Gotham is a bustling city, unlike the affluent yet decadent cities that cannot give birth to such flowers of sin. Therefore, despite its terrifying and chaotic evil side, it is still irresistible due to its deadly beauty.
People revel in Gotham, people fight in Gotham, people die in Gotham. Don't they feel proud of this ever-changing and dazzling city?
If you drive to the right spot, you can see Wayne Tower—a Gotham marvel arrogantly overlooking the entire city with its "W." If you're lucky enough, you might even pierce through the pile of thunderclouds and thick fog to see the black bat projected alongside that enormous "W," overlooking everything. This city is marked everywhere, with question marks, smiles, vines... Countless madmen and martyrs fight to the death here, spreading fear, fanaticism, and faith. Every day, countless positions are crushed, viewpoints are shattered, evil, or justice is defeated.
They fight for her, but no one can truly tame her.
They parked the car on the street and walked through a small open garden. Dick pressed the doorbell of this standalone small building. It looked like a 19th-century structure, with gray brick walls covered in emerald vines, faintly shining in the darkness. Warm yellow light seeped through the ebony window frames, giving a comforting feeling.
Despite its age, it hadn't become dilapidated. When a silver-haired lady opened the door for them, Baia was immediately captivated by its elegance and delicacy.
The lady wasn't tall, her white hair neatly tied up, her face no longer youthful but still elegant, showing how radiant she must have been in her younger days. She still wore a pair of silver pearl earrings on her earlobes, not looking out of place and perfectly complementing her demeanor.
"Hello," she said, her gaze first lingering on Dick for a moment before shifting to Baia. "Is this Miss Paola?"
The hostess welcomed them into the house.
"Hello, I'm Richard Grayson from the Blüdhaven Police Department," Dick said, flashing a smile.
"Hudson," the hostess said, raising her eyebrows slightly upon hearing his introduction.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Hudson," Dick said, then glanced at Baia, who was engrossed in solving the cookies on the table, showing no intention of explaining herself, "Baia seems to have forgotten some things. Maybe you can provide some clues?"
Mrs. Hudson looked at Baia upon hearing this and sighed, "Poor child."
"But I'm afraid I can't help much," Mrs. Hudson said. "After all, this afternoon, Miss Baia rented my second floor through email, which is a bit strange for a tenant, isn't it? But at least she's a straightforward tenant."
Dick couldn't help but furrow his brows slightly. Wasn't Baia asleep at her desk this afternoon?
However, Baia seemed to take this news quite well. She blinked, "How long did I rent it for?"
Mrs. Hudson said gently, "Three months, a total of nine thousand dollars."
It's too close to the downtown area, Dick thought. But Baia just felt it was a bit expensive.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Mrs. Hudson said she would take good care of Baia. Dick and Paola went to see the second floor together, which wasn't particularly large but was comfortably furnished and equipped with all the necessities for living, so there shouldn't be any problems in the short term.
"Would I be kicked out if I sold some of the stuff here?" Baia said thoughtfully.
While she liked the feeling this house gave her, she couldn't feel any joy because of the uncertain future and an inherent habit of frugality. She didn't think her family was particularly wealthy before she lost her memory.
Dick considered for a moment. "Better not." He heard the girl muttering something under her breath, seemingly complaining softly, which made him smile.
"Well... Can you lend me some money?" Baia's voice lowered a bit, seeming a bit embarrassed. "I'll pay you back as soon as I have the money."
It seemed that he had to be the good guy to the end. Dick reached for his wallet, took out some banknotes, and put them on the bookshelf.
"Thank you," she sighed in relief.
This place felt too much like home, Paola thought. This was what she needed right now, something to ground her, to escape from the unreal, a place to feel safe.
They walked downstairs side by side.
"Dick," Paola said. "Since you've found a good place for yourself, I guess I should go. Back... um, back to Blüdhaven."
"Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Grayson," Baia said.
The black-haired youth squatted down, neatly placing a note with his phone number, name, and the address of this place into her pocket, then looked into her eyes and smiled. "No one will think you're a trouble. If something like today happens again, or if you remember something, or if you encounter a problem you can't solve on your own, call me."
The girl nodded seriously, her body leaning forward slightly, showing an obvious hesitant expression. She wasn't sure if Grayson still wanted this now.
Fortunately, Dick knew what she needed, so he gave her a reassuring hug.
"Take care of yourself."
"Mm."
"Don't go out when it's dark."
"Mm."
"Go back, I'll watch you until you're upstairs," Baia took three steps back into the house, then suddenly stopped, turned around. "Mr. Grayson!"
Her mint-colored eyes gleamed in the light.
"Goodnight."
"Yeah, goodnight," Dick's voice carried a smile.
After bidding farewell to Dick, Baia explored her "new home" upstairs.
The bathroom was connected to the bedroom, and there was a fairly large bathtub. The wooden bed was light brown and looked very stylish; the semi-open study used an old bookshelf as a partition to separate the bedroom from it, with an armchair placed diagonally in front of the desk, warm-toned lighting making it look more like a part of an ancient library than a workspace. Baia tiptoed around and found that most of the books were novels, with some biographies and travelogues.
Just a blanket short, Baia thought. She would love to stay here in the winter.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth, combed her long and beautiful hair in front of the dressing mirror, jumped on the bed, stared blankly at the shadows of the trees outside the window for a while, and remembered the voice she heard earlier in Mr. Grayson's car.
A slightly mechanical voice.
What could it be? Was it an illusion—yet, after that voice disappeared, the chaotic feeling of being unable to concentrate disappeared too. In such confusion, she gradually fell into a dream.
But this dream seemed a bit off. In front of her appeared... a lottery interface with ten neatly arranged cards?
Host.
She heard a voice.
Do you have time to listen to me now?
The voice sounded a bit resentful.
"In the police station, the voice that told me the address was you," Baia stood in a dark void, puzzled, "Who are you?"
I am the system.
It paused.
I'm here to help you survive in Gotham by completing tasks.
"I see. So if I don't complete the tasks you mentioned," the girl pondered, "you'll kill me?"
...No, but this is Gotham. If you don't strive to get stronger, you really will die. The system fell silent for a moment.
Paola said, "I understand. You mean if I move out in time, I won't die."
Why does the host always understand at some strange points...! The system complained, feeling more anxious.
Baia asked again, "Did you erase my memories?"
The system felt guilty but also a bit aggrieved: This part... mainly because the host's mental strength was too weak, I had to clear the cache to successfully bind. But some memories had to be blocked, and the rest were just unimportant things... Don't be angry, you know how hard it is for me? I'm binding myself while giving you a last-minute save! It's not easy for me either!
It sensed the suppressed anger beneath Baia's calm exterior, so it quickly stopped complaining and changed the subject: Why think about things you don't have? Let's draw the newbie welfare!
The ten cards in front of Baia flashed in coordination.
The system thought Paola was going to explode, but she just took a deep breath and said, "Okay."
The system: ...Why do I feel more panicked now?
Baia reached out and randomly picked a card, and that card turned into golden light spots and dissipated.
The system: Ah, Golden Oriole. I didn't expect the host to be such a host?
Baia asked, "Why 'Golden Oriole'?"
The system replied: The descriptions, names, and effects of these skills are actually tailored to the host's subconscious. Ask yourself.
Baia stared at the skill description of [Golden Oriole] in front of her, lost in thought.
[Golden Oriole]: Remove general poisoning, bleeding, or curse negative effects from friendly targets, and restore a small amount of health.
The system explained: Specifically in Gotham, Golden Oriole can dispel most chemical toxins, including Scarecrow's fear gas, Poison Ivy's spores, and states of continuous bleeding, and so on.
Baia said inexplicably, "Who are these people you're talking about?"
The system: They are all outstanding talents in Gotham City, and you will know soon enough.
They sound like not-so-good people, the girl sighed.
After asking the system some questions, Baia basically understood the reward mechanism of this system: completing tasks would reward a certain amount of skill points, and skill points could be used to learn skills that she hadn't learned yet. As for what skills there were, according to the system, it mainly depended on the host's subconscious.
Except for Golden Oriole, there were only two skills in front of Baia waiting to be lit up.
All of them were healing skills.
As for other functions, Paola needed to complete more tasks to unlock them.
Listening to the system boast about the unlocked functions, Baia remained silent for a long time before commenting, "Fishing software."
The system: ??? When did I go fishing?