"But in reality, they wouldn't do that, if they had what Wayne has, they would only be worse. That's why this city doesn't need to be saved."
"I think I have enough now," the mail boy sighed, "So whether he's there or not, it doesn't matter."
"Don't you want to be as rich as Wayne?" Cobblepot asked.
"Of course, who doesn't, but we all know it's impossible. However, if I really did have as much money as him, I wouldn't give any of it away. I would keep it all for myself and not give a cent to anyone else."
"Yes, that's how we all think," Cobblepot replied, but then he looked at Batman and said, "But this billionaire thinks we are selfish villains, and he is the good guy."
"No kidding!" the mail boy gritted his teeth and said, "Not to mention being as rich as Wayne, even if I had a hundred dollars right now, I would hide it somewhere no one could find, only I could use it, and no one can take it away from me!"
"Have you ever had a hundred dollars?" Cobblepot asked.
"Of course not." The mail boy rolled his eyes and said, "I have two brothers and a sister, they would eat everything in sight, I already earn enough money, but they would eat it all, I don't even have ten cents on me right now."
"I can teach you a method to quickly make a hundred dollars, do you want to try?" Cobblepot asked again.
"Of course! Boss, tell me quickly, I knew it, listening to you could definitely make money, you're the smartest amongst us!" The mail boy eagerly said.
"Now, you run down there, get some black ash from the burnt pile of wood, smear it on your face and body, and sit there crying. Soon, you will see money floating towards you, the posh bloke won't skimp on this bit of money." Cobblepot sneered.
But suddenly, the mail boy hesitated, he stood there fidgeting for several seconds without moving, Cobblepot turned his head to look at him and asked, "Why aren't you going?"
"I don't want to beg." A trace of fear showed on the mail boy's face, he said, "Only those who are born disabled or children who are too young would do this kind of work, it's too terrible."
"But those 'parents' who abused the children have all been dealt with by me, what are you afraid of?" Cobblepot asked.
"No, it has nothing to do with that." The mail boy shook his head and said, "Unless they absolutely had to, Gotham's children wouldn't want to beg."
"Once you kneel on the ground and ask people for money, they will understand that you are a juicy piece of meat."
"They will know that you have already hit the wall, any move from them, you can't resist. As long as you kneel by the side of the road asking for money, it's like telling everyone 'I'm easy to bully.'
"That will send you into hell." The mail boy's voice started to tremble, he swallowed and continued, "I've seen... seen them being... I couldn't do that, no one wants to, anyone in Gotham can't show weakness, otherwise, we'll be devoured by devils."
"When we are powerful, we are one of the devils, we beat those weak mail gang kids, even make them bite the bullet, but we all know, once we become weak, we will also be beaten, so we always have to make ourselves fierce, once you kneel down to anyone, you're done for."
Mail boy swallowed again, he stuttered a bit, but Cobblepot said, "What do you want to say? Tell me."
The mail boy showed a somewhat fearful expression, though he was taller than Cobblepot, he hung his head and muttered, "Actually, we all knew when you took care of those moms and dads who exploited the begging children... they were probably done for."
"Because those 'parents' were not only bullying and abusing them, they were actually also protecting them. For the sake of the moms and dads, the people wouldn't overdo things, at least they wouldn't kill them, but without the leaders, even if they weren't killed, they would still starve to death."
"Where are they now?" Cobblepot asked.
"I'm not sure, they're too young, they don't play with us." The mailman boy glanced at Cobblepot out of fear and said, "But they should be alive, I didn't see their bodies on the garbage truck or the truck going out of the city."
"It's okay if you don't know, I do."
In the end, Cobblepot turned to look across the street, where the flames were about to go out. Batman's expensive gear was indeed powerful, but by now, it was worn and tattered.
Cobblepot left the building and entered an underground passage through a side door of the underground parking lot. The pitch-black passage had no light at all, which made the mailman boy shiver. He wasn't afraid of people, but he feared ghosts.
Through the passage, he arrived at another underground parking lot, exited through a door, passed through a dark and narrow alley to enter a cellar, and then a winding path led to an abandoned basement.
Because of his job, the mailman boy had an excellent sense of direction. He said, "This seems to be the bar owned by Old Robert? Is it the basement of the bar?"
"Yes, it is. Can you smell the liquor?" Cobblepot looked up at the ceiling where some rainwater was seeping through. He said, "The redhead, because it leaks here, he stopped using it."
The mailman boy saw many kids, much younger than him, as soon as he pushed open the basement door.
Many of the children were probably six or seven years old. Each of them was thin and small, their skin rough and darkened, obviously from exposure to the elements and lack of enough food.
At that moment, they were wolfing down big loaves of bread. Even though they were eating quickly, they were orderly. A black man in a red jacket, about the same age as Cobblepot, was handing out the bread.
"Oh, Cobblepot, you're here. Today's bread has been distributed. Do you want a piece?" The black man approached and smiled.
Cobblepot shook his head, looked up at him and said, "Red Truck? Why are you here? Where's Tire?"
"He went to help his mom, so I came instead." After saying this, Red Truck looked back at the children.
Everyone was eating heartily, the only sound in the room was that of the children eating. These kids barely ever made a fuss; perhaps they didn't even have the strength to raise their voices.
Years of hunger had left most of the children severely malnourished. Many of them bore marks of abuse. Some were even disabled, missing fingers or toes, and some even had difficulty walking.
"Alright, have we all finished eating? In a bit, someone will come to examine you. Sit tight. Now, I'm going to give you names so that the doctor can distinguish you later..."
"Those of you who have names, line up over there. Those who don't, stay here and queue up. Remember the pronunciation I tell you. If anyone can't tell me their name later, they won't get any bread next time."
Red Truck finished speaking, and all the children fell silent, separating into two lines. They were neither noisy nor disruptive, merely lowered their heads and did as instructed.
After a while, the basement door clanged a couple of times, which caused many of the children to start shaking.
The first thing to enter was an umbrella, a black umbrella. It pushed open the basement door, and rainwater flowed from the tip of the umbrella onto the door and then silently fell to the floor.
Black shoes stepped on the damp cement floor, making "da da" sounds. Just as all the children's hearts rose into their throats, the person who appeared beyond the door was a professor in a black suit.
He cleared his throat, about to speak when suddenly he turned and said to the person behind him:
"Why do I smell a burnt smell on you? What have you been doing, Batman?"