Chapter 39: Haha, It's All Over!
While Tony was working his third job, District Attorney Harvey Dent had already gone home early.
This night wasn't quite what he had imagined.
The fire was a big deal, but it wasn't urgent. He didn't even need to stay at the scene. He could just turn around and go home because there wasn't much left for him to do for now.
As for the murder of Johnny Viti, it was something Captain Gordon had to worry about.
Moreover, Harvey had plans with Glida to go give candy to the neighborhood kids.
Harvey drove home, and it was still relatively early. In a cheerful mood, he opened the front door.
"Hey, Harvey, you're home right on time today!"
"Hah, I made a promise to you, Mrs. Dent."
Just then, the doorbell suddenly rang.
"Guess who's here?"
Gilda said as she turned and walked toward the front door.
"How would I know—wait, let me get it—"
At that moment, Harvey felt a little worried.
It wasn't because he had a strange feeling but because he realized that now would be the perfect time if someone wanted to cause trouble on Halloween.
They could trick a kid into delivering a carefully wrapped bomb disguised as a Halloween surprise, and almost no one would expect it.
Before he could finish speaking, Gilda already opened the door.
"Trick or treat!"
A bunch of little "ghosts and monsters" suddenly jumped out, breaking his paranoid train of thought.
There was no bomb, no attack, no mob retaliation—just a peaceful and joyful Halloween night.
After all, what reason would The Roman have to take revenge on a lowly prosecutor like himself?
Harven had even been beaten up just for checking the license plates at his nephew's party parking lot.
A man like that had no motive to come after him.
Harvey smiled to himself when realizing he was probably just worrying too much. Then he went to the door and started handing out candy to the kids with his wife.
"Happy Halloween, little ones."
"Happy Halloween, Mr. Harvey!"
"Happy Halloween, Mrs. Dent."
...
Meanwhile, at the Gotham Police Department in downtown Gotham City.
Gordon was looking through a big pile of papers.
He glanced at his watch, and it was very late at night. He put out his cigarette in a Halloween-themed ashtray on the desk.
"Happy Halloween, Batman. Thanks for the gift."
"Happy Halloween, Captain Gordon—go home early and spend time with your family."
Halloween in Gotham was over except for one strange murder, the night was quiet and peaceful, like a nice dream.
But for some people, what happened in Gotham tonight was more like a nightmare.
...
It was a peaceful morning.
Tony, as usual, drove his precious little wheelchair to work.
He was in a good mood.
He had finished all three jobs in one night and got a lot out of it.
Even without thinking about the little pumpkin lantern, just having twenty thousand dollars, Intermediate Cooking Proficiency, and his friendship with Solomon Grundy made it all worth it.
During that night, Grundy even shook his hand nicely when he was leaving.
"Pumpkin Man, scary, good guy."
"Pumpkin Man, friend, burger, tasty."
Because of this, Tony decided he would bring delicious food to Grandy every day from now on.
Even though he wouldn't starve to death, Grundy would indeed remember his friend.
Moreover, if Tony ever ran into some supervillain or assassin organization again, he could ask Grundy's help.
Of course, if possible, Tony hoped that scenario would never happen.
"Good morning, Claude, Lloyd, Bridget. How was your night?"
He cheerfully greeted his colleagues, but strangely, the three who usually joked and laughed with him didn't respond this time.
Instead, they looked at him with a strange gaze.
"What's wrong? You all look like something's off."
"Ah? Ah, good morning, Tony."
"Good morning."
"Good morning, Tony. Did you go do some side jobs last night?"
"Hm? Yeah, I did."
"Huh? Yeah, I did some side gig last night."
"Oh, oh, you weren't at home?"
"You can't work a side gig if you just stay at home, Bridget."
Tony said, looking at the three of them with some confusion.
They weren't talking like usual, and they sounded nervous and unsure.
"Well… I just want to make sure. You just came to Gotham recently, right? You're not part of any gang?"
"Come on, what are you even talking about? Of course, I haven't joined any gangs. I barely even know how to use a gun, and I'm still training every day at the shooting range the supervisor introduced me to—wait, something's definitely off with you guys today. Did something happen?"
"Uh, have you seen today's Gotham Gazette?"
"I haven't bought it yet—what's going on?"
"What about today's Gotham Morning News? You haven't read that either?"
"What exactly are you talking about?"
Tony frowned.
Seeing his coworkers hesitate like this, a strange, ominous feeling suddenly surged in Tony's heart.
"What's wrong with the news?"
"See for yourself."
Claude handed over a newspaper, and Tony took it casually.
He quickly looked at the front page, and his eyes widened.
"Johnny Viti Assassinate! An Ugly Pumpkin Left at the Scene!"
[On Halloween night last evening, Johnny Viti, nephew of The Roman, was found dead in the bathtub of his own villa. According to the medical examiner, the fatal wounds were two gunshots to the head.]
[The killer left the murder weapon at the scene—a .22 caliber gun with its serial number scratched off and no fingerprints on the gun. There were also two other things left at the scene: a baby bottle nipple posing as a suppressor and a jack-o-lantern.]
[No money was stolen from the villa. According to the police, this case appears to be a vendetta. Captain Gordon stated that the key clue lies in the uniquely shaped pumpkin lantern left at the scene.]
Tony stared, shocked, and shakily turned the page of the newspaper. He saw the back was a picture of the jack-o-lantern found at the crime scene.
"Haha, I'm screwed!"
...
"Tony, what happened to the pumpkin you carved yesterday? Did you bring it home?"
"I remember that pumpkin was pretty unique. Why didn't you bring it today?"
Faced with Claude and Bridget's seemingly curious questions, Tony showed an embarrassed yet polite smile.
He really shouldn't have carved the pumpkin inside the restaurant yesterday, and now his coworkers were asking him a lot of questions.
How could he admit that the pumpkin was his?
Even if the investigation led to him, Tony couldn't tell the Falcone family because the person who died was Roman's own nephew.
A few months ago, they even threw a big fancy party to celebrate his nephew's wedding.
It was said that just a few months ago, The Roman had even hosted a banquet for his nephew's wedding.
Sweating profusely, Tony awkwardly smiled and took out a small magical jack-o-lantern.
"No, no, when I was selling jack-o-lanterns or pumpkins yesterday, I realized no one wanted to buy such an ugly jack-o-lantern. See? It's still right here in my hand."
"Oh?"
The others looked closely.
The pumpkin in Tony's hand looked a little different from the one on TV, but it still looked a lot like the ugly pumpkin he carved yesterday, and it was just as ugly.
"But I think both jack-o-lanterns kind of look like something you made."
Lloyd said, stroking his chin. "Their styles are too similar and look strangely ugly."
"Come on, don't judge me! There are so many people in this world, and surely, some of them can't carve pumpkins like me."
Tony shouted with confidence as he saw they were starting to believe him, "It's like I'm the only bad guy in the world, but in reality, I'm a law-abiding citizen."
"According to information provided by the Gotham Police Department, yesterday a fire broke out, and approximately twenty million dollars was burned up stored in a large warehouse. The money was reduced to ashes on Halloween night, and the samples taken from the warehouse confirmed that all the bills were legitimate currency, not counterfeit. However, the source of this enormous amount of money remains a mystery. The police speculate that the funds may be illegal proceeds from a criminal organization and used the warehouse as a cover."
"This also indicates that the criminal organization has been unable to complete their money laundering operations for a significant period, demonstrating the efficiency and reliability of the Gotham Police Department, as well as their deterrent effect on criminal forces."
Captain Gordon stated.
After listening to the news broadcast on TV, Tony's loud shouting gradually quieted down until it disappeared completely.
'That's real… real money? Twenty million?'
"Fu*k!"
Just as he was trying to make sense of the news, Claude slammed his fist hard on the table.
"These damn pigs are pushing people too far! If it weren't for that bank manager, the Falcone Imports company would've already—"
"Claude."
A voice stopped Claude's hysteria. Philip calmly walked into the restaurant and casually turned off the TV.
"Don't be so disrespectful. We still have guests to attend to today, and don't let this kind of thing affect your work."
Claude clenched his teeth and nodded firmly.
"What's the rush? We all know The Roman's money is untouchable. No matter who you are, if you dare challenge the authority of the Falcone family, sooner or later, you'll have to pay the price."
"Mr. Tony Smith, today's matter is just casual chit-chat. I believe you're not the kind of person who likes to gossip, right?"
"Ahahaha, of course, haha, of course."
Tony replied stiffly to the supervisor, his smile more forced than a cry. They thought he was nervous because he had overheard some family news.
'Twenty million? Real money? Falcone's MONEY?'
These three words were really important, but they filled him with shock.
'System! You're setting me up!'
"Tony, are you okay?"
Philip suddenly patted him on the shoulder, "Are you feeling unwell? Do you need to take a day off?"
"Oh, no, no."
He forced a smile as he sent him away, then carefully flipped through the newspaper again, hoping it was a mistake by the Gotham news reporter or that he had misheard the information.
After checking over and over, Tony finally smiled with relief and put down the newspaper.
The weight on his heart was finally lifted.
According to the timeline, the cooperation between the Falcone Imports Company and the Gotham Bank had dragged on for more than half a year.
During this time, the Falcone family's money laundering plan was stuck at the final step.
In other words, this twenty million dollars was all dirty money currently held by the Falcone family, and they're about to clean it through the company.
Not only that, but the Falcone family was most likely collaborating with gangs from other places like New York, Metropolis, and Chicago.
At this critical moment, Tony burning the money wasn't just fighting crime, but it was slapping the Falcone family right in the face.
If one day the Falcone finds out that a nobody named Tony left a mark at his nephew's death scene and also burned twenty million dollars of the family's money, then the residents of Gotham City might get a fireworks show in the East End like a big explosion that blows up people and houses.
...
"I want that little punk dead! I want that sneaky rat and that mysterious mad killer! And the wild arsonist too! I want their heads cut off and hang them on top of Gotham Tower, and throw their bodies on the streets so everyone in Gotham can see what happens when you mess with the Falcone family!"
In a penthouse in Gotham City, The Roman, with three scars on his face, was furious.
This wasn't just the usual temper of the Roman.
He is usually calm and polite and rarely loses his temper at this level.
Today, the Roman's informants spread throughout the city had carefully gathered all clues about the warehouse incident that night but found nothing.
That's why he was so furious because it meant he had no one to take revenge on, and feeling this angry but not knowing where to let it out was something he hadn't felt in a long time.
The Roman only feel this kind of anger when dealing with vigilantes like Batman.
...
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