Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

The person with the gun burst in only to find the house already empty. His target, that damned red-haired girl, had somehow been rescued by someone. The other party was too agile; he didn't even catch a glimpse of a shadow.

The television in the living room was broadcasting the news. Featured on the screen was the horribly beaten face of Bo'er. But there was also a video playing.

From a first-person perspective, two fists swung left and right, pounding Bo'er's face until his skull was shattered, his brain matter splattered out.

At first, Bo'er was still able to scream wretchedly, but as time passed, only meaningless twitching remained, before finally falling completely silent.

Without a doubt, this was a brutal killing.

The young man who killed Bo'er was well-trained, not only very strong but also skilled in throwing punches. His identity was soon revealed. He was an underground fighter, named Hick.

Hick's life story was also simple. Orphaned, relying only on his sister for support. He did fairly well in his studies, but he had to drop out of high school to fight in underground matches because of an incident involving his sister.

It seemed she had been in an accident, completely paralyzed and bedbound. For some reason, she didn't receive insurance compensation, so he had to fight in the underground ring to earn money for her medical expenses.

A very typical member of Gotham's lower class, who should have died quietly on some rainy night, just another unfortunate soul.

But no, he showed up at the mansion near the steel industry tycoon Bo'er's villa, and with those powerful fists, crushed his skull, killing him alive.

Moreover, he recorded the whole thing and gave the footage to a television station that broadcasted it.

In a dark and narrow basement, Fiona watched the entire video. She clenched her fists and said, "So this was premeditated, he used me."

Catwoman handed her a cup of hot coffee and then said, "Why couldn't it be that he had a personal vendetta against Bo'er, and took the opportunity to take revenge?"

Fiona pursed her lips and said, "I promised Mr. Mayor that I wouldn't kill anyone. I think he's a good man, and I should keep my promise."

"Yes, you should have. But those people who broke into your house, they probably didn't come to have a nice chat, did they?"

"Alright, they wanted to kill me, and I killed them. I was just defending myself," Fiona took a deep breath.

Catwoman sized up the girl in front of her; she indeed seemed very young, but after all, she was only 15 years old. Moreover, her father had protected her well enough that just witnessing a murder had shaken her somewhat.

This made Catwoman question Shiller's decision. Could this girl really be the key figure?

But she didn't say much more, just watched Fiona drink her coffee and asked, "Are you close with the mayor?"

"He was willing to help vindicate my father. He's the only one willing to do that. He tried his best. I'm grateful to him."

"And what about him toward you?"

"I know he feels guilty," Fiona took another deep breath and said, "It seems like he blames himself for my father Willie's death, but I know it's not true. It has nothing to do with him. It was my father's choice."

"Have you ever thought of using that guilt?"

"What do you mean?"

"They want to kill you," Catwoman repeated, "They have to kill you because you are the descendant of a hero. They will soon realize that your father Willie's death was just the beginning. It was he who gave the people the courage to rebel."

"To completely eliminate that courage, they will try to eliminate you or force you to submit to them, using dirty tricks to shake the people's hope."

"I won't submit to them!" Fiona said firmly.

"Some things are not as simple as you think," Catwoman said, "There have also been those who stood up in the past, what was the outcome for them?"

Fiona quickly recalled some stories her father had told her, which had long been the source of her nightmares. She couldn't help but shudder but still said while holding her coffee, "If I can't live like a hero, at least I can die like my father did."

Only then did Catwoman see her in a new light. But recalling the things Shiller had instructed, she still tapped on the table and said, "You must live, Miss. Because not just the Upper Class, the common people will also come to realize that your father has started a great journey."

"As the heir to your father's legacy, you are an important symbol of spirit. If you fall easily, it will be the sorrow of your loved ones, and the joy of your enemies."

"What do you think I should do?" Fiona asked with somewhat rapid breathing. She felt exhilarated but also nervous.

"Use your relationship with the mayor to persuade him to help you," Catwoman leaned in a bit closer, squatting down to look up at Fiona, "Your strength is already minimal, you must seize every possibility. Not just for yourself, but for your father."

Fiona's grip on her coffee cup tightened. She absentmindedly took a sip.

At that moment, Catwoman dropped another bombshell.

"I know who instructed the gunman to kill your father."

Fiona immediately stared intently at her.

"But you can't go after him, you know why?"

"Because I can't protect myself?"

Catwoman looked up at her and said, "What if the killer was also on your father's side?"

"What did you say?"

"I mean, if one day you find the murderer who killed your father, and you realize that your father was right, that he decided to help you, what would you do?"

"I... I don't know..." Fiona shook her head in confusion and said, "He assassinated my father, he must be a despicable wretch. How could he possibly support my father? Maybe..."

"Do you know what your father would do?"

Fiona fell silent. She mechanically took a sip of her coffee and then said, "He once told me that the poor always vent too much anger on their peers. But that's just bullying the weak. What he wanted to do was win with weakness."

Fiona's lips were tightly pressed against the coffee cup, and his tone seemed somewhat vague, "He told me to look up whenever I felt angry. I never understood what it meant. But now I think I get it a little bit."

Catwoman stood up, crossed her arms, and looked at him, "You've done very well, but you're not learning fast enough. You don't have much time left."

The coffee cup Fiona had put down made a soft clang as it collided with the table. He stood up and then said, "I'm going to City Hall. I'm going to see the mayor."

When Ms. Weiss escorted Fiona to the door of the mayor's office, he caught a glimpse of Gordon's figure. He closed his eyes in pain and his steps faltered.

But when he turned his head, he saw Ms. Weiss's smiling face.

"Don't be afraid, miss. Mr. Napier is the best mayor we've ever had."

Fiona clenched his fists, knocked on the door, and then he walked in. Gordon's gaze immediately locked tightly on him.

"Someone wants to kill me," Fiona said.

The Pale Knight sitting in the office chair sprang to his feet and hurried over to Fiona, asking, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"No, someone saved me," Fiona calmed down a bit, then said, "I'm to blame for what happened with Bo'er, I was too impulsive. But I really didn't intend to kill anyone. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you."

The Pale Knight looked at him and said, "I know you meant well, miss. No need to dwell on it any further now."

Fiona recalled what Catwoman had said, he pinched his clothes' hem and lowered his head as he said, "I dreamed about my father yesterday, I thought of something he used to say to me. I feel that I should follow in his footsteps and do more for the ordinary people."

"When I heard about the death match, I was furious. That's why I rushed over without thinking when I received Bo'er's clue. I just wanted to help you all."

The expression on the Pale Knight's face visibly softened. Gordon was truly at a loss for words. He walked over with heavy steps and said to Fiona, "You might have meant well, but the situation is getting worse and worse."

"Can you tell me what exactly is going on?" Fiona asked.

"Bo'er's death has struck deep fear into them. They've chosen to take extreme measures..."

"Like what?"

"If you can't control the criminals, then create criminals," Gordon turned around and said, "Within two hours of Bo'er's death, the supermarket explosion, the bank carnage, the serial killings... Never before had so many violent crimes erupted simultaneously. Many people died."

Gordon covered half of his face with his hand. Fiona had already pictured the horror, and he said, "Then it seems we can only choose to fight to the end. Sir, I'm only 15 years old. I don't want to die. How about you?"

Gordon's fingertips trembled slightly. He was not afraid of dying, but he had a daughter not much older than Fiona, whom he had promised her mother to take good care of.

Moreover, those who died in the carnage died because he had failed to catch the culprits in one go. He had to take responsibility for their deaths. Most importantly, more people couldn't die.

Police do not have the authority to kill, but he was driven into a dead end. He had no other choice.

Gordon didn't know how he managed to walk out of City Hall. When he returned to the police station, he saw a black limousine parked at the entrance.

As soon as he entered the police station lobby, he saw a man in a suit strutting out under the lead of others.

That was one of the few culprits he had caught. A slow-reacting and stupid rich kid, but two officers were sacrificed to catch him. One was only 18 years old, fresh out of the police academy.

This rich kid deliberately bumped into Gordon, shook his head, and said, "I already told you, I would get out soon. You just wait, once I tell my dad, you're dead!"

"I heard you have a daughter. If you don't want to lose your job as the chief, then let her personally come to apologize to me. Maybe out of respect for her, my dad will leave you a job as an ordinary cop. Or you can also come apply to be a security guard at my home when you can't pay off your credit card, haha."

After saying that, he patted Gordon on the shoulder and walked out of the police station door under everyone's gaze.

In the moment he heard the sound of the car starting, Gordon felt something snap in his mind.

He paused for only a second, then picked up the keys to the police car from a nearby table, and walked out the back door of the station.

Half an hour later, Gordon stood on the edge of Gotham Bridge. He took off his hat with trembling hands and exhaled sharply.

The misty dawn light was ahead, the bustling traffic behind, dark clouds above, and steel beneath.

Every fiber of his being woven into his skin, each movement stirred countless ripples. The police badge in his chest fused into his lungs, each breath exhaled scattering sparks. His boots dug into the ground, each step rooted with ironclad resolution.

A cold fog rose from the Gotham River, and the rear half of the luxury car gradually sank into the water, like a mountain swallowed by the abyss.

When he stared into the abyss, the abyss also stared back at him.

Gordon saw Shiller standing on the riverbank. Shiller was also looking up at him.

Shiller's lips moved, Gordon couldn't hear his voice. But he heard it again, the voice from deep within his own heart.

"I witnessed everything, you have no other choice, James Gordon."