"Partially, yes. It certainly started because of them." Bruce Wayne shook his head regretfully. "More importantly, it's the city itself. Traditional industries and manufacturing declined with technological progress and globalization. The city failed to transform, jobs were lost, and the gap between rich and poor widened. Insufficient social welfare, and failures in education and psychological support, all contributed to the rise in crime. And the increase in crime, in turn, exacerbated the situation, making crime a part of Gotham's culture. People have become numb to crime's existence and accustomed to it."
Qingshui knew that both Bruce Wayne and Batman, the person beside him, were trying to save Gotham through their two identities. He was using Wayne Enterprises to drive Gotham's transformation, fund education, and create more jobs. It had an effect, but no matter how big the impact, it was useless. Even the largest waves on the surface of the ocean have no effect below the waterline. To change this city, you first had to change the people in it. Change their way of thinking, make them discard the negative aspects of the culture passed down in this land, and then pick up the truly essential parts. Only then could the city regain its vitality. But for many, simply surviving took all their effort. Where would they find the time to care about such things? Yet, if the city didn't change, their current situation wouldn't change either. They worked hard for the bread that would fill their stomachs tomorrow.
As for the powerful elite, while most weren't good people, there were some who were decent. But Gotham's history was never written by them. Only by uniting the strength of all the people could history be written and the present rewritten. Gotham seemed to be caught in a vicious cycle. Even Batman, a man of profound wisdom and strategy, couldn't change it in a short time. This might not be something one generation could accomplish; it could take decades, even a century, to change. No wonder some people always thought about simply destroying Gotham and rebuilding it; that would be much easier.
"You don't need to worry too much. I've noticed you people always like to shoulder everything yourselves. Each generation has its own mission; we just need to do what we're supposed to," Qingshui said to Bruce Wayne after checking the time.
"Watt, I don't distrust future generations," Bruce Wayne said, looking at Qingshui.
No, you don't trust anyone. You don't even trust yourself, Qingshui silently grumbled in his mind.
"Just as you said, each generation has its own mission, and future generations have their own missions. Otherwise, it will be like Gotham's past, leaving us with countless historical problems. If I could, I'd wish to do three generations' worth of work by myself." Qingshui gave Bruce Wayne a deep look and picked up his cup. "Good luck."
"No, good luck to us." Bruce Wayne and Qingshui clinked glasses.
The former would give everything to save Gotham from crime. The latter didn't consider himself to have such noble character, but he also didn't think he was a scumbag. He had his own values and was willing to do good deeds within his capabilities. At least the power he now wielded in Gotham was immense. As long as he was willing to act, even a little, there would always be some reward. The prerequisite was that it wouldn't interfere with what he wanted to do.
"Also, there's something I need to tell you." Before leaving, Bruce Wayne left Qingshui with a message. "I found out about the things you've been doing. You need to stop soon, or retaliation will come quickly."
Qingshui watched Bruce Wayne get into his Lamborghini, a slight frown on his brow. He knew what Bruce Wayne meant. When the Kryptonians arrived, a congressional meeting voted to approve dropping a nuclear bomb on Metropolis. Qingshui never liked to hold grudges overnight. That same evening, he sent out a Shadow Clone, and using intelligence from the League of Assassins and Lex Luthor, he assassinated several congressmen who had submitted requests to drop the nuclear bomb. From some of them, he interrogated others involved. Some were killed, some hid well, and Qingshui couldn't find them, so he didn't kill them for the time being. They wanted to reconcile, but Qingshui didn't give them the chance. You wanted to kill me, so why reconcile now?
It seemed these people were scared now, living in constant fear. He just didn't know what kind of reaction they would have. Given their status and resources, it would only take some effort for them to find out that he was the "War Warrior" Superman spoke of. Qingshui wasn't particularly afraid. His position in Gotham, working with Bruce Wayne, was already very stable. He could be considered a local power, and forces outside Gotham would find it difficult to affect his base.
Qingshui, on the other hand, felt a sense of anticipation.
Once these people made a move, they would inevitably leave traces and create opportunities.
As for the other powerful figures...
After that incident, fearing they might also die mysteriously in various "accidents," they had long since cut ties. They wouldn't easily get involved until the outcome of the power struggle was clear.
They would only side with the winner.
After the dinner, Qingshui got into his car and returned to Watt Tower.
He usually lived and worked there.
Unlike other bosses who lived at their companies, he stayed there simply because his own lab was in Watt Tower, making it convenient for him to create and improve Puppets and delve into his research.
Moreover, after long-term management, the security level here was very high.
Not only were there security personnel patrolling outside 24/7, but some critical internal locations were also sealed with Sealing Jutsu.
"Hiss..."
As the seal was released, a steel coffin opened, emitting a large plume of cold air.
Inside lay a corpse.
A Kryptonian corpse.
This Kryptonian was named Nam-Ek, and he had died at Qingshui's hand. There was still a hole in his head, made by a Kryptonite dagger, and various instrument interfaces were connected to his body.
Current cell activity: 87%.
Qingshui's gaze shifted from the display showing the data. He placed his palm, emitting a faint green glow, onto Nam-Ek's body, and began to use Transparent World in conjunction with Medical Ninjutsu to perceive Nam-Ek's precise condition.
Not bad.
Thanks to the technology obtained from Mr. Freeze, after returning from the battle in Metropolis that day, Qingshui had frozen Nam-Ek's body, just as Victor had once frozen Nora.
Nam-Ek's brain was already dead, but because he was frozen in time, the corpse was still very fresh, and the cell activity in his body was relatively well preserved.
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