Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 278 A Letter from an Old Friend

After seeing the children and Solomon, Ma Zhaodi went to see Sheriff Gordon and Harvey Dent, as well as Mr. Freeze and Poison Ivy in the prison.

Unfortunately, everyone was still busy with their own things, and Ma Zhaodi, an idle person, seemed particularly detestable in the eyes of these people working overtime late into the night. In addition, since they had only been apart for a few days, basically no one wanted this guy who had nothing to do. Everyone, who was so busy that they were almost falling apart, unanimously kicked him out, out of sight, out of mind.

"Sheriff Gordon said he had a lot of cases of people turning themselves in, then he ran out of the police station himself, saying that I was being too polite, snatched the snacks I brought, and started to see me out, without even letting me into the police station."

“Prosecutor Harvey was also processing the prisoners at an assembly-line speed, sorting and packaging them into categories for sentencing. He was particularly enthusiastic about handling the case files. We sat facing each other for ten minutes without exchanging a single word. When I left, he didn’t even notice.”

"The situation in the prison is equally chaotic. Mr. Freeze and Poison Ivy seem to be developing workaholic tendencies, and all they can say is 'uh-huh' and 'hahaha,' they're just being perfunctory."

"Alas, it has all faded in the end. No friendship can withstand the test of time."

Ma Zhaodi took a sip of black tea with a melancholy expression and sighed as he looked at Alfred, who was working at his desk.

"Hey Alfred, what are you doing?"

“To share Bruce’s workload—Mr. Ma, may I offer you a small suggestion?”

"what?"

"Go home immediately and find something worthwhile to do."

boom!
Ma Zhaodi stood at the entrance of Wayne Manor, holding a teacup, lost in thought. The tea in his hand hadn't even cooled down yet.

"No, why?"

That evening, Ma Zhaodi finally decided to run back to find the children—at least this time, he wasn't kicked out.

At this time, Gotham was still undergoing reconstruction. After a few days of rest, Ma Zhaodi found the city unusually peaceful without gangs, hungry ghosts, or supervillains. So he secretly planned to do some business in Gotham.

It's impossible for working people to stop working; they can never stop working in their lives. The only way is to find high-paying jobs to earn more assets.

That's what he thought at least half a minute ago.

[System notification: Assets received: 200,000 yuan]

"Holy crap?" Ma Zhaodi's eyes widened. "Where did this come from? I haven't even started working yet."

[Upon verification, this is your first payment and partial bonus for participating in the "Gotham Renovation Project"]

"Batman, you did a great job, you did a great job!"

Ma Zhaodi was moved to tears. That's why they say "land should be redistributed from the rich"—those corrupt officials and gang leaders were just too rich.

Hit him harder, hit him hard—keep it up, you big brother with the pointy head!

He rolled over in bed contentedly, deciding to give himself a few days off—then realized the charging cable was a bit short and rolled back over.

What's the rush? Work isn't everything. It's past 3 o'clock, let's have some tea first.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne was still working at his desk in the manor.

As he was writing furiously, a television news report caught his attention. "Today's news: Scientists have discovered a peculiar square cactus in an arid region of Sudan. Its growth rate is terrifying, and its numbers are rapidly increasing in the desert. According to our reporters who went to the area, as of today, large numbers of local Sudanese tribal residents are competing to cultivate this giant cactus as a water source. Therefore, the area where this species is being cultivated is expanding across the desert at a rate of tens of meters per day."

"This rate of growth is quite unusual, and it is currently impossible to determine whether this phenomenon is due to an invasive alien species. We will continue to follow up and conduct investigations and reports."

Bruce stared at the miniature desert map on TV, filled with cacti, and pondered for a moment.

"Alfred," he said to the butler beside him, "did you bring back the cactus samples?"

“It’s been brought back, Master Bruce—but the compost bin can’t be bought back; the tribe’s shaman is unwilling to sell it.”

"let it go."

“Excuse me for speaking frankly, Mr. Bruce,” Alfred asked, “do we really need to examine everything around Mr. Ma?”

"Alfred, Sudan is about to be taken over by cacti. Not only cacti, but the green woodland around that tribe is also expanding wildly."

Bruce replied, "I'm not sure how big the chain reaction will be with what Ma Zhaodi has to produce, but I'm sure he has the ability to turn the world upside down so much that we won't recognize it anymore."

"Keep an eye on him to prevent the world from becoming a runaway horse."

When Bruce's mind is filled with wild horses, some things really do go astray.

The day after receiving the $200,000, Ma Zhaodi got up early, intending to go to the gold shop.

While he was in London, England, he realized that although the ugly golden pumpkin headgear he had crafted could be stored in the system, it was clear that it was not very convenient to carve and use. If he wanted to use money, he could just cut off a piece from it, and then it would not be recognized by the system.

Fortunately, this was not a difficult problem. After returning to Gotham, he came up with a good idea—to commission the gold shop to melt down and process the giant pumpkin according to his carving skills, and to replicate it into small pumpkins. In this way, every golden pumpkin could be collected into the mall and would be easy to use.

"This plan shouldn't go wrong," Ma Zhaodi thought to himself. "There's practically no one in Gotham City who would dare to have any ill intentions towards my gold—not to mention, everyone here knows my reputation as a jinx."

He hummed a song as he walked out the door, intending to drive his beloved "death car" out of the small garage, but then stopped after casually opening the mailbox.

"Huh? Who sent me a letter?"

Ma Zhaodi took out an envelope with a stamp on it with some curiosity. Since arriving here, the only use of the mailbox has been to receive bills and notices. After all, very few people at Dongda University write letters anymore. Mobile phone text messages have become dedicated to verification codes and notifications, while video calls and chat software are much more convenient. Therefore, he has no habit of writing letters to people.

The only time Ma Zhaodi received a letter was on Christmas Eve, written by Harvey, which was delivered by someone else rather than being placed in his mailbox.

"So who exactly wrote me the letter?"

He opened his mailbox, tore open the envelope, and found that the handwriting on it looked quite familiar.

"Old Ma, it's been a long time since we last met, and I haven't heard from you. I wonder how you're doing in Gotham City."

I told Camilla before that I was going to move back to the Metropolis to continue living there, but now, if you want to come see us, don't come to the Metropolis—because it's crazier than Gotham right now.”

P.S.: Sorry, I've been stuck for so long.

(End of this chapter)