Robbery

After the chaotic incident last time, Jack was convinced that whether he mentally planted flags or boldly shouted them out, it made little difference. So, he made a resolution – no more overthinking.

As he snapped back to reality, Jack found himself on a bustling street. Passersby hurried past, oblivious to the fact that he had just materialized out of nowhere. It was as if being spontaneously transported to the sidewalk was an everyday occurrence.

Eyeing the police station in front of him, Jack hesitated. Instead of rushing in, he casually shifted his focus to inspect his storage space.

Upon checking, he discovered a stash of items courtesy of the system – ten thousand dollars and an assortment of documents. But there was a lingering disappointment – the system had never delivered the promised satchel. Though it might have been plain and made of ordinary materials, Jack couldn't help feeling a tad cheated.

Despite his complaints falling on deaf ears, Jack, faced with the lack of a communication channel, reluctantly gave up. The system, in his opinion, was a lousy one. It didn't matter if others discovered its subpar functions; what irked him more was its insatiable greed for money.

Nevertheless, ten thousand dollars seemed a bit tight for Jack's liking. After a brief contemplation, a spark lit up in his eyes, and he formulated a plan.

In front of the police station, instead of charging in headfirst, Jack made a sharp turn and strolled toward a dimly lit alley in the opposite direction. As a warning echoed in his mind about the perils of Gotham's alleys, he scoffed it off. For Jack, warnings were meaningless – he was on a mission to apprehend the perpetrators.

Stepping into the alley, Jack immediately sensed several pairs of eyes fixating on him. Swiftly, he pulled out a wad of banknotes from his pocket, counted them with nonchalance, and tucked them back. In an instant, those lurking eyes transformed from curious to downright covetous.

Now, one might question whether these gangsters couldn't see through such an obvious bait. To that, Jack could only shake his head. After all, they were criminals lurking in dark alleys; expecting them to be brilliant strategists was perhaps asking for too much.

In the gritty streets of Gotham, where common criminals roam like shadows, two predominant breeds stand out – the thrill-chasing gamblers and the desperate drug addicts. It's a twisted dance of survival, where money and substances become the currency of choice.

"Hand over the money!" demanded the gang, daggers glinting menacingly.

Jack, with a mischievous glint in his eye, responded, "Hold on a sec! Gotham Police Department is just a hundred meters away. Is this your idea of subtlety?"

Laughter erupted, echoing through the alley. The gang, led by a maniacal figure, dismissed the notion of Gotham police with disdain.

"Gotham police? Hahaha! Is there such a thing in this city?" scoffed the leader.

Jack, unfazed, contemplated the sorry state of law enforcement in Gotham. The gangsters' laughter fueled his decision to cut the small talk short.

Tilting his head, Jack prepared to take matters into his own hands, literally. He wasn't here for idle chit-chat; he needed to confirm whether the police were as toothless in reality as they seemed in the movies.

The verdict? Worse.

These low-level gangsters dared to mock the police, and Jack, with a wry smile, accepted the challenge. He realized a show of force might be necessary in the future.

As Jack pondered whether to disable the gangsters or resort to more permanent measures, an unexpected twist unfolded. A distinct click, the sound of a pistol being loaded, cut through the tense air behind him.

A mysterious voice declared, "I believe there's still some law left in Gotham."

The experiment just got a whole lot more interesting!

.....

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