The Mystery

Jack fixed his gaze on the ashen-faced Haldar, sporting a grin that mirrored the devil himself. With a sinister charm, he began to weave the threads of hypnotic mangic around Haldar.

The public questioning earlier had been a strategic move by Jack. Now, with Haldar left as the sole focus, he could employ hypnosis to extract the desired information effortlessly. Questions flowed from Jack, and Haldar, under the spell, obediently responded, divulging the intricate details of gang forces in Gotham City.

Haldar, a significant figure in the gang hierarchy, managed a high-end bar, signifying his authority. This made him a valuable source of information for Jack.

"Hmm... It's efficient to pinpoint the biggest gangster right away. I initially planned to assess the situation before strategizing, but a direct approach is not entirely out of the question," mused Jack to himself.

As his thoughts unfolded, a sound echoed from the door, drawing Jack's attention. He observed the entrance, anticipating the arrival of the true gang leader.

The rhythmic footsteps revealed the approaching owner. The door swung open, revealing armed gangsters who aimed their guns at Jack. Unperturbed, he disregarded them and strolled over to the wine cabinet. Amidst the threat of firearms, he leisurely selected from the remaining wines, displaying a complete disregard for the danger around him.

Pouring the drink with flair, Jack showcased his suave demeanor. The gangsters exchanged bewildered glances, struggling to comprehend his indifference. Shouldn't there be some reaction to our armed confrontation?

Yet, witnessing their fallen comrades, still unconscious and bleeding, the gangsters hesitated. Fear crept in, knowing the real threat lurked in the shadows, and Jack's exploits had already spread through those who escaped.

Words circulated, painting Jack as a "devil," a "terror," impervious to bullets. The weight of collective testimony unnerved the gangsters, creating psychological pressure. The sight of their fallen allies further heightened their caution.

Oddly, as they observed Jack, an inexplicable desire to retreat enveloped them. It felt like a clash of light against darkness.

Finally, Falconi, dressed in a sharp suit, entered under the escort of his men. At the sight of Jack, Falconi's brows furrowed, a testament to the unease that Jack's presence stirred within him.

"Carman Falconi?" Jack finally settled on a bottle of wine from the cabinet, pulled it down, popped it open, and poured the rich liquid. "It's not every day you run into someone like you."

"Sure, meeting me makes it tough for you to walk away," Falconi said, gesturing for Gordon's ex-partner, Frank to step forward. "What's his deal?"

"I don't know," Frank replied, bewildered. "I've never seen him before."

"So, you're telling me you're a phony cop?" Falconi's eyes gleamed with malevolence as he glared at Jack.

"I just joined the force today, transferred in from... other cities," Jack explained, taking a sip of wine, nodding in satisfaction. "Originally, I was just curious about what's going on in Gotham City, but you guys have been so helpful. Consider it a little gift from me."

Falconi suddenly had a realization. Transferred from another city, a new recruit trying to get the lay of the land in Gotham City? Was this guy just ignorant of the situation or plain arrogant?

"Let me give you some advice," Falconi straightened his collar, adopting a stern tone. "First rule: don't mess with me!"

"That sounds pretty tough," Jack remarked, sipping his wine. "But your voice is a bit faint from over there. Come closer, let's chat."

Falconi was at least ten meters away from Jack. While the words sounded threatening, it was quite comical to shout them from a distance, surrounded by a bunch of his henchmen.

"Do you think I'm a fool? Just stroll over and get taken hostage?" Falconi sneered.

"Aren't you?" Jack looked genuinely puzzled. "Why would you even appear in front of me?"

"...I'm going to kill him," Falconi muttered, taking deep breaths and turning to Frank. "What do you have to say?"

"Yes," Fras replied, his expression serious.

Fras wasn't a saint or a fool.

"With his fighting skills, just transferred here, and joined the force today—what's your take?" Frank asked.

"...You mean, he's not an ordinary guy?" Falconi's expression shifted as he glanced at Jack.

Frank whispered. "His demeanor, his attitude... haven't you noticed how he's oddly relaxed even in this situation?""In that case, either he's crazy or incredibly confident!"

.....

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