American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 105 Welcome to Iceberg Lounge!

Gotham's nights never sleep.

because
It simply breathes in a lower, more dangerous way.

The old Ford pickup truck was panting heavily.

It hummed and groaned as it drove across the massive sea-crossing bridge.

Beneath the bridge lies the pitch-black sea, reflecting the breathtaking brilliance of the opposite shore.

But beyond the rusted bridge railings lay a city, gradually becoming clearer in the pervasive night fog, like a lurking behemoth.

And the first to pierce the thick fog and enter view
It is an extremely imposing skyscraper, its towering spire resembling a black sword, hanging over the entire city, carrying a silent pressure.

It felt like they were about to unleash their gaze and kill these outsiders at any moment.

"W? Wayne?"

Clark blinked, feeling like he'd heard the name somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it.

"Oh my god"

As they entered the city, Pete instinctively slowed down, his fingers nervously tapping the steering wheel.

"Clark, can you smell it?"

"Even the fog here smells evil."

"?"

Clark silently rolled down the car window and took a deep breath...

Then they immediately regretted it.

His keen sense of smell allows him to detect more details than the average person:
Cheap perfume, alcohol, spoiled food, and some strange smell.

"Hey, look over there..."

Chloe, looking out the window, suddenly lowered her voice and nervously pointed to a shadowy street corner.

The two immediately looked in the direction she pointed.

Two men in long trench coats, acting furtively, were gesturing excitedly, their voices rising and falling, their movements wide and forceful, creating an atmosphere as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.

Could it be that?
Pete swallowed hard.

Is this supposed to be the Gotham-specific greeting?!

however……

Just as he had silently placed his foot on the accelerator, ready to accelerate at any moment.

After the two men shoved each other's shoulders, they seemed to have suddenly reached some kind of agreement.

They stopped arguing instantly and tacitly, each spitting angrily, then turned around at the same time and quickly disappeared into two different, darker alleys.

The movements were fluid and decisive.

But all three people in the car could see it clearly—

In that shove, the hem of the trench coat fluttered, revealing the clearly visible, cold, metallic sheen of the belt clipped to the waist...

It's a gun!

It's definitely a gun!

Welcome to Gotham.

Pete said dryly, his voice strained:

"The people are simple, honest, and hospitable."

"Look at this, such high level of civic virtue. Even when arguing, they are efficient and never say more than three sentences, so as not to delay each other's time to commit crimes after get off work."

"… .."

Chloe and Clark remained silent and did not respond.

Select the probe to continue peering out the window.

However, there was nothing comforting to see outside the window.

The streetlights on both sides of the street were mostly dim and yellowish, like old patients barely clinging to life.

A few lamps were still working occasionally, but they kept flickering, casting swaying, ghostly spots of light on the wet, eerily glowing asphalt.

The chaotic graffiti covered every inch of the wall in sight, from childish and crude gang markings to distorted abstract paintings that made people nervous, as if the whole city was screaming at the top of its lungs with spray paint cans.

After a long pause, Clark suddenly frowned and listened intently:

"Did you hear... that sound that keeps going on in the distance? It sounds like a police siren?"

"."

“I don’t think it should be called police sirens here.” Chloe frantically tapped the map, trying to hide her panic, but her tone remained serious. “It should be called… city background music. BGM, you know?”

"It's as natural as the mooing of cows on a farm or the sound of turning pages in a library."

"What are you saying?! I don't understand at all!"

Pete muttered to himself.

"boom!"

With a cough, the old Ford drove onto the main road.

The street scene that followed became more luxurious.

However, upon closer inspection, one will discover that beneath the glittering gold dust lies nothing but cold vigilance:

Every shop window is fitted with incredibly thick bulletproof glass.

Gotham is strange.

certainly…

What's even stranger on the road at this moment is—

Their old Ford was groaning and panting, with suspicious black smoke occasionally emanating from its exhaust pipe.
Against this backdrop of dazzling lights and extravagant glamour.

This old car, which looks like it was just stolen from a junkyard, is incredibly conspicuous in itself.

The return rate is 100%!
He received countless disdainful, curious, or undisguisedly wary glances from people in the underworld.

"Turn left and then right ahead, and you'll get onto Binhai Avenue."

Chloe spoke softly, her voice barely audible amidst the engine noise.

But Pete still steered the wheel with trepidation, almost holding his breath, making the old Ford swerve left and right like a frightened fat turtle, eventually driving onto a wider, brightly lit coastal avenue.

We had just set off.

The sight before them made all three of them gasp in shock.

Pete even instinctively slammed on the brakes, causing the entire carriage to shudder painfully once more—

A real, modern crystal palace stands imposingly on the coastline!

Countless powerful searchlights rendered its outline and the surrounding night sky in a mesmerizing and dazzling blue-purple hue.

Rolls-Royces, Lamborghinis, and a whole host of other top-of-the-line luxury cars whose names they couldn't even recognize stood silently in front of the gate, forming an expensive and cold steel line.

Waiters in crisp white uniforms and white gloves jogged over to open the car doors for the VIPs.

"I thought it was the 'Iceberg Club'..."

"It's just a slightly more expensive, upgraded version of the 'Heatwave Bar' in town..."

Clark murmured, his eyes widening slightly in shock.

"Yes."

Pete chimed in, his voice trembling, "This place looks like a paradise where even breathing costs money for country folk like us..."

"Are you sure Dior is 'working' here? Could he be some kind of secret prince here?"

"And we..."

Um.
Their beat-up truck was now emitting a tractor-like roar and spewing suspicious black smoke from its exhaust pipe.

Against this backdrop of extreme luxury, even existence itself seems so glaring and sinful.

"How about... we turn back now?"

Pete said cautiously.

“This is not a place for us at all! We’re not even wearing a decent dress, and we’d probably be thrown out by security before we even touch the doorknob.”

"Don't back down, Pete."

"We're already here! Dior might be waiting for us to boost their sales!"

Chloe gritted her teeth, her eyes suddenly lighting up, the spark of adventure reignited in her eyes!
"And who says only those in formal attire can get in? If there's no door, we'll build one ourselves!"

She turned around abruptly and ripped open the cardboard boxes containing unidentified tools in the back seat.

After a series of clanging sounds.

She then pulled out several wrinkled gray work clothes and a few yellow safety helmets from the bottom.

"An essential tool: disguise!"

She announced it, her tone as if she were a captain deploying an operation.

Following her movement, Pete and Clark were immediately dumbfounded...

"Why is this here?!"

Clark stared blankly at the foldable aluminum scaffolding in the corner of the carriage. "When did you shove this in? Is this a car or your magic bag?"

"Do not talk nonsense."

Chloe quickly put on her work clothes and tucked her blonde hair into her hard hat.

“With this,” she patted the scaffolding triumphantly, “we… cough cough…”

She cleared her throat and began speaking in an exaggerated yet authentic Old New York accent.

"Go wherever you want!"

Clark & ​​Pete: "."

After a while.
Clumsily carrying aluminum alloy scaffolding, the three of them, like a lost engineering squad, gritted their teeth and crossed the coastal avenue lined with luxury cars and elegantly dressed women.

Chloe, on the other hand, fearlessly took the lead, her blonde ponytail peeking out from under her helmet swaying spiritedly with each step.

"Make way! Repairs needed!"

She shouted with great force, startling a lady holding a poodle who gave them a disdainful look.

Covering their faces, Clark and Pete wished they could pull their helmets up to their noses.

Those few hundred meters felt like an eternity to them.

"arrive."

Chloe's excited voice came from ahead.

finally reached.

The two people behind her sighed inwardly.

"Paji!"

But just as the three of them stepped onto the stairs...

"Hello."

Two security guards dressed in black suits and wearing headsets appeared like ghosts emerging from the ground.

They precisely blocked the way for the three of them.

Their expressions were cold, their eyes sharp, and they made no attempt to hide their disgust as they looked at the oil-stained work clothes and the tools in their hands.

"You..." "We're here for repairs."

Chloe answered first, her fingers tapping impatiently on the scaffold crossbar.

"Repairs?" The security guard hesitated noticeably, his gaze sweeping over Chloe's slender figure and overly delicate chin. "Ma'am? The repair department these days..."

"What do you mean?"

Chloe abruptly raised her helmet, her blue eyes sharp as knives in the night.

"In Gotham, women hold up half the sky! Do you want me to call the mayor's office to discuss gender equality?"

"mayor?"

The two security guards couldn't help but chuckle.

His face clearly showed—

'The mayor is nobody!'

"."

"Cough cough!"

“Excuse me, gentlemen, we were called by Mr. Rochman.” Clark took out his business card and waved it in front of them. “We’re here to repair the refrigeration equipment.”

Supervisor Rochman?!

The security guards, who had initially been mocking him, turned into mice before a cat when they saw the business card.

His expression changed instantly.

"I mean"

“Welcome to Iceberg Lounge!”

"Please use this side door for maintenance. Providing convenience for professionals is also our responsibility!"

They hurriedly stepped aside, and one of them skillfully pushed open a metal door that blended perfectly with the ornate marble wall and was extremely well hidden.

Behind the door was a dark, narrow passageway, barely wide enough for one person to pass through.

Before the three of them could fully process this unexpected success, they were half-invited and half-pushed into the room.

"Bang!"

"Damn it, we almost ran into Mr. Rochman."

“Really”

The security guard stood outside the door, scratching his face with lingering fear, and muttered to his colleague beside him:
"Has Gotham's maintenance workforce become so scarce these days that even a young girl who looks like a model has to wield a wrench?"

The metal door slammed shut behind me, instantly shutting out the noise from the outside world.

The three repairmen looked at each other awkwardly, the scaffolding making an embarrassing clattering sound in the cramped space.

“Now,” Chloe said triumphantly, flicking her helmet. “Welcome to Iceberg Lounge!”

She stuffed her helmet into the trash can, her blonde hair cascading down like a waterfall.
"From now on, we're just lost tourists!"

Um.
As it turns out, the plan sounds much easier than it actually is.

Because as soon as they pushed open the door to the fire escape, the interior of the Iceberg Club rushed in with an almost violent luxury, instantly engulfing them.

Here
It's practically a giant labyrinth built with money, lights, and desire.

Getting lost is perfectly normal.

After all, the magnificent corridors stretched in all directions, each covered with thick, sound-absorbing carpets, and the walls were adorned with abstract paintings that were incomprehensible but clearly expensive.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of expensive perfumes, the rich aroma of cigars, and a hint of cold, metallic fragrance.

With each turn around the corner, the music and noise that flood your ears are completely different, as if you've instantly switched to another world.

"What should we do now?"

Pete was stunned by the dazzling sight before him and was momentarily at a loss.

"This is a hundred times bigger than ours! Where are we going to find a waiter?"

"Separating to search is too inefficient, while searching together is too conspicuous."

Chloe nodded.

His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, locking onto the waiters carrying trays and hurrying around.

"If Dior is working, he's most likely in a crowded place. Let's go check the main hall."

The three of them secretly followed a waiter.

We've arrived.
A more smoky area.

The lights of the slot machines and the clinking of coins never stop, while bunny girls flit about among them.

"Would the three of you like to try your luck?"

A bunny girl approached with a light laugh.

It instantly drew Pete's attention.

"Watch where you're going!"

Chloe gave him a tug, annoyed: "We're here to find someone, not to spend money!"

She pulled the two of them back into the corridor, but accidentally bumped open another heavy door.

boom!
The deafening electronic music crashed down like a solid wall. Laser lights ripped through the air, and the crowd in the dance floor writhed wildly.

The most eye-catching feature is the dancers spinning around the steel pole in the center of the stage.

Clark and Pete froze on the spot, their cheeks turning bright red.

"I"

“I admit I’m a country bumpkin.” Pete was stunned.

"Clark!"

Chloe complained.

"I'm so sorry..."

Clark snapped back to his senses, and in extreme embarrassment, he instinctively looked up to avoid eye contact.

However.
Perhaps it was because of the overly glaring scene, or perhaps it was because of the panic in my heart.

His eyes involuntarily reddened slightly.

Crack!

A light fixture on the ceiling suddenly burst into a burst of sparks!
Wow——! ! !
The piercing fire alarm ripped through the music, and the fire sprinkler system on top activated instantly, unleashing a torrential downpour that turned the entire dance floor into a chaotic pond!

"what happened?!!"

"Run!"

The crowd screamed and ran in all directions.

"This way!"

Chloe reacted quickly, wiping the water off her face.

She grabbed the still-dazed Clark with one hand and pulled the screaming Pete with the other, and rushed toward the sparsely populated side passage!

In their panic, the three of them broke through several doors and rushed into a much quieter corridor with simpler decor.

This appears to be the logistics area?
"Stop...stop for a second..."

Pete leaned against the wall, panting heavily. "What happened?"

"Unexpected?"

Clark concealed his inner turmoil, his eyes darting around.

What happened to his eyes?!

"Let's find somewhere to hide first."

Chloe didn't have time to summarize; she quickly surveyed her surroundings, her gaze settling on an inconspicuous elevator at the end of the corridor.

The three ran into the elevator, and the metal doors closed, finally isolating them from the chaos outside.

They slumped against the mirrored wall, panting heavily in a disheveled state.

"Now...now..."

“Clark,” Chloe said, wiping the water droplets from her face as she looked up at the complicated floor control panel, “which floor do you think we should go to to find Dio?”

"what?"

Clark subconsciously glanced at the button panel.

-1 to +15

"us."

"and many more?"

Clark's gaze wandered unconsciously, and his slightly hot eyes suddenly paused.

He always felt that the blank area at the bottom of the panel…

Something seems off? Below...
It was almost out of some inexplicable intuition, or perhaps I actually saw something.
Clark stretched out his finger and unconsciously tapped the blank space twice.

"Click"

With a slight click of a mechanism, the seemingly one-piece panel suddenly slid inward, revealing another button underneath that had never appeared on the indicator diagram before.
-
44
The three of them gasped simultaneously.

"Forty-four underground floors?"

“Clark.” Chloe turned her head abruptly, her eyes flashing with an alarming light. “How did you know there were hidden floors here? Could it be that you…”

"I'm not! I didn't! Stop talking nonsense!"

Clark hurriedly waved his hand in denial, afraid of being misunderstood as a regular here or having some special status.

"Nothing is missing."

Chloe was baffled by this overreaction:
"I just want to say that your luck with that random tap is ridiculously good!"

She turned her burning gaze back to the black button, licking her lips excitedly. "Gotham's biggest den of iniquity hides a forty-four-story underground... This is absolutely huge news! Could it be..."

The girl's thirst for knowledge was amplified to an infinite degree at this moment:
"What shady stuff is hidden inside? Let me..."

As she spoke, she seemed to be drawn by some kind of magic, reaching out to touch the black button that exuded an ominous aura.

"Chloe."

But suddenly a pair of strong hands reached out and grabbed her wrists tightly.

"Chloe, don't do that. We came to see Dio."

"Clark, this is..."

She turned her head impatiently, only to meet a pair of unusually serious eyes.

The burning intensity in his gaze was almost tangible, making her inexplicably feel uneasy.

“Okay…you’re right. Sorry, I was too impulsive.” She took a deep breath and casually pressed the number “4” button. “Let’s go to the fourth floor and see if we can find Dior.”

"?!"

Clark released his grip in shock. "You actually admitted your mistake?"

"."

Chloe's face darkened. Seeing the two boys' ghost-like expressions, she angrily punched the wall.

"Let's go!"

The elevator gave a slight jolt and then began to move smoothly upwards.

(End of this chapter)