After some casual conversation, Christina's family finally left the hospital room under the doctor's insistence. However, the next ones to push open the door were Commissioner James Gordon and his assistant officer, John Blake.
"I already said the patient needs rest. What you're doing violates—"
"We'll only take two minutes, Doctor, just a few questions and we're gone."
Commissioner Gordon approached the bedside, offering Liang a polite smile. "Don't be nervous, kid. We're not with immigration, so no need to worry about your residency papers—though I should tell you, Miss Jacqueline Harris has already used her family's connections to sort out all your documentation."
Liang blinked in confusion. "Uh… Jacqueline? Who's that?"
Gordon raised an eyebrow. "The second daughter of the Harris family, which controls three multinational banks. That young lady was with you in the sewer and carried you to the surface while you were unconscious. Don't you remember?"
Liang shook his head. "Sorry, I woke up here in the hospital and don't recall anything. Did you catch those clowns?"
Gordon exchanged a glance with Blake, then sighed. "Unfortunately, by the time we arrived, the clowns had vanished. Honestly, we still don't understand why the bomb detonated in the sewer…"
Hearing this, Liang secretly exhaled in relief, only for Gordon to add, "But we won't stop pursuing them. For now, all you need to do is rest and recover."
With that, the two officers nodded to the doctor and left the room, leaving Liang staring at the ceiling in thought.
This fight had been far too close. A mere human with combat skills had nearly brought him down. Without timely help, he might already be a rotting corpse in the sewers, accompanied by flies and rats.
The current world was full of threats capable of ending him. Even with his cultivation in The Human Immortal Acupuncture Technique, he remained stuck at the foundational stage due to the lack of spiritual energy.
The so-called "Foundation Establishment" was precisely about laying the groundwork for the path of cultivation. Just as a skyscraper requires a solid base, cultivation demanded refining one's essence and blood into spiritual energy, achieving the utmost tranquility and focus. Only when the sea of consciousness was full, the meridians completely unobstructed, and one's essence, energy, and spirit perfectly aligned, could one reach the Foundation Establishment stage.
If the required spiritual energy to achieve this stage were likened to 1,000 points, then Liang, ever since regaining memories of his past life, had only accumulated about 700 points. The path ahead remained long and arduous.
He needed better means of self-preservation. Forget those superpowered heroes and villains capable of flight and destruction—just a handful of well-trained armed agents, officers, or gangsters could end his life with ease.
His thoughts shifted, and he adjusted his position slightly, picking up the remote control on the cabinet to turn on the television opposite his bed.
Skipping through mundane talk shows and melodramatic soap operas, Liang switched to Gotham TV, which was broadcasting coverage of the city's port reconstruction project.
Since the clowns' plans had failed, the hostages and bank assets were safe, and their ultimate goal of sabotaging Gotham's port redevelopment was thwarted.
Liang understood all too well that others would soon step in to disrupt the process. Smuggling gangs, self-serving Gotham bureaucrats, and even ignorant citizens—they were like stubborn patients resisting the surgeon's scalpel meant to excise the malignant tumor that was Gotham's port.
But what did any of that have to do with him? No matter how chaotic things became, it was just dogs fighting dogs.
He let out a long breath, closed his eyes, and began practicing his breathing techniques, silently mending the microfractures and lingering clots in his left arm's blood vessels.
When he opened his eyes again, night had fallen. The smog spewing from old factory chimneys in Gotham cloaked the city like a fine mesh, scattering the city lights and obscuring the stars.
Liang sat up slightly, poured himself a glass of water, and spoke to the shadowed corner of the room. "If I didn't say anything, would you just stand there motionless forever?"
The silk curtains fluttered lightly, like a ballerina's graceful dance under the conductor's command.
From the corner emerged a dark cloak, and the armored knight hidden within the shadows rasped, "You killed them."
"Who?" Liang asked, feigning confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Batman's voice remained cold. "I examined the bullet marks on the sewer walls. There was an intense fight. Based on the trajectories, you attacked them from above, killing four with your bare hands. The last one—Bucky—was shot at close range by Jacqueline from another angle."
Although Liang had erased most of the evidence by scraping the walls, the surrounding cracks and marks were enough for Batman's supercomputer to reconstruct the trajectory of the bullets.
"That's impossible," Liang replied, shaking his plastered left arm. "I'm just an ordinary teenager with a broken arm. I was also injected with barbiturates and chlorzoxazone. Not even Captain America could fight under those conditions."
Batman stared into Liang's eyes and said coldly, "I retrieved the clowns' corpses from Gotham Harbor. The blunt-force trauma on their bodies matches the height of your strikes."
"That doesn't prove anything, does it?" Liang smiled faintly. "Without stronger evidence, this is all just your speculation."
Batman silently removed a flat, round audio device from his utility belt and pressed play.
"If you've ever looked at the 1920 Gotham sewer system map, you'd realize that our current location is at the sewer's coastal endpoint in the old district…"
It was Liang's voice, recorded in the sewers.
For a moment, his expression turned icy. He placed the glass of water back on the nightstand and folded his right hand behind his head, his mind racing to devise a countermeasure.
Where was Batman's surveillance device installed? Was it on him? On the clowns? Or was Jacqueline one of his operatives?
Suddenly, Liang looked up and said coldly, "Gotham is an ancient city, and its electrical grid is a relic of the last century. The system doesn't allow for remote control.
"For you to avoid being caught on surveillance cameras for so long, you must have a way to block the circuits—meaning you've infiltrated Gotham's grid at certain points, like vines wrapped around a tree, using junction boxes to siphon power.
"And if you've hacked into the public grid, you'd naturally install listening devices in those nodes. Let me guess: the surveillance device you used to record this audio was hidden in a control box above the sewer's domed ceiling, wasn't it?"