socalfunplaces Chapter 21 The Dark Figure
Chapter 21 The Dark Figure
After waiting for the other end of the call to hang up, Marshall put away his phone and returned to the lobby.
For convenience, and also because there isn't enough budget to build separate offices, GCPD officers mostly work in the lobby. The lobby contains several office chairs and dozens of workstations.
Police officers moved about among them. The main gate faced the innermost wall, where there were two huge square cages, always filled with people. They were either drug addicts high on drugs or gangsters forcibly detained; there was never a vacancy.
There wasn't much of a formality about their workstations; his and Harvey Block's seats were in the corner. When he came in, the other person was idly chatting with the people around him.
Marshall waved to him, walked over, and put his arm around Brock's shoulder. "Do you remember that Asian guy we arrested before?"
Harvey Block was startled, but feigned surprise. "What's wrong?"
"We have to catch that guy."
Marshall didn't notice anything unusual on Brock's face. He turned his gaze away, knowing that this matter was probably not related to the other party.
He was the one who tried to drag Brock down, and he was also the one who arrested the man and sent him to Arkham.
Marshall dared not disobey Falcone's orders in the slightest. He found the detective in charge of the Arkham Asylum case and asked for the case back. The investigation lasted until dark.
Even after leaving the police station, he was still figuring out how to handle the situation.
Gotham is a big city, and although its crime and corruption rates are high, the problem is universal; other cities aren't much better.
Compared to these insignificant shortcomings, her prosperity is like a small lamp hanging above the head of an anglerfish, constantly luring foreign businesses and people to pour in from the dark depths of the sea.
Asians are not uncommon in Gotham, and there are many homeless people of unknown identity. Trying to find someone without any clues is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
If all else fails, we'll have to find a way to issue an arrest warrant.
Marshall drove out of the police station, and around this time, officers who were off duty began to drive out one after another, heading in various directions—the Upper West Side, the Diamond District, the City Hall area…
He headed south to the old town, where there were fewer police patrols and the roads were darker compared to other areas.
Even the number of homeless people sprawled on the roadside was less than in other places—as long as they weren't going to commit crimes, even homeless people knew that it was safer to go to places with more people and police officers at night.
A couple of days ago, a homeless man was beaten to death while he was sleeping. The GCPD officers came by briefly, but nobody took it seriously.
They're just homeless people; it's common for them to be beaten to death, or to freeze or starve to death.
Marshall disliked this place; it was dirty and chaotic. He was born and raised here, and the longer he stayed, the more he loathed it. Especially when he saw his colleagues driving off in different directions after get off work.
In fact, with his income level, he could have moved out of the old city to live in other decent areas long ago, but he was unwilling to settle for less and insisted on going to the diamond district.
By working for Falcone and earning commissions from bringing people into Arkham, he had saved up a considerable sum of money, picked out a house in the Diamond District, and made all the necessary preparations to buy a home.
If all goes well, we should be able to move there next month.
Marshall was initially in a good mood because of this, but then a thorny problem arose at Arkham Asylum, which made him anxious.
After changing lanes at the traffic lights, the car entered the old town area completely.
After dark, few shops dare to stay open. Without the lights from the buildings and shops, the surrounding area becomes dim, with only the streetlights shining from a distance.
Perhaps because of the murder, there weren't many people along the way. Even those who were there were mostly groups of teenagers, and whether they were under the influence of marijuana or alcohol, most of them had wide, staring eyes.
Marshall didn't take it seriously. When he saw a dark shadow in the rearview mirror, he simply turned the car music up to the maximum volume, since the lighting was dim and he couldn't see anything clearly.
After a while, he noticed that the dark figure in the rearview mirror was still there.
"What the hell?"
Marshall frowned, recalling the expressions of the people he had met on the road earlier, and a sense of unease crept into his heart.
Did those people see something?
Bah! How could that be!
Marshall forced himself to suppress the thought, telling himself it should be a motorcycle, no big deal.
But he still turned down the music, stepped on the gas and sped up, his attention involuntarily drawn to the dark figure.
The dark figure was quickly left behind, the rearview mirror was empty, and Marshall breathed a sigh of relief, laughing at himself for being paranoid.
Just kidding, if ghosts really existed, wouldn't Gotham be overrun with them?
Why would he care about the reactions of those delusional idiots?
Marshall had just relaxed when he noticed that the needle on the fuel gauge was turning to the left at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"grass!"
Marshall swore; he had just filled up his gas tank not long ago. Having been a police officer for so many years, how could he not know there was something wrong with the car?
He was about to stop and check the car when he caught a glimpse of the other side mirror out of the corner of his eye. Seeing the reflection in the mirror, his hair stood on end.
A dark shadow was hovering silently not far behind the car, and it was much closer than it had been seen before!
This time Marshall could see his outline clearly.
It was a dark figure!
Who could possibly chase after a car?!
Ignoring everything else, Marshall, sweat beading on his forehead, slammed on the gas pedal, and the car sped down the road.
Gasoline dripped all the way, the fuel gauge needle was approaching the red line, and it was clear that the remaining fuel would not be enough to get the car home. The dark shadow following behind the car was still hanging there, seemingly close yet distant.
Marshall made up his mind, turned off the engine, and parked the car on the side of the road.
He drew his gun from his waist, took a deep breath, and while placing his hand on the handlebars, glanced at the rearview mirror.
The main road was empty; there was nothing there.
He took a breath, gripped the gun tightly with both hands, turned his head left and right, and scanned his surroundings, alert to any movement around him.
The dark stain on the road stretched for quite a while, and its source was traced back to the fuel tank under the car.
Marshall, gun in one hand, crouched down to examine the fuel tank and, sure enough, it had been tampered with.
There was a small, barely noticeable hole punched in it.
Just as he was about to stand up, he noticed something floating behind him.
"Bang!"
Marshall saw everything clearly in the instant he was knocked unconscious by the impact to the back of his head, which made his vision go black.
The black robe did not touch the ground...
A figure draped in a black robe landed on the ground, lifting the hood to reveal a bamboo strip on top of his head that was gradually coming to a stop spinning.
The joint between the two bamboo strips is connected to the pole, and the joint is attached to Zheng En's head.
He was able to follow Marshall's car all the way by using the bamboo dragonfly he drew from the card pool.
Fearing that the scene of him chasing the car with his bare hands would be too shocking and bring him unnecessary trouble, he bought a black robe from a random shop beforehand to cover his face.
Although it seems to have shocked the worldview of those around me.