[3rd POV]
"Bang!"
"You little bastard! Now you know how to talk in Gotham!"
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
"You old geezer, you're not the only one with a gun in Gotham!"
After watching the two bus drivers start shooting at each other without any hesitation, the passengers inside the buses quickly and skillfully climbed out of the windows, each finding a safe spot.
The unlucky ones hit by stray bullets took cover and drew their guns to join the fight while those unharmed quietly waited for the gunfight to end.
Tony couldn't help but be moved to tears by this lively and bustling scene, "Drake, if you want me dead, just say it straight, bastard. There's no need to beat around the bush like this."
"This bus is the fastest and safest one you can catch in the East End."
Drake shook his head, "If you take any other bus, you'll either get stuck behind a bus holding a gun during traffic jams or have your wallet stolen inside the bus, or even worse, every week someone gets groped on a bus or simply goes missing when they get off."
While Drake was talking non-stop, a bullet suddenly flew by and hit the concrete right next to Tony, making his pounding heart jump even higher.
'Am I really going to get shot in a place like this?'
Drake gave him a proud smile and said.
"This bus isn't like any other bus because most of the people on it are here for revenge. They come here when people have a grudge but can't deal with it the usual way."
"It could be something small—maybe I stole your customer, sold you something fake, or we bumped into each other on the street. The reason doesn't matter because deep down we know those aren't the real reasons we're mad. However, we're just so angry we can't hold it in anymore."
"No matter what the reason is, if you can't fight right away, you come here to settle it. This is a bus full of dangerous people. You can easily get a cheap weapon here. Everyone on board has nothing left—just a hard life and a lot of problems."
"So, we pull out our guns and fight with one wins, one loses but one lives, annd one dies. The one who dies gets thrown into the sea, and it's over. The one who lives feels a bit better, then goes back to their difficult life like nothing happened."
"So unless some lunatic decides they really don't like us and chases us down, we won't get into trouble since we're just here for the ride. And this spot I picked? It's the best! You can see what's going on, but you're hidden well enough that no one notices you. You can watch the action, stay out of danger, and get back to the bus quickly when it's over."
"I've been hiding here for six whole months. The worst thing that happened to me? I ran too fast once and twisted my ankle."
As he listened to him explain all this, Tony couldn't help but be impressed.
Drake had only been in Gotham for a year, but he already seemed adapted, smart, calm, and super good at surviving.
"Bang!"
A bullet hit the ground right next to Tony's foot, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Hey, you over there! Yeah, you little punks! I've been watching you for a long time! You've been riding this bus for six months and just sitting there like it's some kind of show? Do you think our fight is fun? You come out and fight. I'm going to beat you to death today."
"...Huh?"
Tonny looked at Drake, then listened to the angry shouting from far away. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure he wanted to be friends with this man anymore.
"This is what you called safe?"
"How was I supposed to know some lunatic would ride the bus for six months just to get revenge on me? I've been laying low this whole time!"
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
Two more bullets flew by, and Tony felt like his heart was about to jump right out of his throat.
"Stop talking and do something already!"
Drake quickly looked around.
This hiding spot was great in every way, except there wasn't an easy way out.
If they wanted to escape and run into the other streets, they'd have to step right into the area where the shooter could see them.
It would take about three or four seconds, and that was enough time to get shot.
But instead of panicking, Drake stayed super calm, and facing danger made his brain even sharper.
He kept thinking over and over about how to run, what might happen, and the best way to move so they wouldn't get hurt. He was like a real-life John Wick or Agent 47 from the video games.
There's no fear, just pure focus.
"Don't be scared,"
Drake said calmly, "I'll get you out of here."
He sounded so chill, like they weren't being shot at in the middle of dangerous Gotham but just having a quiet chat on a busy street in Metropolis.
Drake imagined himself quickly rolling behind the bus, then standing up and using the engine to block the bullets.
While the shooter was reloading, Drake would dash out, leap behind a trash can, then crouch and sprint forward.
He'd crash through the door of a bookstore across the street, jump out of a second-floor window, roll when he hit the ground, and disappear before anyone could stop him.
Even if they fired a bunch of bullets in anger, they would just flash right past his serious face, and none would even scratch him.
"Watch me,"
Drake said calmly.
He smiled a little and took off one of his shoes. Then, he quickly waved it around the corner.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
Looking at the two new holes punched in his leather shoe, Drake calmly slipped it back onto his foot.
"You coward! Come out if you're not scared!"
"Bang!"
"Haha! Too scared to show your face? Come on, let's see whose gun is tougher!"
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
Tony looked at Drake with confusion, "Uh… what are you doing? Weren't you gonna do something? Didn't you say you had a plan?"
Drake gave an awkward but polite smile.
"Yeah, about that... I think staying here might actually be safer."
He glanced out nervously, "It turns out that guy's aim is way better than I expected. If we followed the plan, we'd probably get shot the moment we stepped out."
Tony felt really dumb.
'I only knew Drake had lived in Gotham for a year and could find a safe way to get me a job and get me to work alive. I didn't know he was so funny or that he'd attract so much trouble.
"Did you seriously never think that someone who's survived on this crazy bus for six whole months would probably be really good at shooting?!"
"Stop yelling, and help me think of something!"
Drake snapped.
"You're the real Gothamites! You're registered here!"
"I've never even met my parents!"
Just as the two of them kept arguing, Tony suddenly noticed someone standing on a nearby rooftop.
It was a woman dressed in all black, watching them with a smile on her face—sly and calm that looked like a cat's.
...
Selina normally wouldn't show herself during the day—after all, cats are nocturnal creatures.
Every now and then, she'd visit Gotham's train station to see if any big spenders or suckers dared to stroll the city streets carrying large sums of wealth.
She sometimes goes to the Gotham train station to look around. She wants to see if there are any rich or people carrying lots of money walking on the streets.
Just yesterday, she saw a young man get off at the station, his eyes were clear, but he looked lost and confused.
He seemed very careful but also made a lot of mistakes. He looked poor and like he didn't belong in the city.
He might have heard stories about Gotham or seen how people act there on the train, but he still came here with no money and no idea what to do.
Selina grew up in the ruthless East End, so she could see through a person like him at a glance.
He had neither the guts to fight nor the ambition to set things right. He was just like a lost puppy with no home.
What could he possibly do by coming to Gotham?
Get a job?
Even though his presence puzzled her, Selina still casually gave him a small warning.
She took out the only thing he had on him, a driver's license, from his jacket pocket, glanced at it, and then slipped it back into his pants pocket.
To be honest, later that night, when she was stealing, she felt a bit of pity.
She was so surprised that someone could be that poor and have nothing at all that she forgot to put some money in his pocket.
So when Selina saw Tony on the street today, she was a little surprised.
After all, the night before, she'd roamed the alleys and streets of Gotham's East End and only came across two gang members' corpses.
She had expected that any outsider spotted at the train station would have been dealt with long ago, leaving no trace behind.
However, this guy seemed to have found a place to stay on his very first night here and even made a friend.
The hat and scarf he wore were old but not dirty or torn. He looked healthy, and his clothes were clean.
That means he was sleeping somewhere safe, like a shelter with a real bed, not on a dirty floor in an old, broken building.
Moreover, he had a gun in his hand, and there was a man with him who helped him get on the bus and find a place to stay.
It was clear these two were really good friends, and the man was helping him a lot, even though he had no money.
Selina could tell right away that the man wasn't a local Gotham resident. Looking at the way they acted, the man really trusted him.
'Maybe they were brothers who hadn't seen each other for a long time?'
Scratching her chin with interest, Selina stood on the rooftop, watching the two hiding in a corner.
The poor guy from the train station looked really normal and super unlucky.
She couldn't figure out how such a harmless, broke guy ended up with such an angry, scary shooter.
'Yeah, what's going on here?'
Tony was thinking about the same question.
"You think if I pushed you out there, would he spare me?"
"That depends on his anger. Old Jack probably doesn't spare anyone. After all, everyone knows that fighting is fun."
"Well, I think there's still hope. He seems to have a bit of reasonable."
"Is that so?"
Drake turned his head and started cursing loudly outside the corner, "You're so bad you can't even hit my old shoe with your gun. My brother says your gun is worse than his when he was three! At least when he missed, the bullets would still hit someone! You better stop using guns and go home to practice pistol shooting!"
After yelling, Drake pulled his head back from the corner and gave Tony a proud smile.
"Now, he probably doesn't have much reason left."