Shane Freak
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Chapter 785: Fatal Joke (Part Twelve)
🕑 Added 2023-12-04 12:26:23 +0000 UTCIn DC World With Marvel Chat Group : Table of Content/Chapter List
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Bruce left, perhaps because the strong man saw the gun in his hand, he didn't bother to pursue.
Driving the almost falling-apart truck, biting into tasteless bread, Bruce felt a sense of relief. Being broke is better than being in debt; at least the consequence of having no money now is just hunger. If he had really owed a high-interest loan from the gang, things would be troublesome.
He deeply realized that he was no longer the invincible Batman who could move heaven and earth. His current state was terrible, the worst he had ever been in his life.
Days of insufficient meals had depleted a significant amount of energy. He had lost at least ten pounds, the cold had improved, but his throat continued to ache, turning into bronchitis perhaps. His stomach still couldn't adapt to the local diet, leading to occasional bouts of diarrhea.
In this situation, Bruce couldn't afford to engage with the strong gang members. He couldn't accept the consequences of losing a fight to them. Back when he was Batman, if he hadn't fought the gang members, he might end up like the early days of being Batman – lime thrown in his eyes, falling from the cage, and landing in a trash can. The result would be a somewhat embarrassed return to Wayne Manor, cleaning the expensive suit, dressing wounds, checking his eyes, applying eye drops, and then resting upstairs.
But now, if he got beaten up by gang members, falling from a rooftop, aside from the possible risks of fractures or organ rupture, just the result of sprained hands and feet would be unacceptable, as it would mean he couldn't drive.
No driving meant no earning money, no money meant no food, no food meant becoming weaker, and more weakness meant easier bullying. Easier bullying meant a higher risk of getting hurt, and getting hurt meant earning even less money...
Bruce now understood why the supervisor said that people who entered the canned food area never came out. Because once you entered this river of poverty, you couldn't swim against the current. Everything would slide irreversibly toward an abyss, falling off a waterfall and shattering into pieces at some point.
Fortunately, over the next few days, Bruce's luck improved. He led a somewhat stable life, saved a few dozen US dollars, and made some friends in the truck driver group.
Gradually understanding the rules here, he finally had a meal to eat. During this time, an old master from the truck group approached Bruce and invited him to join some activities over the weekend.
Before this, Bruce had participated in activities with other truck drivers, mainly finding a good barbecue restaurant to eat or taking group orders to earn money together. Bruce was currently focused on making money, not interested in leisure. However, the old truck driver was the leader of another small group. This group had a route for transporting fresh produce outside the city, a lucrative job compared to transporting regular goods. Bruce decided to join him and see if he could meet people from the farms outside the city.
The old master took Bruce to a nightclub. Bruce no longer had the luxury to replace beer with ginger juice, so he drank some. Fortunately, his tolerance was better than average, and he didn't feel drunk.
After a few rounds of drinks and food, the main event was about to begin. Several girls leaned in, but the strong smell of their cheap perfume made Bruce nauseous.
While others were having a great time, Bruce, downgraded due to financial struggles, couldn't maintain a cheerful expression.
These girls, compared to the glamorous socialites Bruce used to encounter or even the ordinary waitresses in the restaurants he frequented, lacked charm.
Bruce pretended to have a stomachache and rushed to the toilet to throw up. The girls didn't like hanging out with a young guy like him who they knew had no money. The older truck drivers, although unscrupulous, were more generous.
Like Bruce, other young people who were here for the first time were being courted. They enjoyed the attention and were even willing to spend money on drinks for these girls.
Bruce, acting as if he had gastroenteritis, left the scene, and after a while, he saw these people entering a small alley. Each person went with someone, and they all got into their respective trucks.
Bruce, who went back alone, didn't feel sad. He just felt a sense of relief from escaping death. He believed that breathing the same air as these people for one more second would make him sick.
The next morning, the refreshed old master found Bruce again, feeling sorry that he couldn't entertain him properly the day before. He invited Bruce to join again, and this time the leader of the small group Bruce was in also decided to go. Bruce had no choice but to follow along.
Fortunately, there were no girls this time. About a dozen people had a few rounds of drinks, cleared the tables, and started playing cards.
Two people faced off, with over a dozen people betting. The atmosphere heated up, and the money earned through a hard day's drive was tossed onto the table with a flick of the hand. If someone wanted to pick it up again, they would face the disdain of everyone. The leader's stern gaze was brighter than a light bulb.
Bruce just watched without joining the game, quickly causing dissatisfaction. However, he had no choice but to stand outside and follow the betting. He eventually decided to join the game himself.
Without listening devices or monitors, and lacking X-ray vision, Bruce's high intelligence allowed him to remember every card and understand the flow of cards on the table and in his hand. In general, he won more than he lost. However, when the game dispersed, he was shouted at to treat everyone to dinner.
The next day, whether he won or lost, he was urged to win back what he lost. Bruce, for the first time, felt that leisure time after work was not that precious. He would rather work night shifts to avoid annoying socializing.
To escape these bothersome interactions, Bruce decided to expedite his delivery services at night. Night shifts brought in more money but were also more challenging.
Driving at night made him sleepy, especially in the first few days when his body hadn't adjusted to the time difference. While other truck drivers used to stay awake, Bruce staunchly refused. As a result, he eventually dozed off.
Fortunately, the collision wasn't severe, just a minor bump. There were no traffic police or insurance, and responsibility was usually determined by who had more bullets in their gun. The opposing truck driver admitted fault for cutting him off, realizing that Bruce, with his young face and strong physique, was in the right. They decided to go their separate ways and fix their own trucks.
Everything else was manageable, but the headlights were damaged. Headlights were crucial for night driving. Bruce found a repair shop, negotiated for two hours, and finally got a brand-new headlight instead of a used one. The price, however, depleted the money he had saved.
Why was saving money so difficult? Bruce pondered this question. He didn't know if he had bad luck or if his approach was flawed. Was he not adapting fast enough?
Three days of steady work, a week ensuring food and shelter, half a month becoming familiar in the industry, and nearly a month later, apart from still being penniless, his biggest achievement was just staying alive.
Bruce couldn't find a reference point, so he didn't know if his situation was normal. He wanted to ask someone he could trust but realized there was no one like that around.
Then he noticed that the most trustworthy person in this circle was surprisingly Joker Jack. Observing various situations, Bruce found that Joker Jack was quite successful as a truck driver. The bread he bought was twice as expensive as Bruce's, and he even got to eat fried chicken.
This was the first time Batman actively sought out Joker, not to imprison him but to see if this madman was doing better than him.
To his disappointment, Joker was doing exceptionally well. When Bruce found Jack, he was leaning against the repair shop's door, smoking a cigarette. Bruce's first reaction wasn't to stop him from smoking but to see what brand of cigarette he was smoking. He discovered that Joker was smoking a good-quality pack that cost 20 cents, and Bruce turned to leave.
However, Jack noticed him. Holding the cigarette, he looked at Bruce and said, "Look, isn't this our performance champion? It seems you haven't been eating well lately. Didn't your bat mom feed you?"
Jack walked to the roadside and squatted down, Bruce following suit. Jack offered Bruce a cigarette, but Bruce didn't take it, not because he refused to smoke but because he didn't even have a match.
He couldn't lean in and ask Jack for a light. With Jack's clumsy hands, he might accidentally ignite the kilograms of explosives on Bruce, and both of them would end up facing Death with no hierarchy.
"Have you ever thought that one day we could sit here and chat peacefully?" Jack exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke, saying, "And you're still jealous of me, jealous that I'm doing better and richer than you."
"You're dreaming," Bruce looked at the street in front of him and said, "I'm not jealous of you. I don't have as much money as you right now because I haven't been working for as long. If I had the same experience as you, I would be just as wealthy."
"If your useless pride could be exchanged for money, you wouldn't have to sleep in a truck. You know what? I don't even want to create explosive puzzles anymore. I don't want to make this riddle more difficult because even if it's so simple, you still can't solve it."
"Someday, I'll find the answer," Bruce said, supporting his knees with both hands. "I'll find it here, on them. If I find the answer, Batman will come back, and I'll send you to prison."
"Don't you think that sounds like a blessing for me?" Jack said. "Blessing me not to work but still get three meals a day, with no risk of starving and spending taxpayers' money."
Bruce stood up and leaned against a nearby utility pole. He didn't refute Jack's words because he realized that Joker was right. His current life was worse than being in prison.
Joker hugged his knees, chin on his arms, and said, "I don't need to deal with you anymore because you've chosen a more challenging opponent. He's much stronger than me and much crazier."
"In this world, the only thing I acknowledge as crazier than me is reality."
"Batman, I even want to help you. Only when you crawl out of the crib can you know what is most despairing in this world."
The last scene Bruce leaned on was the silhouette of Joker limping away in the sunset. He didn't ignite explosives or burst into maniacal laughter. Instead, he did something even crazier:
He left 100 US dollars for Batman, enough for him to rent a room.
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Next Chapter>>Chapter 786: Deadly Joke (Part 13)
