Marvel: The Sole Player

Gordon held Darian back and lectured him for a long time, repeating every precaution he could think of several times before finally letting him go.

It couldn’t be helped; the Gotham City Police Department was severely understaffed.

Being willing to stay in this place as a Police officer was no easy feat in itself.

Moreover, they faced various dangers daily; encountering armed robbery on patrol was routine, and every few days they had to deal with those crazed supervillains. The casualty rate was always high.

Thus, every active officer was a vital resource for the Gotham City Police Department; losing one meant one less, and replacements were hard to find.

Especially a talent like Darian, who could go undercover in the Penguin Gang for so long and provide crucial intel. Such people were rare resources in the Gotham City Police Department, and Gordon didn’t want anything happening to him.

After leaving the Director’s office, following Gordon’s arrangement, Darian soon met his partner.

"Rookie, I’m your partner, Harvey Bullock. Just call me Harvey. I’ve been in this hellhole for over ten years; there’s nothing in the department I don’t know. If you have any questions, just ask."

Harvey was an older man wearing a fedora, with a face full of stubble—the classic image of a Police veteran.

Darian felt a surge of respect upon hearing this.

To have survived in the Gotham City Police Department for over a decade was enough to command admiration.

"Hello, I’m Darian. I just joined the Gotham City Police Department."

"I’ve heard of you. Undercover in the Penguin Gang for six months, helping the department bust multiple illegal deals, and managed to walk away unscathed. You’ve got some skills, kid."

Harvey spoke with admiration, then kindly reminded him: "But you’d better be careful. If Cobblepot finds out, he’ll probably be livid. That guy cares about his reputation more than anything. Even with that Police uniform protecting you, retaliation is inevitable. Keep your eyes peeled lately."

Darian asked curiously, "Who’s Cobblepot?"

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "The boss of the Penguin Gang! You were in the Penguin Gang for so long and don’t even know that?"

Darian finally realized. "Oh, you mean The Penguin."

The Penguin was a famous villain in Gotham, the leader of the Penguin Gang, and he looked just like a penguin.

Darian had seen this character in comics, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with him.

"Keep it down!"

Harvey quickly cut him off. "That guy hates being called that. He might even have ears in the department. If that gets back to him, you’re in real trouble. Remember, even inside the Police building, watch your mouth."

"Alright."

Darian agreed verbally, but he didn’t really take it to heart.

Not to mention the entire DC Universe, even just in this small patch of Gotham, The Penguin was just an average villain.

He was either getting beaten up by the ’evil’ Batman every day or being bullied by his fellow supervillains. He really didn’t have much prestige.

"Follow me."

Fearing Darian might blurt out something else inappropriate, Harvey led him straight out of the station.

The two of them walked out one after the other and climbed into a Police car parked at the entrance.

Darian sat in the passenger seat. Harvey closed the door, started the engine, and casually pulled a cigar from his pocket to light it.

Harvey: "Ay—~~"

He glanced at Darian and handed him one.

"Smoke?"

"I don’t smoke."

Darian declined. Looking at Harvey amidst the smoke, he asked, "Is it okay to smoke on duty?"

Harvey chuckled. "Rookie, Gotham doesn’t have that many rules. After all, rules are dead, but people are alive."

"Understood."

Seeing Darian was so quick on the uptake, Harvey nodded with an expression that said he was a promising student.

Dropping his joking tone, he said seriously, "Since Gordon assigned you to me, it means he thinks highly of you. I’m sure he’s already told you everything you need to know, so I won’t repeat it. Instead, I’ll teach you something practical."

As he spoke, he leaned over to pull an old notebook from the Police car’s glove compartment and tossed it onto Darian’s lap.

"This is the sum total of my experience from over a decade as a cop in Gotham. It should be of some help to you."

Darian looked down at the cover. Written on it were the words: Gotham Survival Guide.

He opened the notebook, and a dense block of text immediately met his eyes.

"Survival Rule One: Never touch the water in the sewers, especially the kind with an unusual color."

"Survival Rule Two: If you encounter strange riddles, never try to solve them. If you hear strange laughter, stay far away immediately."

"Survival Rule Three: Protecting plants is everyone’s responsibility."

"Survival Rule Four: Always have a gas mask ready."

"Survival Rule Five..."

The notebook was filled with various survival rules, looking almost like some creepy urban legend rules.

Darian praised him inwardly.

As expected of a veteran player who had survived Gotham for over a decade; he really had some substance.

This thing wasn’t just a survival guide; it was clearly a walkthrough for clearing the dungeon.

Harvey slowly exhaled a puff of smoke. "Just follow those survival rules, and I guarantee you’ll get by safely in the Gotham City Police Department. I only have this one copy, but since I like you, kid, it’s yours."

Darian was a bit surprised.

Although these survival rules weren’t very useful to him, Harvey’s attitude as a veteran player taking a newbie under his wing still touched him as a player.

"I won’t take it for nothing. Consider this a small token of my appreciation."

Darian pulled out the cash left over from booking a room yesterday and stuffed it all into Harvey’s hand.

Harvey looked at the cash in his hand and frowned. "What kind of person do you take me for? I’m telling you this for your own good, not for your money."

"It’s our first meeting, and I have nothing else to give. Just take this money to buy some cigars."

"Smoking doesn’t cost this much."

"Then add some drinks. Smoking without drinking is like not drinking at all."

"...."

After several rounds of back-and-forth, Harvey finally gave in with a helpless look. "Sigh, fine. I’ll take it this time, but don’t do this again."

He stuffed the bills into another compartment of the glove box.

Darian caught a glimpse inside as he did so and vaguely saw several more notebooks lying in that compartment, their covers identical to the one in his hand.

Darian: "..."

Noticing Darian’s gaze, Harvey coughed twice, closed the glove box lid, and said without changing his expression, "I’ll take you for a spin today to get you familiar with our daily routine."

With that, he floored the gas, and the Police car turned onto the main road.

Harvey was a talkative person; he spoke almost non-stop throughout the drive.

As they chatted, the topic eventually turned to Gotham’s current top celebrity, Batman.

Harvey knew far more about Batman than the street thugs did.

Years ago, when Batman first appeared in Gotham City, he caused the city’s crime rate to plummet in a short period.

All of this stemmed from Batman’s intimidation through fear.

He never killed, adhering to an absolute ’no-kill’ rule.

No matter how heinous the criminal, he would never deal a lethal blow.

However, while Batman didn’t kill, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t cripple you—broken limbs, brain damage, paralysis, and so on.

In the eyes of many criminals, this was a hundred times more terrifying than death.

Not only did they have to face extreme pain, but they also faced astronomical medical bills. Eventually, unable to pay, they would trigger some unspeakable threshold and gradually disappear from the public eye. No one knew where they went.

Because of this, Gotham’s criminals feared Batman so much that many even developed ’bat phobia,’ their legs turning to jelly at the sight of a bat’s shadow.

It could be said that those who dared to be criminals in Gotham were the toughest of the tough.

Batman was always elusive; except for Gordon, almost no one could contact him directly.

However, his appearances followed a pattern: mostly late at night, which was when criminals were most active.

After listening, Darian suddenly remarked, "I bet this Batman must be a rich guy."

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Darian analyzed, "Think about it. He’s out every night, even into the early hours. He barely has time to sleep. If he were an average salaryman, he’d have to work during the day. How could he have that much energy? Only a rich person who doesn’t have to work during the day could play like that."

"That actually sounds like it makes sense."

Harvey took it to heart and actually began to think about who in Gotham City fit that description.

Just as a certain playboy appeared in his mind, the car radio suddenly crackled, and the dispatcher’s voice came through.

"Near the intersection of 5th Avenue and Port Road in the East End, a resident has reported a violent incident. Nearby units, please proceed to confirm."

Harvey picked up the radio and pressed the talk button. "Copy that. We’re on our way."

He stubbed out his cigar, glanced at Darian, and grinned. "Rookie, you’re in luck. Catching a scene like this on your first day of work."

With those words, the Police car suddenly accelerated toward the reported location.

In less than ten minutes, the car turned into an old residential area.

Still some distance from the destination, Harvey turned to Darian. "Is your sidearm ready?"

"Ready."

Darian nodded and pulled out a Golden Desert Eagle from his clothes.

(°—

Harvey stared at the gun, his eyes bulging.

He froze for several seconds before speaking. "Did you take dirty money, kid? No, wait, today’s your first day. Where would you get dirty money?"

Darian replied casually, "I bought this with the money I saved during my six months in the Penguin Gang."

"The Penguin Gang pays that well?"

Harvey looked envious.

Had he known that job was so lucrative, he would have applied for undercover work too.

He quickly refocused and said seriously, "Follow my lead later. If things don’t look right, don’t hesitate—open fire immediately."

"Understood."

Darian nodded earnestly.

Harvey turned off the engine and pushed open the door. Darian followed.

They walked into an alley and soon spotted several figures.

Deep in the alley, a man was kneeling on the ground, his hands tied behind his back. His face was covered in blood, making his original features unrecognizable.

Standing beside him were four or five burly men in black suits, all looking tough with guns tucked into their waistbands.

One of them was pressing the muzzle of a gun against the back of the kneeling man’s head, seemingly saying something.

As soon as Harvey saw the men in suits, his expression changed instantly.

"Damn it, why did we run into them?"

"Who are they?" Darian asked, surprised.

Harvey’s voice dropped, and he spoke rapidly. "They’re Black Mask’s people. The one in the lead is Baso, one of Black Mask’s top enforcers. He’s got a high status in the gang. I didn’t expect to run into him here."

Black Mask was also one of Gotham’s supervillains, similar to The Penguin, controlling a faction in Gotham.

Baso noticed people arriving at the alley entrance and turned around, an expression of surprise appearing on his face. "Well, if it isn’t our very own Officer Harvey Bullock of the Gotham City Police Department. Who called you over?"

He laughed relaxedly, not showing the slightest fear of Harvey’s status. He didn’t even lower his pistol, clearly showing no respect for Harvey.

Hearing the word ’Police,’ the man on the ground struggled to raise his head, only to be slapped back down by a burly man nearby.

Baso glanced at the person on the ground, then back at Harvey with a smile. "Officer Harvey, you’ve come at just the right time. I’m handling some private business here; it’ll be over in a moment. If you’re not in a hurry, why don’t you wait a bit?"

His attitude was incredibly arrogant, not at all like he was talking to a cop, but more like he was brushing off a bystander.

Harvey’s face darkened. "Baso, what are you doing?"

"Just doing some business for the boss, cleaning up someone who didn’t follow the rules. Why? Does Officer Harvey want to interfere?"

Baso sneered, his tone carrying an undisguised threat. "You’re a smart man. You should know what happens to people who cross us, right?"

The other men in suits simultaneously placed their hands on the guns at their waists, staring at Darian and Harvey with hostile eyes.

The atmosphere in the alley suddenly grew tense.

Harvey frowned.

Baso was Black Mask’s top lackey, a gang leader. Provoking him was not a good idea.

Especially since there were only two of them, Darian and himself, while the other side had so many. If a conflict broke out, they would surely come out on the losing end.

Seeing Harvey like this, Baso laughed even more insolently. "Harvey, we’re old acquaintances. I’ll give you some face. Turn around and leave now, and I’ll act like I never saw you."

Harvey hesitated for a few seconds, gritted his teeth, and decided to take a step back for now and wait for backup.

He turned his head and gave Darian a signal.

Darian nodded, indicating he understood.

Bang!

The gunshot exploded in the alley, making everyone’s ears ring.

The smile on Baso’s face froze.

He looked down at his heart, where a bullet hole was gushing blood, rapidly staining his dark gray suit red.

Baso opened his mouth to say something, but only a few muffled gasps came out.

Then, his body swayed and he collapsed headfirst onto the ground.

A generation’s gang leader had just kicked the bucket.

Everyone: "...."

Harvey’s mind went blank. His lips moved for a while before he finally choked out, "You... you shot him dead?"

Darian was stunned. "Huh? Weren’t you signaling me to open fire immediately?"

Harvey was on the verge of tears. "That signal was for you to f*cking retreat! Retreat!"

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