Chapter 2365: Gotham Music Festival (67)_1

Beihan spent the entire night going over the email that Shiller had sent.

The content of the email was not lengthy, nor did it contain any verbose arguments that were hard to understand, but it included some design diagrams and mind maps, each part of which held an immense amount of information, leading Beihan to create a document and write a copious amount of notes.

As dawn just started to break, this perpetually gloomy city only saw some sunlight during sunrise and sunset, the fourth cup of coffee on the desk was slightly cold, and the handsome young man finally lifted his head, stretched, and yawned.

Dingling, the phone that was thrown aside rang, Beihan picked it up and said with some drowsiness, "Hello, this is Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce, are you free right now?" The voice of Beihan's good friend Rachel came from the other end, pronounced with evident exhaustion. It seemed like there was another person in the background, but it was unclear what he was saying.

"I've just finished up. If you have something, come to my office. You know the code."

Not even 20 minutes had passed when there was a knock on the door. Beihan put away the strategic plan he had just organized, walked over and opened the door, and Rachel's weary face appeared outside.

Surprisingly, she was followed by Harvey. Beihan certainly hadn't expected Harvey to come, and he greeted Harvey with a smile and a hug, saying, "How does our busy lawyer find the time to come by this early?"

"He was summoned by me," Rachel said, her voice somewhat hoarse, "It's about the bank robbery on Central Street. The inspection reports from the victims' families have piled up on my desk."

"Victims? I heard that apart from two tellers, those who died were all robbers, right? It seems there was an internal conflict…" Beihan said, puzzled as he closed the door.

"That's exactly the problem," Rachel sighed deeply and said, "It's a matter of human rights. In this country, even criminals should have their right to life protected before a fair trial."

"Usually, we turn a blind eye to such matters, and the victims' families don't make a fuss. But this time, it's different; someone is stirring things up from behind the scenes."

"For what purpose?" Beihan inquired.

"To cover up other illegal and criminal activities." Rachel walked over and placed a folder on the table, "We were all set to prosecute Falcone, having collected plenty of evidence of his involvement in large-scale drug trafficking. Then suddenly, this case pops up. Who do you think is behind it?"

"But families protesting should go to the police station, not the district attorney's office. You're part of the litigation department, not law enforcement. It's only after the arrest that it becomes your job to deal with the culprits."

"Didn't you know?" Rachel asked, looking puzzled at Beihan, "The culprit has already been apprehended."

Beihan was taken aback; he had indeed just come back and hadn't watched the news. But previous reports suggested that the criminal was a leader of a large crime syndicate. How could he have been captured so easily?

At that moment, Harvey stepped forward to explain. He said, "The previous information was incorrect. This guy didn't really have an organization, he just rallied a mob, led them to rob the bank, and told them that the less people who survived, the more money there would be to split, leading to their internal strife and his own escape."

"But he wasn't very clever because the case was so high-profile that the police, with all hands on deck, quickly captured him inside an abandoned factory."

Beihan furrowed his brows, feeling that the matter wasn't as straightforward as it seemed. He looked at Harvey and asked, "Who is the culprit?"

"He calls himself Joker."

A chill went down Beihan's spine.

"He's a madman," Rachel said with annoyance, "He disfigured his own face using chemicals and cut the corners of his mouth. He responds with crazy laughter to anything you ask; he's driving us all mad."

Beihan could relate; he looked at Rachel and said, "You can't pin his crimes on him, can you? Because he's a mental patient."

Rachel was somewhat surprised and responded, "How did you know? The pressure we're facing comes from this very issue. Someone is inciting the families of the Central Street bank robbery victims to protest, saying we can't easily deem this guy a mental patient and demand he be held accountable for all the deaths in the robbery."

"But you will inevitably conclude he's a mental patient," Beihan said, "because all our qualified psychologists have been bought off."

Rachel and Harvey didn't look pleased by Beihan's bluntness, and all three knew very well who had bribed the psychologists.

"This will result in the district attorney's office reputation plummeting even further," Rachel said, arms dropping by her side. "That's Falcone's goal, to completely undermine our credibility, so that no one will believe anything we say anymore."

"By the time we prosecute him, he'll walk free with ease, using the same tactic. If we pursue it, he can use public opinion against us, and we will be the ones falsely accusing the innocent."

Beihan also reflected regretfully; people without moral boundaries conjure all sorts of schemes when doing evil, employing every means to attack their opponents, while those who follow justice always seem handicapped by the rules.

Even though I knew that the results of the psychiatric evaluations were incorrect and unfair, solely a tool for criminals to escape justice, I still had to follow the process and watch helplessly as criminals got away.

What Beihan was feeling now was no longer anger, but powerlessness. The alarm bell of his emotional sensor rang at this moment; if this continued, one day he too would become numb to it, and then the city would truly be beyond salvation.

He had to do something, regardless of whether it would be beneficial to his long-term goals. He needed to make some progress to vent the frustrations and grievances accumulated over time, to give himself the motivation to keep going.

Beihan turned his head and saw the proposal that he had placed on the other side of his desk, then glanced at the expressions of helplessness and indignation on the faces of his two closest friends. Beihan sighed quietly in his heart and made a decision.

"I'm planning to acquire Arkham Insane Asylum."

Rachel and Harvey, who were in the middle of a conversation, both turned their heads to stare blankly at Beihan who, with his eyes cast down, said, "The insane asylum is too old and can no longer meet the mental health treatment needs of Gothamites. I'm planning to transform it into a modern psychiatric hospital like Wayne Hospital. It might need a little preparation time."

"What?" Rachel asked incredulously, "What are you doing? Acquiring Arkham Insane Asylum, have you lost your mind?"

"It's just a business investment," Beihan said without wavering. "You both should understand that my financial situation isn't as good as many people imagine, especially my personal financial status, which needs some improvement. I think this is a good investment."

"Are you serious?" Harvey came over and said, "You know that place is more than just an insane asylum."

"Yes, but I will make it the best psychiatric hospital," Beihan said, taking a deep breath and recalling the design in his mind, "Advanced, safe, providing the cure for the disease."

Click, the camera closest to Beihan captured his resolute face, and his clear and firm voice transmitted through the microphone until it was broadcast on countless screens and into peoples' ears.

Major media outlets competed to report the story, as Wayne Enterprises' business strategies and future plans were closely linked to the livelihood of the city and even the entire East Coast.

No one knew which direction the young heir of the Wayne Family would lead this massive company. In his first press conference, he emphasized that Wayne Enterprises would reinvest in charity, especially increasing research and development in the medicinal field and improving strategies for public healthcare.

Most people were skeptical; although Wayne Enterprises covered a wide range of services, it was seldom praised in the medicinal sector.

The hospitals of Wayne Enterprises were indeed decent, but they had little relevance to the average person. The medical insurance covering Wayne Hospital was too expensive even for average middle-class families—it was a playground for the rich.

Yet, some believed this signaled Wayne Enterprises' intention to open affordable private hospitals for the general public; however, they still doubted whether this investment direction could bring sufficient profit for the company, including the shareholders.

The shareholders' meeting, unusually, lasted seven hours, with the majority of the time spent discussing whether Bruce Wayne's new direction for the company could ensure stable returns or even achieve growth.

Beihan stood at the forefront of the shareholder meeting hall and said to everyone, "I am very aware of the doubts you all have about the company growth strategy I have set. I fully understand; this is a new attempt for all of us."

"However, I am not making this turn without preparation. In fact, the initial investments will be personally funded by me to test the market direction. If the model doesn't work, I will cut the losses in time and never allow my parents' hard work to fall into the abyss."

The murmuring in the audience quieted down a bit, and more people were guessing why Little Wayne was taking this path, even with his personal investment to explore. Could it be that he really saw some business opportunities that ordinary people couldn't see?

In any case, Beihan persisted with his strategy, and after reallocating nearly all the liquid funds he could from his personal assets, the acquisition of Arkham Insane Asylum went without a hitch.

On one hand, Beihan indeed did not have this type of asset, so he didn't need to undergo an antitrust investigation. On the other, some shareholders who supported Wayne also helped, doing the dirty work that Beihan was unwilling to do and clearing many hurdles.

After a night of cold rain ceased, a vigorous renovation began inside Arkham Insane Asylum - building refurbishments, defense installations, staff replacements. This old insane asylum, which had weathered the storm alongside Gotham, inevitably embarked on the path of modernization.

Beihan lifted his hand after signing the acquisition document, his gaze falling on his signature. The fancy English script slowly twisted as his other hand picked up the pen. The doctor in a white lab coat pushed the documents in his hand forward and said.

"All the assessment reports are here. Without a doubt, Mr. Falcone and this... um, Mr. Joke, both suffer from mental illness. They are psychiatric patients who couldn't control their own actions during an episode, leading to aggressive behavior."

The psychologist pushed his glasses up and crossed his hands, saying, "I regret the incident occurred, but if possible, I would prefer to discuss the coverage of our healthcare system and peoples' understanding of psychology and psychiatric disorders."

Rachel took a deep breath and said, "Thank you, Doctor. I should be going."

The doctor smiled and nodded at her. The instant Rachel turned away, her expression turned icy cold. She clutched the assessment report in her hand so tightly it nearly reached the point of destroying the document.

But God knows how much anger she suppressed to prevent herself from actually destroying the document. She knew it would turn out like this. As Rachel stepped into the elevator, she closed her eyes tightly.

On the last few lines of the assessment report that she was clutching, it was written, "Patients with acute psychiatric disorders leading to hallucinations and delusional symptoms often display aggressive behavior uncontrollably, and the treatment recommendation is hospitalization."