Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 66 Harlequin
Making a crystal ball music box model requires much more technical skills than the first two, but it is not difficult to meet because its requirement is "silent".

A music box that does not require sound is just an ordinary crystal ball. The most labor-intensive parts, such as the sound barrel and soundboard, are completely omitted. You just need to make it rotate.

The components for this part are easy to buy and not difficult to assemble. Ma Zhaodi does not need to spend extra skill points to purchase basic hand-made skills. He can assemble it step by step according to the tutorials found on the Internet.

"Luckily, tomorrow is Christmas, and the Falcone family isn't having a party. Instead, they're all staying home to celebrate. Otherwise, I'd have to go ask Falcone for leave. Tsk, is this what a working class is like?"

Don't get me wrong, Ma Zhaodi is just an ordinary waiter and has no chance to disturb the busy Gotham City mafia godfather for the time being, even if he really succeeds in becoming a chef - the Falcone he asked for leave from is the Roman's biological son, Alberto Falcone.

Although he is the Godfather's biological son, his name is rarely mentioned by his family. Whether it is newspaper reports or insiders of the Gotham underworld, their views on him are limited to four words: smart and transparent.

Through his own efforts, he won a scholarship to Harvard University and later went to Oxford University for further studies. His academic qualifications and IQ are outstanding among the gangs in Gotham City. Logically speaking, with such a son, the Roman underworld empire can be said to have successors.

But the second impression, transparency, was also created by the Romans - Carmine Falcone forbade Alberto Falcone from getting involved in the family business since he was a child, and instead let his brother Mario Falcone and sister Sofia Falcone serve as his right-hand men to assist in gang affairs; Alberto had told his father countless times that he wanted to follow in his footsteps, but he always got the same answer.

"No, you don't have to touch the family business."

Therefore, he could only take charge of some trivial and harmless affairs in the family and live the life of a rich young man like Bruce Wayne - but he was not used to being as indulgent as Bruce, so he became more and more introverted and silent, and people's impression of him became increasingly weak.

But in fact, Ma Zhaodi can say with certainty that he is definitely Falcone's favorite son, no doubt about it.
-
at the same time--

"Dent! It must be Harvey Dent!"

Outside the Maroni family's Italian restaurant, the faint sounds were drowned out by the wind and snow. The doors and windows were closed tightly, so passers-by could not see what was going on inside the house.

Inside, dimmed ambient lighting, common in high-end restaurants, illuminates a dining table and vaguely illuminates the surrounding area.

Most of the tables and chairs were neatly placed, and the entire restaurant seemed empty at this time, as if it had been cleared by two people at the table.

"I want some men, my dear fellow—some good hands, I mean, to be placed in the district attorney's office, and to keep a round-the-clock eye on Harvey Dent."

"It's already been arranged, Mr. Maloney. I found a guy named Vernon, hahahahaha hehehe."

The man with the mustache held the red wine in his hand and couldn't help but laugh evilly. His voice sounded very much like the dark villain in the cartoon - but the words he just said were indeed the words of a dark villain.

"Dear friend?" Maroni, who was sitting opposite him, frowned. It was unusual for him to lose his composure like this, and the villain's laughter sounded a bit creepy. "What the hell is so funny about this?"

However, the man holding the wine glass remained silent, just laughing creepily.

"Hehehehehohoha ...

"Ah!"

He threw down his wine glass with wild laughter and dove into the plate of pasta in front of him. The smile on his face was so bright that the corners of his mouth stretched from ear to ear, and he didn't make any other sound.

"Hey!"

Maroni was splashed with spaghetti sauce by the guy who pushed him over, and he immediately flew into a rage. But before he could lose his temper, a waiter in white came over with a tray. "Would you like some more wine, Mr. Maroni?"

A teasing voice sounded in his ears, and Maroni's attention was immediately attracted, and he turned his head to look over.

Dark green curly hair, skin as pale as a corpse, a pointed nose, two sharp and mean eyebrows, the corners of his mouth were almost stretched to his ears, and he smiled unscrupulously.

A smile that is not warm, a creepy smile, a cold smile.

His gaze was like a cat staring at a mouse, like a poisonous snake staring at a traveler. There was no smile in his eyes, which formed an abrupt and shocking contrast with the big smile on his face.

Just by looking at his face, Maroni instinctively felt a chill. Chaos and madness mixed with strong malice came at him, and even made this gangster who had been living on the edge of a knife for years feel a little fear.

So he used anger to mask his fear.

"A buffoon."

He looked down at the man in front of him, with an angry and arrogant look on his face: "No clown can enter my territory, and then-"

"Mine is bigger than yours, Maroni."

A revolver with a muzzle as big as Maroni's forehead was pressed against his head, causing him to freeze in mid-air while trying to pull the gun out of his pocket.

His eyes suddenly widened as he looked at the other person's smiling mouth and nonchalant eyes. At this moment, Maroni realized that the other person was a real lunatic - he didn't care about the consequences of killing him, nor did he care how powerful he was.

He really doesn't mind killing himself.

At this time, the clown spoke again: "Or, should I call you the Festival Killer?"

Upon hearing this outrageous statement, Maroni immediately retorted subconsciously: "Festival killer? Me?"

"Of course. You are the second man in Gotham City, Carmine Falcone, and Roman is the 'first man' in Gotham City."

"The festival killers only slaughtered Romans, so of course you got the most benefit—"

"No, wait, I swear on my mother's grave—"

Maroni, panicking, spoke without thinking, his demeanor and dignity as a gangster gone. "In the end, this is all about business. The whole holiday killer thing is ruining everyone's business!"

Little Gu said, scratching his head in confusion, then put his pale face in front of Maroni, blinking his eyes confusedly, asking questions like a curious child.

"So."

“Who is the Festival Killer?”

(End of this chapter)