Marvel: The Sole Player

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A few minutes later, Harvey finally recovered and pushed open the car door to get out.

Darian glanced down. "Why did you change your pants?"

Harvey replied without blinking, "I realized those pants weren’t dry yet, so I just swapped them for a spare pair."

"As expected of a veteran, your preparations are thorough. You even carry spare pants with you," Darian said admiringly.

"Keep it down. You still have a lot to learn."

The Police car’s engine had long been turned off, and it sat silently at the edge of the abandoned industrial zone.

Less than a hundred meters ahead was the old pier along the Gotham River.

The river surface shimmered with a dull light. A few rusted-out cranes stood askew on the bank, and the air held a damp scent of river water mixed with rust.

This riverside pier used to be the core distribution center for Gotham’s inland river freight, but it was completely abandoned after the main port moved outward.

Due to its remote and deserted location near the river, it was a favorite among Gotham’s criminal circles, becoming the most common place for gangs to dispose of bodies and evidence.

Thanks to years of gangs "chumming the water," the fish in this area were numerous and fat, attracting many anglers who came for the reputation. Almost every day, a row of fishermen could be seen sitting by the river with their rods.

However, these anglers would always catch strange things, such as clothes, jewelry, Gundam fragments, or even entire Gundams.

They could catch basically anything except fish.

Furthermore, these anglers were incredibly bold.

During their fishing, unidentified humanoid floating objects would often drift by. They would just glance at them and continue staring at their floats, only choosing to call the Police after they packed up to leave.

Some had even witnessed gangs cleaning up a scene with their own eyes, yet they remained seated on their stools, their fishing rods not moving an inch.

That unfazed demeanor often made gang members mistakenly believe they had run into some hidden Gotham big shot, making them too afraid to disturb them as they scurried away.

In reality, these fellow anglers had just chummed the water and didn’t want to startle the fish.

Harvey scanned along the riverbank and saw several people fishing about a dozen meters downstream. They were all dressed in fisherman hats and windbreakers, clutching their rods and staring at the water. They didn’t even blink at the Police car parked by the roadside.

He was skeptical. "Are you sure the lead is here? Don’t tell me those fishermen are members of the False Face Society."

"Exactly."

Darian nodded, his tone certain.

Harvey raised an eyebrow and scrutinized the men from head to toe, but didn’t notice anything unusual.

"But they look perfectly normal. How could they be from the False Face Society?"

Darian chuckled. "Harvey, your powers of observation still need work. Didn’t you notice what’s in their buckets?"

"I saw it. Fish. What’s the problem?"

"That’s the biggest problem. How could there possibly be fish in an angler’s bucket?"

Harvey: "..."

In his dozen or so years on the job, he had never heard such a bullshit deduction.

It was as absurd as seeing an office worker eating a sandwich for breakfast and concluding their identity was suspicious.

Besides, why the hell couldn’t there be fish in an angler’s bucket?

This was pure slander!

As an angler with ten years of experience who often came home empty-handed, Harvey was very indignant at this remark.

Before he could speak up to defend his fellow anglers, Darian had already started walking toward them.

He bent down along the way, picked up a fist-sized rock, and hurled it into the river in front of them.

Splash!

The rock crashed into the water, kicking up a large splash. Ripples surged outward, causing all the floats to bob violently.

Seeing this, the anglers frowned and glanced at Darian, but they said nothing and quickly turned back to stare at the water.

Darian chuckled. "No reaction even to that? And they dare pretend to be anglers."

If it were a real angler who had spent half the day chumming and waiting, only to have someone throw a rock into their spot and scare the fish, they would have definitely blown their top and tried to kill him. They wouldn’t be this calm.

Harvey, also being an angler, saw the anomaly as well. His gaze darkened as he warily watched the men.

"Gentlemen, we are Gotham Police officers. We need you to cooperate with an investigation."

Hearing this, the anglers’ expressions changed slightly.

One of them, a blonde man, dropped his rod and stood up with a forced smile. "Officer, we’re just ordinary fishermen. We haven’t done anything wrong, have we?"

Harvey remained unmoved, his tone firm. "I suspect you are involved in a major case. Please show your identification and cooperate with a search and questioning."

The blonde man’s smile froze. "Officer, you don’t have the right to do that."

"Actually, I do."

Harvey said coldly, "If you refuse to cooperate, I’ll have to take you all back to the precinct for interrogation one by one."

The anglers looked at each other, anger surfacing on their faces.

"Damn pigs, you’re pushing it too far!"

The angler closest to Harvey suddenly lunged, swinging his fishing rod at Harvey’s head.

Harvey instinctively stepped back and raised his arm to block.

Crack!

With a crisp sound, the fishing rod snapped in two.

Darian had somehow inserted himself between the two, breaking the rod with a single punch.

Before the man could react, another punch landed solidly in his abdomen.

The man didn’t even let out a grunt before his eyes rolled back, and he slumped limply to the ground.

Harvey reacted quickly as well, immediately drawing his pistol and aiming it at the others, shouting, "Don’t move! Or I’ll shoot!"

The blonde man was furious. "Officer, we haven’t done anything. You’re abusing your power. I’m going to sue you!"

"Haven’t done anything?"

Darian sneered. "You’ve assaulted an officer, resisted arrest, possessed lethal weapons, engaged in illegal assembly, and stolen government property!"

The blonde man looked incredulous. "We’re just fishing together with rods, and that counts as illegal assembly and possession of lethal weapons? Fine, but when did we steal government property?"

Darian pointed at the fish in their buckets. "These fish are ornamental fish specially raised in the river by the Gotham City government at great expense to attract tourists and boost the tourism economy. Now you’ve caught them all. If that’s not stealing government property, what is?"

Blonde man: "???"

Who the hell would raise ornamental fish in this river!

Besides, who would come to a place like Gotham for tourism? Do they have a death wish?

The blonde man hurriedly argued, "Officer, you’ve got it wrong. We actually bought these fish from the market."

Darian snorted. "Deceiving an officer and obstructing public duties. That’s another charge!"

"???"

The blonde man’s face darkened. "You’re intentionally framing us. We don’t accept this, and we don’t believe you’d actually dare to shoot!"

"Exactly!"

"So what if you’re a cop!"

The others joined in the jeering, not at all intimidated by Harvey’s gun.

Seeing that these men were completely uncooperative, Harvey felt a bit conflicted.

It was true that they didn’t have any solid evidence at the moment. He couldn’t actually shoot them, could he?

"You’ve got backbone. I like people with backbone the most."

Darian snatched the service weapon from Harvey’s hand and aimed it directly at the anglers. "I hope you’ll still have this much backbone when you’re in the afterlife."

Harvey jumped in fright and quickly grabbed his arm. "Rookie, don’t shoot! If we can’t prove they’re problematic and you kill someone, we’ll be in huge trouble!"

After all, Darian had a history. He was truly afraid Darian would pull the trigger over a disagreement.

Darian reassured him, "Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. If anything happens, I’ll take the fall."

"But you’re using my damn gun! If you fire, I’m the one who takes the blame!"

Harvey was so anxious his voice cracked.

Seeing the two of them scuffling, the blonde man let out a disdainful laugh. "The same old routine—good cop, bad cop. Don’t you officers have any new tricks? I’ll say it straight: you don’t have the guts to shoot because you can’t handle the responsibility."

He was certain these two officers were bluffing, just trying to scare them at most.

Just then, an angler behind the blonde man suddenly widened his eyes, staring at Darian’s face as if he had seen a ghost.

"Wait... I think I recognize that face!"

His voice trembled as he pointed at Darian. "He’s the Gotham Gun God! The Gotham Gun God who took out Baso with one shot!"

"The Gotham Gun God?"

Several people gasped simultaneously.

Word had already spread through Gotham’s criminal underworld that Black Mask’s most capable henchman, Baso, had been taken out by a Police officer.

There was no intense gunfight. Baso hadn’t even had time to say a few lines before he was written off, dying as casually as some background lackey with no screen time.

In Gotham’s criminal circles, big shots were assassinated by rivals, backstabbed by their own men, or beaten half to death by Batman and forced into retirement, but no one had ever heard of one being soloed by a cop.

Darian’s feat was arguably a first in the history of Gotham’s criminal underworld.

Thanks to Baso’s reputation, Darian was now incredibly famous throughout Gotham’s criminal circles.

In a place like Gotham, most criminals dared to be so brazen because they relied on the fact that officers wouldn’t shoot randomly and had to follow the rules, bound by red tape.

An officer like Darian, who dared to shoot at the drop of a hat, was essentially a "dimensional strike."

Because of this, Darian had earned a resounding nickname in Gotham’s criminal circles.

The Gotham Gun God!

Not only was his marksmanship precise, but he was also ruthless.

Other officers might be bluffing when they held a gun, but Darian truly dared to fire.

Upon hearing this title, the disdain on the blonde man’s face instantly evaporated, replaced by a standard sycophantic smile as his body instinctively hunched over.

"So it’s Officer Darian. A misunderstanding, it’s all a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?"

Darian chuckled and gestured downward with the gun. "All of you, hands behind your heads and squat down. Slowly. I said, hands behind your heads and squat!"

With the dark muzzle pointed at them, the blonde man and his crew didn’t dare say another word, immediately squatting in a row with their hands behind their heads.

Their movements were so practiced that it was clear they weren’t law-abiding citizens.

The blonde man tried to argue further, "Officer, we’re good people, really."

Darian curled his lip. "Good people? Do good people dye their hair blonde?"

"I was born with—sorry, Officer. I’ll dye this thing green when I get back."

The "logic" in Darian’s hand was too hard to argue with, so the blonde man didn’t dare talk back and could only obediently admit his mistake.

Harvey watched from the side with mixed emotions.

After being a Gotham officer for over a decade, his deterrent power in front of these people was actually inferior to a rookie who had been on the job for less than two days.

The more Harvey watched, the more envious he became, and the look in his eyes changed.

It was decided!

From now on, he also wanted to live a life of administrative leave like Darian!

Darian didn’t realize he had turned a veteran Conservative officer into a radical on the spot.

He stared at the blonde man and asked, "What are you guys doing here?"

The blonde man quickly replied, "Officer, we’re just ordinary fishermen..."

Thud!

Darian slammed an elbow into the blonde man’s face.

The blonde man let out a short scream and slumped to the ground clutching his nose, dark red blood leaking through his fingers.

The others shuddered, instinctively shrinking their necks back.

Didn’t they say he was the Gotham Gun God?

Why did he suddenly become the Gotham Elbow King?

Ignoring their reaction, Darian bent down and grabbed the blonde man’s collar. "I’ll ask one more time. What are you doing here?"

The blonde man was dazed from the blow and happened to meet Darian’s gaze.

His eyes flickered, and then, as if the focus had been drained out of them, they suddenly became empty and dull.

He began to speak haltingly, "We are peripheral members of the False Face Society. Our superiors gave us a mission to guard this old pier and wait for a ship."

The others’ expressions changed drastically. "Aipad, are you crazy? You’re leaking our mission! Mr. Black Mask won’t let us off!"

The blonde man didn’t react at all, looking like a total imbecile.

Darian continued, "What ship?"

"A fishing boat."

The blonde man answered mechanically, "It will come up from the lower reaches of the Gotham River tonight and dock at the third berth of this abandoned pier. The containers on the ship are full of arms. We don’t know the exact quantity; we’re only responsible for the pickup."

"And after the pickup?"

"After the ship docks, we unload the goods, load them onto trucks waiting outside the pier, and transport them directly to the warehouse on Kane Street. Once they arrive, another group will handle the distribution. It’s out of our hands after that."

Following Darian’s interrogation, the blonde man spilled everything he knew without reservation.

His companions all looked ashen-faced, already starting to imagine which place—or which several places—they would be buried in.

Darian couldn’t bear to see them like that, so he gave each of them an elbow strike and then hypnotized them.

His Spirit attribute was no longer what it used to be. Controlling a few ordinary people simultaneously was more than easy.

Of course, he still had to go through the motions.

Darian installed some miniature devices on them, and each person’s weight instantly increased by a few pounds.

Harvey asked curiously, "What did you put on them?"

"Miniature bombs. With these safeguards, they won’t dare to betray us."

"Unbelievable."

Harvey was stunned. "Are you really a Police officer?"

Darian nodded. "Of course. I graduated properly from the Police academy."

At least, that’s what his identity profile said.

"If you hadn’t said so, I would’ve thought you graduated from Arkham."

The corner of Harvey’s mouth twitched violently.

He felt that Darian was practically on par with those lunatics in Arkham.

No, he should say Darian was even worse.

It was lucky this guy was a cop. If he had become a criminal, he’d be a supervillain at the very least.

Harvey didn’t press further.

He knew that for some things, as long as you got the result, there was no need to look into the process; otherwise, it wouldn’t be good for him.

Then he asked, "What do you plan to do next?"

He asked this quite naturally. He didn’t even realize he had begun listening to this rookie’s ideas.

Darian said seriously, "I plan to sneak into the False Face Society alone. You’ll be responsible for backup outside."

Harvey frowned, a bit worried. "That’s too dangerous. Those people in the False Face Society are no pushovers. Can you handle it alone?"

Darian grinned. "Don’t worry. Stealth is what I’m best at."