Chapter 1236: The Farm of Justice (Eighteen)_2

The consequences of overprotection are not only the child's inability to be independent, but also the parents' hesitation to let go. Thomas did not trust Bruce.

There are parents in this world who spend their entire lives in anxiety, always worrying about their children's well-being, even to the point of their death from their constant efforts for their offspring.

Thomas took a deep breath and forced himself to stand up. He looked at Moray and said, "Take me back to the company. Bring me all the newspapers, political magazines, and news records from the past half year, especially the sections on international affairs and local happenings in Gotham."

Moray quickly carried out his orders. Over the next two days, Thomas began to catch up on the general knowledge of this cosmos; and indeed, there were many aspects of it that went beyond Thomas's understanding.

For instance, that distant major power was still struggling for survival, or America was on the brink of chaos, or Gotham's booming tourism and gaming industries, and most prominently, the heavily dramatized Gotham reconstruction project.

Thomas, brows furrowed, looked at the images of the Gotham reconstruction project on the front page of the Gotham Daily. He said to Moray, "Prepare the car, I want to go see it in person."

In not too long, the car arrived downstairs. Thomas got in the car and headed towards the completed East Gotham redevelopment project.

Soon, the car arrived in the east district where the reconstruction was still underway. The residential renovation work had slowed down and was mainly focused on increasing infrastructure. All of the renovated apartment buildings had a 100% occupancy rate, so, despite the ongoing construction, people were still around in considerable numbers.

When Thomas stepped out of the car, he instinctively looked up at the appearance of the buildings. If observed from a distance, the renovated buildings wouldn't appear particularly special. At most, one might notice the abundant greenery on the balconies between them – a common sight in many Italian neighborhoods.

However, upon closer examination, he could discern numerous subtleties. First, all of the buildings in the fourth phase of the reconstruction project were interconnected. Many areas that looked like open balconies were enclosed within the architecture, resembling greenhouses made of glass.

The buildings were not exceedingly tall and didn't classify as skyscrapers, but because all of them were linked together, they had another kind of impact, as if they formed a separate world on their own.

The people and the plants living within it seemed so tiny, like residual bits within the mouth of a steel behemoth. They emitted a kind of decadent but ethereal beauty, filled with people's fantasies of the apocalypse.

On a closer look, one could see the high-tech weapons fixed to the walls, the cold lights emitted by patrolling drones, and the dazzling white light produced by the automatically rotating searchlight. The extremely modern style was like a splash of cold water that doused all fantasies.

Apart from this, the glittering, dreamlike neon signs and Gotham's traditional Gothic patterns retained on the building's stone parts lent an air of peculiarity and enchantment, as if one had fallen into a dream muddled with the past and the future.

Thomas slowly stepped into this dream. The weapons ignored him, the bright lights did not illuminate him, so he kept moving forward, stepping into the gloom. But the moment he entered the building, the surroundings abruptly brightened up.

To his surprise, it wasn't crowded at all. The building's walls were incredibly thin, not taking up much space. With reasonable architectural structure and plenty of windows letting in light, the space seemed even more expansive.

There wasn't much to say about the structure of the residences. It was more like a hotel than a mansion or an apartment building. The only difference was that every floor had at least one large balcony. Most balconies were enclosed on two sides with the remaining being made up of transparent glass walls, much like a sunroom.

All the other small balconies were gardens filled with plants. Only a narrow path wound through them. After traversing the initial reception hall and taking the elevator upstairs, only then could people be seen.

What surprised Thomas the most was that, the majority of the residents didn't show any violent reaction to his presence, a stranger, in their living area. They merely gave Thomas a puzzled look, then went about their own lives.

Of course, this would not be too surprising in any other city in the world, but this was Gotham.

This is a place where armed mobs and insane bombers could emerge at any time. Thomas had visited the East District in his early years when the crime was not so rampant, but even then, no citizen would slacken their vigilance to such an extent.

Then Thomas took the elevator to the higher floors, to his surprise, he found a school here.

It was a bona fide school, not a school for nobles. The students here were not the wealthy young masters and misses from the South District but genuine children from ordinary families in the East District.

Thomas did not go in, he just stood outside the door and sneaked a peek inside, filled with a bit of guilt, and a bit of fortuity.

The old hand clutching the door frame started trembling slightly. The old man who had experienced so much and endured all the miserable hardships in the world, his tight-lipped smile and the slight redness in his eyes were all telling of what he saw. It was the best blessing in the world, and also the vilest curse. Its name is "hope".

Thomas clenched his hand into a fist and forcibly lowered it to the door frame, but he softened it upon touching the building's surface. By the time his palm reached the wood grain, it was as gentle as stroking a lover's hair.

Thomas paused for a moment, then fast-walked towards the elevator, rode the elevator down, and left the building with large strides. He got in the car and returned to Wayne building at maximum speed.

When he sat down in his office chair, Thomas was breathing heavily with a grimacing face, and then slowly closed his eyes. Each wrinkle from the corner of his eye to his lips told of his struggles.

Loss of a child, loss of a wife, and exile. The arduous path he took in most of his life is like sinking halfway into quicksand in a whirlpool. This type of despair cannot be understood without experience.

When the most miserable tragedies in the world all pile on one person, there is no will that cannot be destroyed, no hope that cannot be extinguished.

Many images flashed before Thomas's eyes; Bruce's gaze at him, the doctor's warning, the focused expressions of the kids in the East District...

In the face of suffering, the wise should learn to give up early. Yet, in this world, there is a group of fools whose pride won't be broken by numerous blows and whose inner fire can't be extinguished by countless cold showers. Ten thousand hardships, but their blood remains hot.

When this old Batman opened his eyes again, it was as if he had made an important decision and exhaled a long breath.

In an instant, the fragments of the international situation flashed in Thomas's mind, shattered into fine points of light, and intertwined into numerous complex lines.

Thomas tapped lightly on the table with his fingers, then asked Moray with a straight face, "Is General Abbs still alive?"

"You mean, the Army General you knew in the early years? He's still alive and has been promoted to a full General," Moray replied.

Thomas took a deep breath. His eyes were icy cold like a crocodile about to shed tears. When this shrewd capitalist giant spoke, his deep voice sounded like sharp teeth grinding flesh.

"Contact Mexico, Wayne Enterprises is willing to provide international aid to the new democratic warriors in Guadalajara."

"Tell General Abbs, next year's military expenditure will increase by 50%, Wayne wants 70%."