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Chapter 3: No Man's Island
Downton had no idea that Bruce was observing him.
Or rather, even if he did, he wouldn't care.
After crossing the police blockade, Downton swaggered back to the place where he had just died.
Compared to before, the number of Russian gangsters had decreased significantly. Clearly, the Italian mob was about to win.
Downton didn't care who won or lost. Anyone holding a gun was his target.
Bang!
After taking down the nearest Russian, Downton picked up the gangster's handgun and continued his slaughter with two guns in hand.
Across from him, the Italian mob had already broken into the Russians' stronghold.
Seeing Downton take out a Russian, one of Falcone's men came over, flashing a savage smile.
"Nice work, getting behind the Dimitrov family like that. After this fight is over, we'll put in a good word for you with the boss."
"Screw you."
Without hesitation, Downton turned his gun on the Falcone man.
Bang!
Falcone's man died with wide eyes.
While his nearby companions were momentarily stunned, Downton emptied his magazine into the first group of Falcone's men who had rushed into the Russian territory.
Compared to last time, Downton's performance was much better this time—he took out five men in one go.
As Downton went on a random killing spree, both the Russians and Italians nearby were left speechless.
"What the hell, he's not one of us!"
"That guy's a lunatic!"
"Whose side is he on?"
"Take him down!"
"Federico's dead!"
"Screw it, he's done for, no one can save him!!!"
In an instant, Downton was bombarded with bullets, as both sides, in the heat of the battle, turned their guns on him.
In less than five seconds, Downton fell to the ground once again, his body dissolving into flames, adding a bit of warmth to Gotham's cold weather.
Moments later, breathing heavily, Downton stood up again, pistols in hand, glancing around.
Since his first death that morning, Downton had gained a new ability. Each time he died, he would reappear, completely unharmed, at a random location near where he had died.
The ability to return from death was a blessing, even if the random locations were a bit of a hassle. Downton didn't mind.
He walked straight toward two stiffened homeless men.
Seeing Downton approach, the two vagrants who had been huddling under the monorail for shelter and warmth immediately began to run.
As they bolted, Downton raised his gun toward the sky.
Bang!
"Stop right there!"
At the sound of the gunshot, the two homeless men halted in their tracks, quicker than lightning.
They turned around, hands raised, instinctively taking small steps backward while hurriedly saying to Downton:
"We didn't see anything!"
"Shut up! Where is this place? There's not even a taxi on the street."
Downton didn't approach them, but asked from a distance.
Hearing Downton's question, one of the homeless men answered:
"This is No Man's Island, the poorest place in Gotham. Nobody takes taxis here; anyone with enough money for a ride is considered a big shot. We're lucky to have garbage to eat here."
With that, the two vagrants exchanged a glance, then turned and fled in different directions.
Watching the vagrants flee, Downton pursed his lips.
"No Man's Island, huh? Arkham Asylum seems to be nearby. But without a taxi or private car, how am I supposed to get back to downtown Gotham?"
Downton holstered his gun and walked a few steps along the dilapidated road before heading into the rain along the tram tracks.
No Man's Island truly lived up to its reputation as Gotham's slum—there wasn't even a single person with an umbrella in the rain. And Downton's ragged clothes, which should have stood out, were normal attire here.
Everything was in ruins.
After walking for over five hundred meters, a car finally approached on the road.
Downton quickly rushed to the middle of the street, forcing the car to a halt.
Accompanied by the sound of tires screeching against the ground, the car door was violently thrown open.
"Are you blind, you idiot?!"
The driver cursed at Downton while reaching for a gun, but before he could pull it out, Downton had already pressed his gun to the man's head.
"Want an extra hole in your head?"
Downton shot back, using his other gun to point at the backseat.
"Get out!" he shouted to the figure sitting in the back.
"No problem, no need to shoot. You look like you're in a hurry. I don't mind giving you a ride."
The person in the back opened the car door and gave Downton a gentle smile. Then, turning to the driver with the gun to his throat, the passenger waved.
"Anthony, put the gun away. We won't get hurt. This gentleman is in a hurry, and we should be understanding. How about we give him a ride?"
Turning to Downton, the man nodded slightly.
"Life on No Man's Island is tough. As someone who works around here, I fully understand your struggles. Trust me, there's no need for violence—life should be about helping each other. You can call me Jonathan. I work over at the asylum nearby. You might have heard of me."
After a pause, Jonathan added, "Well, I guess you haven't. Where are you headed? I'll have Anthony take you there."
With that, the ever-smiling Jonathan waved for Downton to sit beside him.
Downton, without hesitation, climbed into the back seat, his rain-soaked clothes wetting Jonathan's pants.
Jonathan didn't mind the dampness, instead offering a towel to Downton.
"Wipe off the water. You might feel better. I also have spare clothes, which I think you could use."
"Anthony, stop standing in the rain and get back in the car."
"Got it."
Anthony, clearly annoyed, nodded before returning to the driver's seat. As he shut the door, he glared at Downton.
"In this godforsaken city, I shouldn't have had any sympathy. I should've just run you over."
After grumbling, Anthony spat out the window.
"Where are you headed, you jerk? And it better not be far!"
"Downtown. Near the bus station."
"Downtown?"
Anthony turned around in surprise at Downton's words.
"There's a war going on there. You sure you want to go?"
"Just drive."
Downton pressed his gun to the back of Anthony's head.
Feeling the barrel, Anthony reluctantly nodded.
"Whatever you say. You're the boss today."
As Anthony started the car and drove off, Jonathan, seated next to Downton, couldn't help but ask quietly:
"Are you with Falcone, or the Russians? But how did you end up on No Man's Island? It's been almost an hour since the fighting broke out downtown. By the time you get there, the battle might be over."
With that, Jonathan took out a bottle of whiskey from a small fridge and poured a glass.
"Care for some? Gotham's rain is particularly cold. A glass of strong liquor might warm you up."
"No thanks. Shut up."
Downton knocked the glass out of Jonathan's hand with his gun, then pressed the barrel to Jonathan's chest.
Jonathan sighed and adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses with a bitter smile.
"Whiskey stains are harder to wash out than rainwater. What a pity for my pants."
"Shut up!"
Bang!
A bullet grazed Jonathan's chest, tearing through his suit, causing him to take a sharp breath.
"Okay, I'll be quiet. No need to get worked up, sir."
After that, Jonathan remained silent, and the car was quiet for the next half hour until it stopped near the battlefield.
Downton got out of the car, waving without looking back at Jonathan and Anthony.
Watching Downton's retreating figure, Anthony leaned toward Jonathan and whispered:
"BOSS, are we just letting him go?"
"Heh, just another one of Gotham's little surprises. Someone like him won't last long here."
Jonathan responded, then removed his torn suit and changed into a spare one.
Once dressed, he rolled down the window slightly, squinting at Downton's back.
"I'll have a word with Falcone. I don't know what his name is, but he'll pay for this suit."
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