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Chapter 107-04: Jason's Choice

Chapter 107-04: Jason's Choice

Half a month later, the shockwaves from Maronny's downfall gradually subsided.

The sudden collapse of the behemoth gave many small and medium-sized gangs the opportunity to rise, such as the Irish gang of professional car thieves, the "Eastern Expeditionary Army" established by Maroney's confidants who were unemployed, and the "Fingerless Gang" composed of pickpockets who were missing fingers.

Among them, the "Masked Society," which is based in the East District, is particularly notorious. Their leader is called "Black Mask," a deranged and perverted villain who likes to torture those troublemakers who don't obey him in his territory with "skinning torture."

Due to its cruel nature, it attracted a large number of followers as soon as it was born.

There are many theories about Black Mask's origins. Some say he is a madman who escaped from Arkham, while others say he is the serial killer who disappeared ten years ago. However, most people accept one explanation.

He is Roman Siennis.

The teenager who had set fire to his parents' house and burned them to death made a desperate confession in court, which earned him the unanimous sympathy of the jury. However, the long sentence of fifteen years was not enough to make the devil repent.

Now he's back, having assembled a group of ruthless thugs, ready to launch a brutal revenge against the jury and judge from back then.

And there are many other gangs like this that want to get a share of the spoils from the dead Romans.

Jason ran his fingers through his thick black hair, staring at the stack of documents on the table, somewhat bewildered.

Qin Wei did indeed keep his promise and return the East District to its people, but the situation has not only failed to return to normal as Jason had anticipated, but has instead spiraled completely out of control.

Jason attempted to emulate Joseph by enacting various regulations, but this only accelerated the Red Hood's split.

After losing a large number of members, he found that he no longer had the strong personal charisma and appeal of his predecessor, and the Red Hood gang, stained with the blood of revenge, was no longer as pure as it used to be.

Compared to its former revolutionary organization, it now resembles more of a group of aimless hooligans.

Jason thought of Oswald, who now controls the entire financial district. Yesterday, under the guise of maintaining a friendly relationship, he subtly boasted, "Look how secure my territory is! I can make a fortune just by collecting venue fees!"

It's an undeniable fact that the financial district was more stable than the eastern district, but during Maroni's administration, thieves and swindlers roamed there, and jewelry stores and financial institutions were prime targets for thieves. But now, these people seem to have vanished overnight.

At first, Jason didn't believe Oswald's one-sided story. He swaggered around with a wallet full of banknotes, just to catch a thief and slap him in the face.

But guess what? I shopped from day to night and didn't lose a single penny.

Of course, not everything was lost; Jason lost his wallet once along the way, but a kind citizen quickly caught up and returned the valuables.

The moment Jason received the wallet, his head was spinning.

Damn! You're telling me this is Gotham?

"Of course! That's my wish: a well-ordered country without police, where everyone can do their job." Oswald said to Jason, sitting in Maroni's study with his leg in a cast propped up on the table.

He actually had a better office location, but he used his financial power to buy the mansion at a price far exceeding the market value before the judicial auction.

Although his influence was limited to the Financial District compared to Maroney, who once controlled half of Gotham, he still needed to maintain a certain image and demeanor. His goal was simply to prove to those who had once looked down on him that Oswald was no pushover and that his name would resound throughout Gotham.

"I didn't come here to listen to your bragging. I came here to ask you how you did it!" Jason bit his lower lip, involuntarily clenching his fists in the face of Oswald's arrogant demeanor.

The fundamental conflict between the two has been resolved, but years of grudges have prevented them from letting go of their competitive and rivalry-driven spirit.

"If you beg me, I'll tell you."

Oswald, leaning on Maroni's favorite owl cane, limped up to Jason. Although he was more than half a head shorter than Jason, it didn't stop him from raising his head and looking at the other with his round nostrils.

"Looks like your knee surgery didn't make you feel any pain! What, want to try my jaw-crushing surgery, you damn penguin!"

"What did you call me?!"

"Little penguin!"

The two men simultaneously drew their guns and pressed them against each other's chins.

"That's about it!"

Royce got up from the corner sofa. Ever since discovering Maroni's "cigar warehouse," the guy had given up ten-dollar packs of camels.

Seeing that the two were unmoved, he took the cigar from his mouth and placed it in front of them.

Before long, the two of them were rubbing their eyes because of the smell.

"Uncle Ben! Are you trying to blind me with your stench?" the little penguin complained loudly, tears and snot streaming down his face.

"Hey young man, let's talk!" Royce ignored Oswald's roar, put his arm around Jason's shoulder, and pulled him to the sofa.

"Let me tell you how Oscar did it; it's actually the simplest form of entrapment."

"We send people out on the street with large sums of cash to set up thieves. If any thief dares to steal, we'll catch them and cut off their fingers."

"Can you believe it? I still clearly remember the results of the first day: a total of 322 fingers. One unlucky guy even had three fingers cut off in one day."

Jason's eyebrows were drawn up in a V-shape.

"You must think it's crazy too!" Royce flicked his cigarette ash and continued, "But it worked the next day. The number of fingers dropped to 51, and for the next two days there was zero gain. The thief disappeared!"

"Um—why are you making that face? Why are you holding your head and not saying a word?"

"Let me calm down."

Jason suddenly understood why the "Finger Cutout Gang" in the East District was formed.

"So whose idea was this?!" After digesting this explosive news, Jason just wanted to grab the culprit and kick his ass hard with his boots.

"It was my idea!" Oswald declared loudly, puffing out his chest.

"I discussed this issue with Will when we were still in the Senate, and he said something that really stuck with me: 'In times of chaos, harsh measures are necessary.' That's very relevant to Gotham right now."

Jason remained silent, realizing for the first time that Oswald's words made a lot of sense.

But he didn't want to admit it.

At the same time, a question arose in his mind: if the pickpocket problem was solved, what about those damned swindlers and elusive thieves? Could they also be dealt with by entrapment?

He was too ashamed to ask, so he didn't press the matter. In any case, today's visit had vaguely opened up a new line of thought for him.

Royce warmly invited them to stay for a meal, during which Jason inquired about Qin Wei's situation, but both of them shook their heads, indicating they knew nothing about him.

"The boss has been acting very mysteriously lately!" Royce whispered in Jason's ear.

"I heard that he spent money to renovate the Senate and moved back in, but I visited him several times but couldn't find him, and I couldn't contact him by phone either."

"If you see him in the East District, please give him our regards and tell him that everyone misses him."

After finishing dinner, Jason left Oswald's mansion late at night. He strolled through the empty streets of the financial district with his hands in his pockets.

His conversation with Reus made him vaguely aware of the root of the problem.

He shouldn't blindly imitate Joseph.

The eastern district is now more dilapidated and chaotic than it was five years ago. The Romans have brought a locust plague called "drugs" to this already barren land. Compared to the "resistance" and "cries" of the past, the eastern district now urgently needs "stability" and "development".

Oswald's saying, "In times of chaos, harsh measures are necessary," might be the key to unlocking this path.

Jason had also considered leading the remaining Red Hood members in a deadly battle against the emerging gangs. However, this would result in heavy losses for the Red Hood, which would risk disintegration. Currently, these gangs are relatively well-behaved because of Jason, but once the organization disintegrates, who will be able to suppress those restless individuals?

Jason frowned in thought when suddenly a loud horn blared behind him.

"Hey kid, are you blind?!"

Jason had just moved aside when the gray-green convertible scooter brushed past his elbow as it crossed the street. The leader of the group pulled off his stockings and spat arrogantly at Jason.

"Wuhu!!!"

The engine roar, accompanied by arrogant shouts, faded into the distance.

To better manage the financial district, Oswald established an 11 p.m. curfew and set up detour signs at several entrances to the financial district.

The fact that they dared to drive recklessly at this time, while wearing hoods, makes their identities obvious.

A series of gunshots rang out at the street corner. Jason drew his gun and went forward. He had witnessed what the guys were doing from the corner.

Sweeping open the glass windows of the jewelry store at the street corner and melting down the iron bars with a blowtorch, four masked thugs sneaked into the store despite the piercing alarm.

The problems in the financial district have never been fundamentally resolved.

Jason put on the red hood, determined to teach these bastards a lesson for the spit he'd just received, and for the sake of his allies.

Since the other party was armed, Jason did not act rashly. He first sent a message to Royce, and then sneaked to the car while the guys were ransacking the place.

Jason leaned against the car, pulled out a crowbar, and poked it into the gap between the tire and the rim.

Phew!

The front wheel went down.

He then used the same method to destroy the rear wheel.

Imagine what might happen next: a few unlucky guys carrying jewels jump onto the car, step on the gas, only to crash into a concrete wall, and are then tricked by the belated Romans who twist their arms one by one.

Jason's idea was brilliant, but little did he know that as he deflated the tires, a dark shadow silently slipped through a gap in the security bars and into the jewelry store.

Boom!

A short, muffled thud, like a piece of pork falling from a height after the butcher cuts its rope.

Duang!

Then came the sound of hard objects colliding.

If the first sound was too faint, the second strange noise finally caught Jason's attention. He poked his head out and saw a vague figure flash past from the shadows.

boom!

After a brief burst of gunfire, the jewelry store fell silent again.

"Damn it, who is this guy?"

Jason felt he hadn't misread it; in the fleeting light, he vaguely saw a blurry black shadow punch and shatter the jawbone of the gun-wielding thug.