out the bread he hadn't finished from his pocket, sniffed hard and said: "This is left over from last night, but it tastes really good, don't you want some?"

"No." Bruce refused again. Even if he starved to death, he would not eat the clown's food. Who knows what kind of bomb he stuffed in it?

Jack suddenly became quiet. He held the half of the bread in his hand, sat upright in the passenger seat, looked at the traffic jam in front and said: "Why didn't you ask me this question earlier? ... Why not earlier?"

"What question?" Bruce looked at them.

"How can I eat without money? ... That's what you just asked me. You really should have asked me earlier." Jack suddenly changed his expression. He straightened his messy hair and rubbed his eyes.

"What's wrong with this question?" Bruce asked again.

"Nothing." Jack suddenly shook his head, as if he didn't want to talk anymore. After a while, he asked again: "Have you made money?"

"Not yet." Bruce stepped on the accelerator, and the car drove forward a short distance, but stopped again.

Jack became strangely quiet, as if he didn't exist. Bruce drove the truck forward intermittently. After being stuck on the viaduct for more than an hour, he finally approached the distribution point.

When he arrived at the distribution point, Bruce found that the person who came to pick up the goods today was a stranger, and he looked unfriendly.

Bruce picked up the gun he had just bought. The moment the group saw the gun, their expressions changed. The bald leader winked at the back, and a thin man behind him came forward and curled his lips at Bruce indifferently and said, "Are you new here? Do you know the rules of the distribution point?"

These days, with Batman's genius and learning ability, he has already figured out the underlying rules. He didn't say much, just loaded the bullet, raised the gun and said, "I only know the rules of this thing."

Then the bald man came up and said, "Okay, young man, don't get too excited. None of us wants to get into trouble. After all, now is a good time to make money. If you lie in the hospital, you won't make a penny."

"Which warehouse should I go to?" Bruce touched the handle of the gun again and asked, and the thin man said again: "Go to Warehouse No. 4 to wait in line for unloading."

Bruce pointed the gun at him, pulled the trigger, and said, "Don't try to trick me. Warehouse No. 4 has the smallest parking space, and it takes half an hour to turn a corner. Let me go to Warehouse No. 8."

"Don't go too far." The thin man raised his voice and said, "Warehouse No. 8 is a place where only the street gangs on Green Street can go. You are a country bumpkin from the cross square, and you still want to go to Warehouse No. 8?"

The bald man also advised, "Newcomer, don't think you are great just because you have a gun. Everyone here has a gun. We don't take it out just because we don't want to waste bullets. Let's open a back door for you and let you unload the goods at Warehouse No. 5. The place there is the third largest..."

Bruce was unmoved. He said, "If you don't let me unload the goods at Warehouse No. 8, I will unload the goods here."

Said. He was about to turn around and open the warehouse door, when the bald man's face changed. He walked quickly to Bruce, stopped him, and said with gritted teeth: "Good boy, who taught you?"

Seeing his expression, Bruce knew that this trick was useful. Was it a trick he got from inviting an old truck driver in Cross Square to dinner yesterday?

The gang guarding the distribution point are not afraid of you threatening him with a gun. After all, as he said, who here doesn't have a gun? They may have more bullets.

What they are afraid of is. You put the car in the center and pile all the goods at the door. In that case, the cars behind can't get in. If there are too many trucks, they will be in a mess. They have to clear the way, and they can't do anything else this afternoon.

Moreover, if a car transporting valuables is stuck on the road, the leaders of those big gangs will interrogate them, and everyone will be in trouble.

Most truck drivers don't use this trick, either because they don't know or because they are afraid of offending too many people, but Bruce is not afraid at all. He doesn't have those complicated relationships, and the barefoot are not afraid of the ones wearing shoes.

The bald man also saw this, and he lowered his voice and said, "Let's each take a step back and unload the goods at warehouse No. 7."

"I have to go to warehouse No. 8, otherwise there is no way." Bruce stared at him, and then said, "I have already taken a step back. Don't think I don't know that warehouse No. 8 is not the best warehouse. Behind the corner where warehouse No. 9 turns east, there is another warehouse that specializes in transportation..."

"Okay, stop talking." The bald man looked around and said, "You know a lot, but you'd better keep your mouth shut, otherwise it won't do you any good."

After that, he waved to the person behind him and said, "Let him go to warehouse No. 8 to unload the goods!"

Bruce returned to the driver's seat with a gun in his hand. Jack, who was sitting in the co-pilot seat, clapped his hands and said, "You did a great job, Mr. Truck Driver. You have figured out all the tricks in just one week of work!"

Bruce said as he turned, "A week is still too long. I should have figured out these things within three days."

Jack lit a cigarette, and Bruce frowned and said, "Don't smoke in my car."

"I'll just smoke one." Jack stretched his hand out of the car window and shook off the ash. "Learn how to drive a truck in Gotham within three days, and then what are you going to do?"

Just as Bruce was about to speak, Jack took a deep puff of his cigarette and said, "Then end your stupid experience of life, go back to Wayne Building, and tell the shareholders that life in the slums is just like this."

"You will tell them that those poor guys really don't know how to work hard, and they deserve not to have food."

"Can't those beggars squatting on the road spend three days to learn how to drive a truck? Since they are so lazy, they shouldn't ask rich people for money when they have no money to eat. Anyway, they deserve it."

Jack's tone was very calm, without any anger at all. He put the cigarette in his mouth and said, "Then, that night, you will wear a worth of several The bat set of 100 million dollars comes to the slums you have experienced life, and you are fattened by those who are embarrassed. " "Save." "Then, you re -stand to the top of the Wenen Building. Thinking that the hero always has a lot of fame, and it is your fate without being understood. This world kisss you pain in pain, but you have never forgotten your kind nature ..." Smoke slowly spread out, and Jack played the ash out of the window. The talent of adults is the original of neuropathy "" "Have you ever thought that this society does not need you at all. Everything you do is just moved yourself." "People are very good at calling what they don't need as garbage, and both of us are thrown out of garbage, but only you are heroes." Batman, we have always looked down on you, because your every move is saying that this society is right. "" But, in fact, they can be narrowed, everything they need, they will be said to be garbage. " The face, as if the master who thrown out, how good and how worth looking forward to. "Jack directly threw the cigarette head out of the window and said," The ugly, like a dog abandoned by the owner. "Bruce turned to Jack and said," Did you finish? " Don't you have your own truck?"

"You've hit the nail on the head again." Jack turned his head to look at him, smiled and said, "I used to have one, but now I don't."

"Why is it gone?" Bruce asked again.

"That's the previous question."

"What's the question?"

"How can I eat without money?" Jack shrugged and said, "How can I buy a truck without money?"

"What about your original car?" Bruce asked.

"Let me think." Jack tapped his temple, made a thoughtful expression and said, "It was in the first week of my becoming a truck driver... or the second week? My car was set on fire."

"I can't remember the specific reason. Either I didn't load the goods according to the gang's wishes, or I didn't give benefits to these warehouse managers. Anyway, one day, when I went out, I saw a raging fire...

Jack stretched out a hand and waved it in front of his eyes. He said, "I saw my new car burned. It was raining that night, but rain couldn't put out such a fire. It was burned to wreckage right in front of me..."

"At first, I tried to put out the fire like crazy. The flames burned my eyebrows and burned my face. But later, the rain got heavier..."

Accompanied by Jack's voice, the rain fell, making a tiny sound when hitting the ground, and the crackling sound of the burning flames rang in my ears. In the rainy night, the flames of the truck were particularly strong.

A black shadow stood in front of the flames, watching him burn quietly, like a traveler who had exhausted his last strength in the snowy night.

His physical strength, time, and efforts were all used up in the long night. He had no other firewood to burn, so he could only burn the hope for the future.

He used this flame to keep warm, hoping not to freeze to death tonight, but he didn't have to spend the night again, because there would be no sun tomorrow.

In the rainy night, he sat on the ground, raised his head, and quietly watched the flames of the truck burn. The rain fell on him, but it didn't fall to the ground, but disappeared into his body like a baby returning to his mother's arms.

Looking at the bright and hot flames, the traveler danced excitedly, feeling happy for this last night of carnival.

As the flames rose, he laughed, and his deafening and crazy laughter penetrated the dark sky of Gotham.

Because he knew that it was because of this fire that he finally had the opportunity to laugh, piercing through the dark clouds and covering the city.

It was this fire that burned off the mask of poverty and hardship that disciplined him, allowing him to show a sincere smile and make such a great move.

Instead, like all those who wear masks, they walk gently into that good night, just as this society wants them to do, coming with noise and dying in silence.

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