The Days of Being a Spiritual Mentor in Meiman

Chapter 818 Red Hood (End)

Chapter 820 Red Hood (End)

"I heard countless familiar voices from the noisy noises. I used to talk and laugh with them in luxurious mansions, but at this moment, the hatred in their tone seemed to kill me."

"I know that it is impolite to break into someone else's house. This is not in line with the rules of the Gotham gang, but what prompted me to do this is an emotion that I can't explain..."

"Why did you do this?" Jason asked in the truck: "Batman, give me a reason. I believe you are not such an impulsive person."

"Although I haven't known you officially for a long time, I think you should be very similar to me. You like to make all plans before doing something, and try not to have accidents as much as possible, but what are you doing now?"

"I don't know." Bruce gave an answer that surprised himself. He said: "An emotion prompted me to do this."

The shouts around became stronger and stronger, and gunshots began to sound gradually. Most of the people living in the North District were leaders of big gangs, so the lights here were bright and prosperous.

This place is like an isolated island, standing above the society of Gotham. Everyone here is the maker of the rules and the supporter of the rules. They sing praises for it.

Therefore, when a truck that should not be here rushed in, everyone was shouting and killing. The children sitting in the car could see the strong flames rising through the gap in the roof of the truck.

But their first reaction was not to scream, but to cover their mouths with their hands. They must not make any sound. This truck is not a good shelter. Once it explodes, no one can survive.

The first thing that was hit in the truck was the tire. The gangsters here are not the minions outside. Their shooting skills are very accurate. They also know that a tire blowout may cause the truck to lose control directly, but as long as it can stop, it is worth it.

The front wheel was hit, making a "bang" sound and emitting white smoke. Bruce's hand holding the steering wheel became tighter and tighter. The few muscles left in his arms burst out with all his strength, twisting the steering wheel to control the truck, and stepping on the accelerator to rush faster.

"Where is he going?! Stop him!"

"Oh no! It's the manor area! Quick! Quick! Shoot!"

"It's over, he's going to rush in, quick! Call everyone, something bad has happened!"

"The cab! Shoot the cab!"

But the more critical the moment, the clearer Bruce's thinking is. The route of the truck is constructed in his mind. The position of each gunman, the direction of each muzzle, and the traces of each bullet are all transformed into glittering lights, which are clearly visible in front of him.

The blue eyes under the red hood are getting brighter and brighter, and the speed of the truck is getting faster and faster, but the pointer of the fuel gauge begins to shake gradually.

The gasoline in this truck was added by the little sly guy before, and his gasoline was taken from the auto repair school. He is just a child and can't take so much gasoline. This gasoline can allow the car to drive from the East District to the North District, which is already the limit.

The truck was being shot at all the time, but because it happened so suddenly, most of the thugs were not prepared, and the truck had already rushed over, so the direct firepower was not too strong, but there were still stray bullets that shot into the car, and the children who were hit screamed.

This truck is like a short-lived tree, from sprouting to growing, and then withering, in just a few minutes, after its most glorious period, only the old and aging body is left.

With a "squeak", the sound of weak brakes came, and the truck with white smoke stopped at the door of a manor. Heavy rain poured down and the storm roared.

In the rain line, the name on the mailbox was like a fallen leaf in the wind, swaying constantly, but never falling. The few letters written on it were short, but the legend was long.

It was Falcone who walked out of the manor gate. He stood at the door of Falcone Manor, took the black umbrella from the waiter, and looked at the dilapidated truck in front of him expressionlessly.

He saw that the door of the cab was open, but the man did not get out. Instead, he grabbed the door, stepped on the handle and reached out. He reached out and flipped onto the top of the truck, looking down at Falcone.

The distance between the two was only a few dozen meters, and they could see each other clearly. Bruce saw the Godfather who came alone, like a stump that was difficult to shake in the storm. The part above the ground was no longer youthful and lush, but already old, but the roots deep underground were hard to see.

What Al Falcone saw was a strange man wearing a red hood, standing on a shabby truck on a rainy night with strong winds, and a violent emotion burst out and went straight into the sky.

"Good evening, Mr. Godfather." An extremely hoarse voice was almost inaudible through the strong wind.

The Godfather waved his hand to stop the gunman aiming at him and asked everyone around to retreat. He said, "Hello, your car is really nice. It looks very similar to the ones I saw in the early years."

"Aren't you going to let them shoot?" Bruce asked, "Don't you think I'm one of those dangerous lunatics?"

"Are you referring to the one who always likes to laugh, or the one who likes to steal things, or the one who likes to do human experiments?" Falcone looked at Bruce quietly and said, "They won't come to me because they don't like me."

Falcone lowered his head and looked at the puddle in front of his feet. He said, "They think I am the most boring person in the world, because I created the most boring order in the world, so they never come to me."

"I just want to ask you a question..." Bruce's voice echoed in the rainy night. He slowly walked towards the truck shed, and then he cut a hole in the side shed. When the wind and rain blew in, all the children hid in fear.

Not only did the cold wind and rain enter the car, but the bloody smell of the injured children also drifted out and blew in front of Falcone.

"Godfather, you spent forty years creating rules for Gotham. These rules are not perfect, but they are effective... But I just want to ask, who are you making these rules for?"

Falconet gently rubbed his wrist and said, "Don't beat around the bush with me, kid. If I say I'm doing this for Gotham, you'll say these kids are not doing well. If I say I'm doing this for myself, you'll say I'm doing this for Gotham."

"But in fact, I made such rules just because I came from that era. In that era, I could only make this choice and had no other choice."

"Forty years have passed. Both it and I are old. We have completed our missions, but I won't reform it from top to bottom. Do you know why?"

Bruce looked at the old godfather in silence, watching his figure swaying in the storm, but he never moved.

"I set an example and showed them how we decided the direction of history in that glorious era while talking and laughing." The godfather's voice always carries a special sense of time, as if returning to the era when the torch of the Statue of Liberty illuminated the world.

"I let them imitate me and learn to be a civilized person in the chaos, just like taming a dog. These rules are the chain I use to lead the dog."

"I don't have the patience to teach a dog how to be a human, because I know that dogs are dogs, they will not become people. They plunder profits for me, and I use these profits to light up the lights and build the city."

"A society that is rich enough will no longer raise dogs, but will definitely raise people with compassion and sympathy, and those among them who have courage, wisdom, and determination will eventually stand in front of me and say to me, Loosen your chains and set them free. "

The Godfather looked at the bright red hood, looked through the hood into Bruce's eyes, and then looked through his eyes into his soul. He said:

"These children proved your compassion, this truck proved your courage, this journey proved your wisdom, and facing me proved your courage..."

"Now, you can say what you should say, and after you finish, I will say what I should say."

Some of the intense emotions in Bruce's chest suddenly dissipated and turned into a slightly bitter emotion.

He passed all the way and cut through the thorns, but the one waiting at the end was not the devil, but the previous hero.

In the last era, the hero who failed to reach the end due to vision, knowledge, wisdom, and social conditions.

In the whistling wind, Bruce's voice came: "A friend of mine told me that this road is not considered a win only when you reach the end."

Obviously, this is not what the Godfather wants to hear. He did not expect that the people who came here would say this to him.

But he was not happy, and instead said, "If this makes you waver and give up, then you are doomed to fail. Don't waste my time anymore."

"Even if there is no perfect solution to this problem, the mafia is definitely the worst and wrong answer." Bruce paused, but still said that sentence: "The old rules should be retired, Mr. Godfather."

Falcone turned around and walked slowly towards the manor, his leather shoes stepped on the puddles, and every drop of water splashed was like gold panned from the gravel in that chaotic era.

Finally, he stood in the light of the manor gate, drew a cross on his chest, and whispered, "God bless Gotham, Amen."

When his figure disappeared, the lights in the manor slowly went out. The Godfather had never fallen asleep so early, but with the disappearance of the light in his bedroom window, the light of the Gotham Lighthouse became dim.

Every era will pass, and the arm that holds the torch high and cannot put it down will eventually turn into rotten wood with every night's storm, sinking to the bottom of the sea, watching the wheel of history pass by overhead.

Bruce stood on the shabby truck in the stormy night, watching the lights of the entire North District gradually go out, leaving only the deafening sound of rain and the red hood that was particularly conspicuous in the dark rainy night.

Jason, lying in the car, understood this conversation better than those ignorant children, or rather, he understood it even better than Bruce.

In this dream filled with confusion, Jason suddenly woke up, sat up from his seat, and stretched one hand out of the car window. The wind wrote a long poem on his arm with raindrops.

Bruce took off his hood. This disguised identity no longer made sense.

He threw the hood on the top of the truck. It slid down along the metal surface wet by the rain, like dewdrops on a newborn leaf, dripping slowly.

The red hood was caught by a tender hand, and the five fingers slowly closed. In the dark rainy night, Jason tightly grasped the only touch of color.

The fingers gradually stretched out, and shallow scars climbed up. After putting down the stack of papers in his hand, Bruce looked at Alfred with a little expectation.

Alfred, holding a candle, slowly walked to the door, turned to look at Bruce and said, "I like the last scene. You wrote it very well, sir."

"Why? Is it because this is the climax of the narrative?"

"No, because I like the color of the hood."

Tired

Chapter 819/1426
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The Days of Being a Spiritual Mentor in MeimanCh.819/1426 [57.43%]