Chapter 778: Deadly Joke (Part Five)_2

So, he planned to live in the slums for a month or two to see what was really going on here.

However, he didn't rent a place himself because he didn't know where to look, and if he rented a place in the name of Bruce Wayne, he would inevitably end up with a luxury apartment. After all, no rental agency would dare to rent a slum to Wayne.

At this moment, Bruce thought of Selina, who had decided to leave on short notice. Her lease should still be valid, so he could borrow her place for a while. As he expected, there was plenty of time left on the lease.

But the only issue was, Selina left too many old things here, making Bruce feel uncomfortable. It's not just Selina who can't get out of here quickly, Bruce can't either.

He loved Catwoman deeply. She was mysterious yet passionate. Many times, Bruce would wonder. What kind of environment had Selina grown up in to shape such a multifaceted and charismatic personality?

After seeing Maggie off, Bruce continued to organize the room. Aside from making space for his own life, he also wanted to see Selina's usual living conditions.

The apartment was well located in the East District near downtown, but its orientation wasn't ideal. Both the bedroom and the living room windows faced east and only got good light for a brief period around three in the afternoon.

The one-bedroom apartment was simple. The entrance led to a small living room, the bedroom was on the left and a small bathroom was further in. Surprisingly, there was a small balcony in the living room for drying clothes. Although without a kitchen, it still had complete living facilities.

However, Bruce had never stayed in such a small room. Standing in the centre of this small living room, he felt like he could touch the walls just by stretching out his hand. How was this different from being in prison?

He thought Selina might have rented this small apartment because she was petite. He was almost 8 inches taller than Selina, and their body sizes were very different, so it was normal for him to feel uncomfortable.

On the balcony, Bruce looked down, seeing the rows of low houses closely spaced together. He wondered if they could even see the sun. Well, getting sunlight was the least important residential condition in Gotham, as there was no sun here in the first place.

Just as Bruce was about to go back inside, there was a noise from the balcony above. Instinctively, he hid to the side, only to hear the sound of vomiting as the contents fell onto his balcony rail.

Looking up, he saw a drunk man leaning over the balcony vomiting with a bottle in his hand. Unsteady, the man dropped the bottle, which shattered on the railing, and the pieces fell to Bruce's feet.

Bruce was about to say something, but the drunk man started cursing loudly. Bruce hadn't heard many of the words before, but it didn't prevent him from realizing that the man seemed to be cursing him.

The education Bruce received growing up was that if a dog bites you, you can't bite back. You can seek compensation from the dog's owner or call the shelter to take it away. There's no need to stoop to the dog's level.

So, Bruce just looked at the drunk man for a while and then went back inside.

But as he was cleaning up the living room, he heard a bang coming from outside the window. When he went out again with his broom, he found that a large bag of rubbish had been thrown onto his balcony. The contents had spilled out due to the impact, emitting a foul smell.

As Bruce looked up, the drunk man laughed at him, making an insulting gesture with his hand. When Bruce reached for his waist, he discovered he didn't bring his gun.

He had come here alone without his Batman gear, without any weapons, not even money. With that thought, Bruce decided he had no time to dispute with this man. There were more important things to do.

Fortunately, the drunk man seemed too intoxicated and lay down on the balcony, falling asleep. Bruce returned to the living room and continued to clean up.

Under the sofa cushion, he found some money, about 20 US Dollars. He found the front door key at the bottom of a wardrobe and another key under the carpet.

More importantly, he found a small lady's pistol in a secret compartment in the TV stand. It was the kind of pistol that could fit in a very delicate handbag. Of course, it was much less powerful than a regular pistol. You would have to be very close, preferably with the gun held to someone's head, to kill them.

As Bruce examined this exquisite little gun, he thought that, at least now, he had a weapon. With his skills, basic safety was assured.

Sitting on the sofa, Bruce looked at what he now owned. Firstly, he had 20 US dollars, a small pistol, two front door keys, an ink bottle, and some clothes that Selina didn't have time to take with her. That was all.

Bruce looked at the 20 dollars first. He had no concept of the cost of living in the slums and didn't know how much he could buy with 20 dollars. He made a rough comparison with his own spending habit and figured that if he didn't start making money soon, he was going to starve that day.

After all, the least he would spend in a restaurant was over a thousand US dollars, not to mention the tips for the waitstaffs which were more than this. He wasn't even sure if this money could buy a handful of vegetables.

Living here for one or two months was not as easy as living for one or two days. He had to maintain a sufficient intake of carbohydrates, fats and vitamin C to have a normal life. Bruce's goal was to see how hard it really was to survive in the slums.

After some thought, Bruce decided he needed to sort out dinner first. Although he could cook, there was no kitchen in this apartment. What did Selina normally eat? She couldn't have bought prepared meals every day, could she?

Taking his few belongings, Bruce left the room, locked the door, and headed downstairs.

Just then, he smelled a delicious aroma. Following the scent, he looked towards the window at the end of the hallway, where he found an outdoor kitchen set up on a second-floor terrace.

A plump Asian woman was cooking there. Bruce thought for a moment, then walked down the stairs to her side.

When she saw the stranger, the middle-aged woman became alert, reaching for something in her bag. Bruce immediately raised his hand, saying, "Don't pull a gun. I mean no harm. I'm Selina's boyfriend. I have just moved here. I want to know if everyone usually cooks here?"

"Selina? The young woman who lives on the sixth floor?" The middle-aged woman looked Bruce up and down and asked, "Why would you live here? You don't seem to be a local…"

"Er, I've had some issues, so…"

"Oh, I see. You must have pissed off the mob in your area. Quite a few people who owed money lived here." She put down her spatula and told him, "Yes, this is the kitchen. You can cook here. But remember to clean up."

Having said that, she took the dish she had just cooked and left. Bruce looked around and noticed a thick layer of grease on the stove and utensils. Just seeing this killed his appetite.