American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 283 Harley Quinn and Jonathan Klein.

"Why should I be your driver on New Year's Eve?"

Gordon gripped the steering wheel and glanced irritably at Harvey in the passenger seat.

My friend's face has recovered completely, and the hideous scars left by the fire have disappeared without a trace.

Instead, it was replaced by a near-perfect one.
One could even say he has an overly handsome face.

However, at this moment, Gordon felt that face was particularly irritating.

New Year's Eve should have brought a moment of peace to Gotham.

He was dragged out of his warm home by this guy, who said he had to visit a psychology professor at Gotham University named Hugo Strange.

“Because right now, only your face, as the director, can get through the Gotham University security cordon.” Harvey leaned back comfortably in his leather seat, his tone relaxed. “Don’t worry, Jim, Barbara won’t blame you. She’ll understand that you’re voluntarily working overtime on New Year’s Eve for a brighter future for Gotham.”

"What about him?"

Gordon glanced at the blond man behind him with his eyes closed, and his lips twitched. "What's he going there for?"

Upon hearing this, Dior slowly opened his eyes and precisely met Gordon's gaze through the rearview mirror.

With just a glance, Gordon felt an invisible pressure.
But then she realized...
I am the Commissioner of the Gotham Police Department!

But before he could muster any authoritative rebuke, Harvey slapped him hard on the shoulder, his hand carrying a hint of mockery:
"Alright, Jim, don't get so worked up. Haven't you always been eyeing this car?"

He pointed to the brand-new luxury car beneath him, "Dior said that after you finish this trip, this car will be yours."

"..."

Gordon paused for a moment.

His gaze involuntarily swept over the gleaming three-pointed star emblem in the center of the steering wheel, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly. This was indeed a good car, far exceeding his official allowance.

But he still shook his head and said, "...I have principles. The director of the GCPD cannot..."

"This car"

Dior interrupted him, saying in a flat tone, "It was donated to the Gotham Police Department by the Iceberg Corporation."

"As the chairman of the group, I am awarding the GCPD for its outstanding contributions to maintaining order in Gotham. This is legal, compliant, and procedurally sound."

The car fell into silence.

Gordon coughed lightly and said with a kind smile:
"Your Majesty, where would you like to go today?"

As he spoke, he skillfully shifted gears and lightly tapped the accelerator, allowing the luxury car to accelerate smoothly.

Watching Gordon's seamless change of expression, Harvey couldn't help but rub his forehead, his tone tinged with a mixture of amusement and exasperation:

“Jim, I must say, you’ve become more and more shrewd lately.”

Gordon's smile froze for a moment, then slowly faded.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. "Harvey... you call me slick? What about you? You, the prosecutor who used to be the most principled about procedure and justice, were just openly advising me to accept 'bribes'."

After he finished speaking, Harvey fell silent.

He leaned back in his chair, the undamaged half of his face appearing somewhat obscure in the shifting light and shadow outside the window.

He couldn't argue.

He was once the Knight of Light of Gotham, but the city he protected was pushed into hell.

In his quest for revenge against the city, his own moral compass is becoming blurred.

Serving the darkness—that was in my past self.
I wouldn't even dare to think about it.

That fire destroyed everything he owned.

Yet it is in this deepest darkness.
He was given a new life.

Dior did not offer him false sympathy, but instead gave him a completely new face.

And an even more tempting goal.
revenge.

To take revenge on this hypocritical, corrupt city.

The once-shining knight died, his ideals turning to ashes in that great fire.

Now sitting here is a black knight who has returned from hell; his sword is no longer for protection, but for annihilation.

Gordon smirked, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice, and muttered, "I remember there's a line in the Bible, 'He who touches pitch will be defiled.'"
As soon as he finished speaking, Dior's indifferent voice rang out from inside the car.

"is it?"

"But I remember a saying, 'When in Gotham, do as the Gothamites do.'"
"."

Gordon didn't comment on the answer; he simply gripped the steering wheel tighter and focused his gaze more intently on the darkness ahead, cut through by the headlights.

He knew Dio was right. In Gotham, sticking too much to the black-and-white principle would often only lead to personal ruin and even the deaths of more innocent people.

To dance with darkness appropriately is the way to survive and maintain balance.

Gordon gained admission to Gotham University using facial recognition.

After recognizing him, the security guard at the gate became almost obsequious, quickly raising the barrier and adding a comment.

Good evening, Director Gordon.

The three got out of the car and walked through the quiet campus of Gotham University.

The university, located in the old town, is like an isolated island forgotten by time, completely different from the chaos and noise of the outside world.

The ancient stone buildings stand silently in the night, the meticulously manicured lawns remain neat even in winter, and the streetlights cast a dim and calming glow. Occasionally, students carrying books hurry by, their faces bearing the anxiety or tranquility of the campus.

Here, under the special protection of GCPD, an almost unreal peace is maintained.

Gordon watched this scene, unable to hide his longing:

"If only I could make the whole of Gotham look like this place..."

He sighed, "It's a pity... I can't do it."

Dio glanced at Gordon, who was lost in melancholy, and walked calmly beside him.

"Instead of spending so much effort thinking about how to 'protect' every single person."

"Instead of indulging in such unrealistic fantasies..."

Dior sneered, "I think you'd be better off being more pragmatic and thinking about how to make people feel 'they are protected'."

“If this continues, sooner or later your GCPD will be dissolved and reorganized by public opinion due to your ‘inaction’ and ‘loss of credibility’.”

Gordon's face darkened. As a pragmatist who believed in action and results, he instinctively felt uncomfortable with Dior's manipulative and superficial political tactics.

This runs counter to his unwavering belief in justice.

but……

His mind was uncontrollably filled with some absurd remarks he had recently heard on the street, public opinion that had become distorted in panic and despair.

Recently, people have really started shouting loudly.
They prayed for the return of the Black Mask who had caused so much chaos and death, believing that only that madman could protect the peace of Gotham!
Damn it...

Gordon felt a surge of anger rising in his chest.

These police officers, who risked their lives to maintain order and fight crime, shed blood and sacrificed their lives, yet in the end, no one praised them.

The madman in the black mask, who treats human life like dirt, only needs to use a few tricks to make those ignorant guys grateful and bow down in worship!
With a helpless smile, Harvey reached out and patted his old friend on the shoulder.

"Alright, Jim, let's not think about those unpleasant things." He gestured to the silent buildings lining the road in the night. "Since you're here, let me introduce you to this university."

"That's the campus theater over there, that's the Rotherm Computer Science Building, the cradle of many Gotham tech companies, and further over there is..."

"Y-you...hello...can we get to know each other?"

A shy female voice interrupted Harvey's introduction.

The group looked in the direction of the sound and saw Dior, who was walking ahead, being stopped by two girls who looked like college students and were carrying books.

Their faces were flushed
She was clearly attracted by Dior's outstanding looks and unique, aloof demeanor.

Impatience flashed in his eyes, but Dio didn't even stop walking or say a word.

But on a level imperceptible to ordinary people, the air behind him was slightly distorted.

The "world" quietly emerged, and with an irresistible yet harmless force, it silently pushed the two girls aside by half a step, like parting the currents of water, making way for Dior.

The two girls felt a momentary dizziness, their bodies involuntarily shifting slightly to the side. When they came to their senses, the handsome blond man had already walked past them without even glancing at them, as if they were merely roadside decorations. Just as they were feeling bewildered and embarrassed, another handsome face with a gentle smile appeared beside them.

"Excuse me, ladies."

Harvey appeared at just the right moment, wearing a deceptively friendly smile, and said in a low voice, "My friend might not be in a good mood today. I hope I didn't startle you."

His handsome face was sharply defined under the streetlights, and his blue eyes held just the right amount of apology.

"Okay...ok..."

Looking at the equally pleasing-to-the-eye, and much more friendly, handsome face in front of them, the two girls nodded blankly, forgetting their earlier slight displeasure.

Gordon, watching this scene from the side, gritted his teeth in anger.

He subconsciously straightened his tie, straightened his back, and thought to himself.

We're all in this together, we can't lose face.

In Gotham, mature and steady older handsome men should still have some appeal...

However, before his narcissistic smile could fully spread, the two girls pushed each other a little, but finally mustered up their courage and jogged over to him.

Gordon was secretly pleased and was about to show off his approachable demeanor as the director.

"Um... Uncle."

One of the girls asked somewhat shyly, "Could you give us the contact information for those two handsome guys?"

Another girl quickly nodded in agreement: "I think you guys are together, right? Are you one of them...?"

Gordon's smile froze, then he forced out two words through gritted teeth:

"driver."

After saying that, he turned away with a dark expression, ignoring the two disappointed girls, and strode off, his sullen aura carrying him as he quickly caught up with the two men in front of him.

I spent half a day wandering around the relatively quiet campus of Gotham University.

The three of them finally stopped in front of a gray-white building that looked quite old.

Above the building's entrance hang antique bronze letters, faintly discernible in the dim light.

Lombroso Building.

"This is the Psychology Building."

Harvey pointed to the building. "It's connected to the Department of Psychiatry. Professor Hugo Strange, whom we're visiting, should have his office and laboratory in here."

Dior nodded slightly, his face expressionless, and took the lead, walking calmly through the open, heavy wooden door.

Just as the three stepped into the dark hallway, a figure brushed past them.

She was a vibrant young girl with playful pigtails and striking gold-pink ombre hair, transitioning from gold at the roots to pink at the ends, like some kind of dreamy candy.

She was wearing a slightly unconventional yet still youthful outfit of a hoodie and skirt.

She was carrying several thick psychology textbooks in her arms, chatting and laughing with her companion as she walked out.

But in the very instant he passed Dior...
Her steps faltered unconsciously, and her words came to an abrupt halt.

Almost instinctively, I turned my head and stared blankly as I followed the blond man's retreating figure, watching him disappear into the deeper shadows behind the door.

"Harley, you saw it too, didn't you?"

Her companion excitedly grabbed her arm and whispered, "That man just now... oh my god, he was so handsome! His aura... it was amazing!"

Harley Quinn nodded blankly, her gaze still fixed on the direction Dio had disappeared in, and murmured unconsciously, "It seems... a little..."

Her heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

But it's not just about her stunning appearance.
More like a…

The predicament of being captured by an invisible force of gravity.

"I never thought I'd see someone so mesmerized," her companion exclaimed, waving her hand in front of her eyes. "You're our university's top student and gymnastics princess; the line of men chasing you could stretch all the way to Gotham Harbor!"

"This is the first time I've ever seen you look so...absent-minded in front of a boy."

"Um……"

Harley was still somewhat distracted, trying hard to banish the image of that aloof blonde with red eyes from her mind, but to no avail.

She shook her head, trying to regain her usual composure.

"By the way, Harry."

A companion asked curiously, "Speaking of which, weren't you in the School of Veterinary Medicine and Biological Sciences before? With such good grades, why did you suddenly decide to transfer to our Psychiatry Building?"

Harley finally snapped out of her reverie, looked away from the entrance of the psychology building, and put on a bright smile again.

"Who knows..."

She shrugged, her tone light, as if it were just a casual, insignificant decision. "Maybe it's just that...studying the human brain is...more interesting than studying animals?"

Harley took her companion's arm and tugged hard.

"Let's go, let's go! If we don't go to the cafeteria soon, all the good food will be gone!"

The three of them asked around and wandered around in the maze-like psychology building for a long time before finally finding their target with the vague directions of a sanitation worker wiping the corridor handrail.

An unremarkable dark wooden door.

The door panels were simple and unadorned, without even a nameplate.

It stood out starkly from the surrounding offices with their gleaming nameplates.

Gordon looked at the door, his brow furrowed, a look of bewilderment in his eyes. This was far from what he had imagined the office of a renowned professor to be.

Harvey took a deep breath, stepped forward, and tapped the door three times with his fingers, neither too hard nor too soft.

"Enter."

A somewhat gloomy voice came from inside the door.

Without any hesitation, Dior reached out and pushed open the door.

The scene inside the office then came into view.
The space was small and filled with books and folders, making it look somewhat cluttered and cramped.

The light mainly came from an old green desk lamp on the table, casting large, distorted shadows on the wall.

A man sits behind a desk.

He was thin, wearing a wrinkled khaki suit, and his unkempt brown hair looked messy, with a few strands falling over his forehead.

The light from the desk lamp illuminated the lower half of his face from below, but it also made his eyes sink into the shadows of his brow bones, with only a faint reflection visible behind his glasses.

His entire demeanor exuded a gloomy aura, as if he had been hunched over a desk for long periods without seeing the sun.

"What do you want from me?"

The man raised his head, his voice hoarse.

Harvey stared at the face, trying to recall any memory of Professor Hugo Strange.

Having graduated from law school, he had seen that professor a few times from afar, and in his memory, he was a more... dignified, neat, and even somewhat aristocratic person.

And this person in front of me...

"...Are you Professor Hugo Strange?"

Harvey finally spoke up to confirm, his tone tinged with hesitation.

"..."

The man remained silent for a moment.

"I'm……"

He spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of helplessness that seemed to come with a sense of familiarity.
“Jonathan…Jonathan Klein.”

He adjusted his glasses, and the reflection behind the lenses flickered.

"I am a psychology expert in the field of phobias. You can call me Professor Klein."

(End of this chapter)