American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

Gotham's drainage system, like its former mayor, always seems to burst at critical moments.

Of course, this refers to the reverse.

The area under the elevated overpass in the western district has now become a shallow bay, with dirty water mixed with engine oil and mud, reaching up to half the height of a car wheel.

Dozens of cars were stuck on the only main road, their horns blaring incessantly, mingling with the noise of the rain pounding on the roofs, creating a typical Gotham Rhapsody.

Sitting in the back seat of Afu's car, Xiu En pressed his temples in frustration.

It wasn't because his divine nature was impatient; it was purely because the beat-up pickup truck in front of him was constantly emitting black smoke, and his [Metal Resonance], enhanced by his passive skill, even allowed him to hear the rusty metal inside the truck's exhaust pipe howling in agony.

"Ah Fu, how much longer?"

"It'll probably take a while. The drainage system up ahead is probably clogged with silt or the body of some unfortunate soul. You know how inefficient the city hall is."

Afu, sitting in the front row, remained calm and even elegantly turned on the radio to block out the outside noise.

"Ugh, what a hassle. This is a complete waste of my precious lifespan."

Xiu En muttered something, and before Afu could remind him that the rain gear was in the trunk, he pushed open the car door and got out.

The rainwater began to evaporate within an inch of Xiu En's trench coat, making a soft hissing sound.

His body temperature was so high from just eating a bunch of high-energy golden mushrooms that he was practically a walking nuclear reactor waste bin.

He ignored the terrified looks from the drivers and walked straight to the deepest part of the floodwater.

There was a drain cover about the width of a small car that was completely blocked by garbage.

"Although I'm not Mario the plumber, it looks like I'll have to claim today's reward myself."

Xiu En lifted his foot and touched the murky water.

Centered on him, the water within a five-meter radius instantly transformed into a cloud of high-temperature steam with a golden-red sheen!

The drivers who were still honking their horns frantically were dumbfounded.

They only saw a white cloud pillar suddenly rise up in front of them, as if by divine intervention. Then, the area of ​​water that had previously submerged their calves not only dried up, but even the asphalt on that ground was steaming and softening.

The originally icy cold air instantly became warm and humid, like being in a sauna, and even a little hot to the touch.

The dark figure standing in the center of the steam waved his hand casually, as if shooing away a fly.

The cast iron manhole cover, which had been welded shut by silt, seemed to come alive under his [metal resonance]. It twisted and splintered its bolts, obediently turned to the side, letting the remaining water swirl and roll into the sewer, and then slammed shut again.

"Done, job done."

Xiu En patted the hem of his trench coat, turned around, and went back to his car.

The car door closed, shutting out the complete silence outside.

Afu glanced through the rearview mirror at the dried road and the drivers frantically taking photos with their phones.

"Very efficient, Shurn. But hopefully the bill for that road repair won't end up at Wayne Manor."

"Put it on the city hall, since I was helping them clear the blockages without any contact."

Xiu En snuggled comfortably against the seat, which felt as warm as if the seat cushion was heated.

"And don't you think this image of bringing good fortune and prosperity wherever they go is very suitable for the future development of the cult?"

……

When Shuon entered the East Drawing Room of Wayne Manor, the atmosphere was even more oppressive than a Gotham downpour.

Two people were standing in front of the large French windows.

One was Bruce, who hadn't had time to change out of his casual clothes, with that tired, fake smile of Bruce Wayne on his face.

The man sitting opposite him, in terms of height, build, and meticulously styled hairline, resembled a more perfect reflection of Bruce in the mirror.

Lincoln March.

If Bruce is the decadent dark prince of Gotham, then this man slowly stirring his tea spoon is like a knight of light sculpted from marble and gold.

"It seems our guests have arrived."

Lincoln put down the glass he probably never intended to drink from, turned his head, and his pale blue eyes lingered on Hugh for a moment.

It was only for a moment.

His [Metal Resonance] was frantically alarming in his mind: Warning! Extremely high purity memory metal reaction detected ahead! Active Dionysus factor fluctuations sensed!

Xiu En was very aware of this; it seemed he could sense these things on his own without needing the system to remind him.

"Mr. Shum, the recently famous lighting effects artist in Gotham."

Lincoln even used a nickname that Shum himself didn't know in some sense in this world, without any hint of mockery in his tone.

"Your miracle just cleared the traffic under the overpass, which probably saved the city hall a lot of money and won you 0.5 percentage points of support among that group of potential voters if you run for office."

"If you're here to sell insurance, I can consider giving you three minutes."

Shuen pulled out a chair and sat down, giving Bruce a wink at the same time.

Bruce ignored Shum's winks and simply said coldly, "Mr. March is here to announce one of his decisions."

"It's not a decision, it's a notification."

Lincoln stood up, straightened the hem of his unwrinkled suit, and looked through the gloomy rain of Gotham towards the distant, faintly visible clock tower.

"I already know who I am, Bruce. Or rather, I know who I am not."

Lincoln's voice was very soft.

"I may have been manufactured, a tool indoctrinated with the ridiculous lie of Thomas Wayne II. But I have a heartbeat, I breathe, and these eyes have seen rats in the Gotham sewers and eaten steaks in the uptown."

He turned around and looked directly at the real Wayne.

"The Court of Owls treats it as a hunting ground, you treat it as your parents' graveyard. But I'm different, I love it. I love this rotten, pus-filled city that still lives. Since the real thing doesn't care about power, then the fake will sit on the throne and make it work in my way."

Bruce's eye muscles twitched almost imperceptibly.

He saw something even more intense in the eyes of this self-proclaimed imposter than he had ever been—an ambition that was a mixture of extreme rationality and a frenzied desire for control.

"Therefore, I am running for mayor. I will lock Falcone up and nail that clown, the Riddler, to the pillar of shame. By law, by capital, by the necessary iron fist."

Lincoln walked up to Bruce and extended his hand.

"Don't block my way, my brother. Otherwise, even I can't guarantee how long that so-called brotherhood will last."

Bruce didn't shake hands; he simply put his hands in his pockets, which was also a form of response.

"Good luck, campaigning is not child's play."

Lincoln withdrew his hand, showing no embarrassment, and turned to walk towards the door.

He paused for a moment as he passed by Xiu En.

"By the way, Mr. Metal, you've arrested me once before, but there won't be a next time. Also, you have a strong odor on you; it's the rust of an old era. There might not be a place for you in my New Gotham."

Only after the stretch Lincoln completely disappeared into the rain did Xiu En grab the teacup on the table and drink it all in one gulp.

"Was this guy just declaring war on you? And he seems to really think he's the boss of this place."

Bruce stared intently at the closed door, his eyes deep.

"He's trying to integrate the legacy of the Court of Owls with legitimate political power. A sane, ambitious man who loves Gotham...is definitely more troublesome than a madman."