There is no Batman in Gotham City comics.

Chapter 110, Section 07: Matchstick Horse

Chapter 110, Section 07: Matchstick Horse

Three days later, in the early morning, Qin Wei returned to the Senate with dark circles under his eyes.

The tape was still on the door, and not a single hair had fallen off. He turned the doorknob and went inside.

"Um?"

The wine bottles were gathered in a corner; the black garbage bags were filled with puffed food packaging; the floor, worn smooth from being stepped on, was now spotless. When he saw the once messy room tidied up, he blinked in surprise, then smiled knowingly.

Only one person could have bypassed his little traps and sneaked into the house.

"Promise me you won't do this again next time. Hiring a cleaner isn't expensive."

"I didn't want to get involved, but this place is absolutely filthy." A pair of hands dangled from above her head as Selena slid down from the ceiling, her arms around Qin Wei's shoulders. "I hope I didn't ruin your plans."

"It would have been destroyed, but it doesn't matter now," Qin Wei said with a smile. "So thank you anyway, Miss Amazing Cat."

"You're welcome. Speak! What brings you here this time?"

Qin Wei handed over a photo.

"Help me with some makeup, just to look like this person."

In the photo, a middle-aged man with a small mustache and bronze skin is walking across the street, a cigarette dangling from his lips; he is wearing a dark brown suit.

A plaid tie fluttered in the wind, and the persistent dark clouds in the Gotham City sky were reflected in his sunglasses.

His name is Matchstick Marlon, and he used to be a debt collector in the Roman Empire. He was acquainted with his target, Johnny.

Three years ago, after failing to collect a debt, this guy set fire to the debtor's mansion, killing thirteen people and also endangering a firefighter. Because the creditor died in the fire, he was wanted by Maroney and forced to flee Gotham.

In the animated series, Batman once impersonated this guy to infiltrate a gang. Now, the plot is mirroring reality, and Qin Wei is going to use this guy's identity to get close to Johnny.

It wasn't intentional on his part; it was all fate's arrangement. Matchstick Malone was remarkably similar to him in both height and facial features, and both had similar brownish-black hair. Plus, the other wasn't in Gotham; could there be a more suitable target for disguise?

Selena brushed a layer of brown foundation onto Qin Wei's face, sprayed on setting spray, and then stuck two small mustaches on his lips.

After finishing, Selena didn't forget to hold up the photos for comparison:

"They're exactly the same!"

"Thanks to your makeup skills." Qin Wei took out sunglasses from his inner pocket and put them on.

"Makeup skills are secondary; it's more about the similarity in face shape. Where did you find such a suitable person to impersonate?"

Then you'll have to ask the amazing Mr. Bat.

"All done. Is there anything else I can help you with? If not, I'm off to go shopping with Holly." Selena's gaze never left Qin Wei's face, whether out of curiosity or simply admiration for her masterpiece, it was hard to tell.

"Wait a little longer, there's one more person who needs makeup." Qin Wei glanced at his watch.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a series of footsteps came from downstairs.

"I'm here. I hope I'm not too late!"

The man walked in, but when his gaze fell on Qin Wei, he couldn't look away—Matchstick Ma Long wiped his mouth with his thumb, puzzled by the fact that there were two versions of himself in the room.

It's no exaggeration to say that the "Matchstick Horse" opposite me is more like myself than I am.

"Is this how you meant to get me back to Gotham? To impersonate me and walk right into the Romans' trap?"

A few days ago, Qin Wei found Matchstick Marlon, who had smuggled himself back to Gotham and changed his name, and recruited him into his service with an irresistible offer.

I will get the Romans to lift the arrest warrant for you, as long as you do my job.

Matchstick Marlon expressed deep skepticism about this.

Although Maronian had fallen and Oswald had succeeded him, the sin of burning creditors to death and leaving the Roman Empire with a $100 million debt could not be erased simply by changing leaders.

But he still chose to believe Qin Wei one last time, after all, he had nothing left to lose. The outside world simply couldn't tolerate a thug with no skills who only knew how to cause trouble; only his hometown, Gotham, the Jerusalem of the criminal underworld, would open its arms to every child.

"So, the next step is to make him look like you?"

"A clever girl!"

Selena raised an eyebrow; she was becoming increasingly interested in this man's plan.

Every minute of makeup was torture for Matchstick Ma Long. He didn't know what would happen if he dressed up as Qin Wei. Would he be a scapegoat? Would a bullet fly from the corner when he walked out the door? Or would he be sent on some mission with this face?

But Qin Wei didn't say anything; he just pulled out a credit card and slapped it in front of him.

"For these three days, I want you to live life to the fullest. Whatever you do, whether you gamble away fortunes at the casino or buy everyone's drinks at the bar, I'll cover all the expenses. And just remember one thing: your name now is 'Wei'."

"This is the script I prepared for you."

Qin Weiwen took out a folder.

"If you encounter the person in the photo, choose the appropriate response from the script. Ignore everyone else."

"The bar is filled with a murky atmosphere," Johnny muttered to himself, taking a sip of his drink.

"The guy sitting to my left on the bar stool just let out a loud fart, and a cigarette is burning just two or three inches from the hole where he farted. A man is holding it between his fingers and resting his hand on the back of the stool."

"Farts are flammable gas, and I worry that they might get ignited by a cigarette butt and burn a man's hair off. This isn't just wishful thinking. Anything can happen in this eerie place, and of course, 'this place' doesn't just refer to this bar I frequent, but to the whole of Gotham."

"Four months ago, I was released from Blackgate Prison. I had served six months in jail just for touching a cop's head. Although touching someone's head with a beer bottle was definitely excessive, I am still indignant about what happened to me. We are all gangsters, but some people can beat them up in front of the police station's surveillance cameras and not be held accountable. That's unfair."

"I'm not exaggerating at all. I saw it with my own eyes. The guy who beat people up was called Oswald. He was just a minor leader of the Romans back then, but look at him now! He has replaced Maroni."

"I vaguely remember that night he bailed out a naked man from prison. It was truly enviable. If I had switched rooms with him, perhaps I would have already boarded this big ship, instead of being stuck in this mess with my ex-wife over child support."

"Shirley called again this morning, but I didn't answer, and I didn't dare to. Five stints in prison have emptied my savings. I can barely support myself, let alone my daughter. Otherwise, I wouldn't have taken the risk of taking on that troublesome job—picking up the clown from the iron gates of Arkham."

"This guy always sneaks back when he gets bored, but when he wants to have some fun, he passes the psychological assessment with near-perfect scores. I tried to persuade Boss Monty, telling him that the Joker wouldn't cooperate with us for a little money, and that getting involved with this lunatic was a bad choice."

"Unfortunately, since Maroney's disappearance, the entire Gotham drug market is about to be completely divided up by Arnold's faction. The boss, who was so annoyed by this that he pulled out his hair, did not listen to my advice and insisted on betting on the Joker."

"So, for the $500 running fee, I brought the calamity back to the gang."

That very night, Monty's head was placed on the table, and the Joker told everyone present, who were stunned, that he would take back what he had lost.

Reason told me I shouldn't believe the clown's nonsense, but his words deeply stung me.

"To 'take back what's lost' means that I've lost everything. Shirley, Flint, we used to have a happy little family, but they left me when I lost my job and went down this path."

"I wired $500 to Shirley and told her I'd stop after this job, and tried to ask her in as unassuming a tone as possible: 'If I were to kneel down and propose to you again...'"

Before I could finish speaking, the strange man's piercing laughter on the other end of the receiver was like an ice pick that shattered my already battered heart.

"It constantly reminds me that Johnny is a man with nothing."

As soon as he pushed open the bar door, someone recognized him immediately: "Hey! Matchstick Marlon, you're back after all. Striding in here for a drink like this, aren't you afraid the Romans will cause you trouble?"

Matchstick Marlon isn't that famous in Gotham. This line is meant to get Johnny to turn around, and once their eyes meet, they can stage a scene of old friends reuniting.

Of course, this arrangement meant that everyone in the bar was an extra contacted by Oswald; some were Romans, and others were temporary extras hired for a hundred dollars a day under the guise of filming.

Unfortunately, Johnny didn't turn around; he hunched over and huddled in the corner.

The man, immersed in his own world, was like a snowman welcoming spring, gradually melting away on the bar amidst the noisy atmosphere.

Let's go with Plan B then!

Qin Wei gave a wink, and the patron next to Johnny naturally took out his money to pay the bill and made room for him.

"A martini and a plate of spaghetti!" Qin Wei plopped down, took the scarf from the waiter, and "unintentionally" glanced to the side.

"My God, look who I've found!"

Johnny responded with a weary, alert glance, and a hint of surprise flickered in his cloudy eyes the moment he saw his old friend.

"Damn it, why are you back—"

Johnny lowered his voice, "You dare come to a place like this! Aren't you afraid the Romans will cause you trouble?"

Compared to the radical Matchstick Marlon, Johnny, who has been imprisoned multiple times, is much more cautious.

"Stop saying such discouraging things! Let's chat. You look like you've aged fifty years in just a few years!"

Johnny gripped his sleeves tightly and shrank his neck further: "I'm fine, I'm alright—"

"Come on, your worries are written all over your face!" Qin Wei snapped his fingers. "Give him a copy of mine too!"

"Hey bro, look! We're both down on our luck, there's nothing to hide! You and I both know that if we step out this door, this cold and messed-up world will slap us in the face."

"But have you ever thought about why bars even exist? Drink up! One glass after another, let the stress dissipate in the alcohol. We're men! Leave your tears and cowardice here, walk out the door with your heads held high!"

Johnny's eyes welled up with tears after hearing Qin Wei's words.