In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

Chapter 157: Party and Umbrella (End)

Copperpot looked around and first glanced at Gordon's gun, then at Batman's lingering cold aura, and finally at his right arm that was still broken and bound to the hospital bed. He sighed and said, "I did kill the old umbrella maker, Vicin, but I am not a thief or a robber. This umbrella was originally mine."

As Copperpot spoke, the mystery gradually unfolded. "My father, Old Copperpot, was once the leader of the Copperpot family, one of the four major families in the East District. At that time, the East District was still prosperous, and the four major families controlled dozens of streets in the entire East District. The most central street was the Green Street next to Living Hell. Our old mansion was also spacious and luxurious."

"I have heard Brock mention this history," said Gordon, leaning against the table. "But what does this have to do with you killing an innocent umbrella maker?"

"Innocent? He was not innocent!" Copperpot snorted. "So, you should also know that a few years ago, Vicin was the only hand-made umbrella maker in Gotham City."

"Until now," Gordon looked at Schiller and said, "This profession does not require too many people, and few people will spend a lot of money to buy a handmade umbrella."

"But at that time, the gang leaders in the East District would go to Vicin's umbrella shop to order a handmade umbrella."

"You may think that this is just pursuing handmade products or showing off your status..."

"Isn't it?" Batman also looked at Schiller.

Copperpot shook his head and said, "You don't understand." "My father also ordered an umbrella from Vicin's shop, but the umbrella maker breached the contract. He took my father's money but did not deliver the umbrella on time, so my father died of pneumonia in the rain..."

"This is ridiculous!" Gordon looked at Copperpot like he was crazy. "Are you saying that you killed the umbrella maker to avenge your father?"

He reached out and said, "Okay, I admit that this umbrella maker was wrong to accept money but not deliver the goods, but did your father only wait for this one umbrella? He would rather get wet in the rain than use another umbrella?"

Copperpot stared at Gordon grimly and said, "That's why I said you don't know anything." "Who said my father didn't bring an umbrella when he went out? He did, but those umbrellas were useless."

Gordon looked at Copperpot like he was crazy, but Copperpot didn't care. He closed his eyes, as if recalling something, and said, "My father knew something that others didn't know. He investigated these things, things that I can't describe..."

Then he opened his eyes, looked at Gordon confidently, and said, "There is something wrong with Gotham's rain."

"He told me that when you prepare an umbrella to deal with Gotham's rainy days, it's best to buy one at Vicin's umbrella shop, otherwise it's useless."

Gordon asked with a puzzled frown, "What do you mean? Are you saying... only umbrellas sold at Vicin's umbrella shop can truly withstand Gotham's rain? What is this theory? What is the difference between factory-produced umbrellas and handmade umbrellas? Isn't it just about blocking the body?"

Schiller and Batman, however, heard a slightly different meaning. They looked at each other, and Batman asked, "Are you saying that there is something wrong with Gotham's rain, and only umbrellas sold at Vicin's umbrella shop can truly withstand that rain?"

Copperpot nodded and said, "I don't know if you have heard that not everyone can buy umbrellas from Vigen's shop. Some people can, while others cannot."

"This means that someone wants some people to block the rain and let others get wet," Schiller said, his words confusing Gordon, whose values were completely different from theirs, making it seem like some kind of secret code.

Gordon didn't understand. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Schiller put his finger on his chin and asked, "Then what about your father? Why did he buy an umbrella but still get wet?"

"I don't know," Copperpot answered bluntly. "All I know is that on the day he was supposed to receive the umbrella, he didn't get it. But something came up and he knew it could be dangerous, yet he still had to go out."

"What was it?"

"The Godfather's eldest son died, and my father had to attend the funeral."

"Do you think your father's death was because he didn't have an umbrella to block the rain?"

"Yes, that's why I said the umbrella should have been mine. My father paid for it, but he didn't receive it and paid with his life."

Schiller frowned, and he and Batman exchanged a look, clearly thinking the same thing.

"So you killed the umbrella maker to avenge your father?" Gordon asked Copperpot.

Before Copperpot could answer, Batman said, "No, he didn't. He's not seeking revenge."

Gordon turned to Batman, but before he could ask, Schiller poked him with his umbrella and said, "Don't ask. Just know that he's an expert in revenge."

Then he turned to Copperpot and said, "You don't have the personality for revenge. To you, something that brings tangible benefits is more important."

Copperpot let out a sigh and said, "Yes, it's not for my father, but for my mother."

"That's why I kept asking you, Doctor, if this disease can really be cured?"

"What do you mean?"

"I suspect my mother's illness might be... a curse."

"A curse? Explain."

"Before my mother fell ill for the first time, she begged me for help. I don't remember what she said, but she was conscious and kept calling for help."

"Finally, on the eve of her madness, she said to me, 'Umbrella, get the umbrella, you must bring the umbrella...'"

"I already knew about my father's research, but it wasn't until then that I realized his death may not have been an accident. He was the one abandoned, didn't receive the umbrella, didn't block the rain, and couldn't survive."

"My mother went crazy. Whenever I mentioned anything about my father, she would start convulsing, afraid and unable to provide any useful information."

"Do you suspect that your father and mother knew something, so one was killed and the other cursed?"

"Did your father tell you that there was something wrong with the rain in Gotham?" Batman asked Copperpot.

"He mentioned it, but more importantly, I witnessed it," Copperpot struggled to sit up from the bed and said, "You upper-class people and rich people wouldn't notice the changes in Living Hell."

"Didn't you notice that the order there has improved a lot?"

"Of course we did," Gordon said, "the frequency of murders there has decreased a lot because people's living conditions have improved..."

"Don't talk nonsense, aren't there still wealthy bad guys in Gotham?" Copperpot interrupted Gordon, "Before, the residents of Living Hell drank water from wells, you know, those open wells."

"But now it's different, after the renovation, their drinking water is all purified through buried water filters..." "That's the key issue," Copperpot looked at Schiller and said, "I don't understand any psychological theories, but I know that a person's bad habits are difficult to change. If all the residents of Living Hell are born bad, then improving their living conditions cannot change them so thoroughly."

"I have witnessed how chaotic and crazy the people there are. But since the completion of the Living Hell renovation, they seem like different people, although they still follow the code of the Gang, but they are obviously more normal."

"Do you think it's because the rainwater from Gotham was mixed into their drinking water before?" Batman asked.

"That's right, in fact, with the help of Fish's men, I have tried several times to investigate the water filter, but without success. That thing is too complicated, and just relying on some visual descriptions, I can't figure out how it works."

Schiller looked at Batman, he could tell that Batman was thinking. As a time traveler, he knew that this could be the truth, at least it was mentioned in some comics that Gotham was so chaotic because there were special substances in the water cycle that would make people crazy.

But he couldn't just say it directly, he had to reason it out. So he knocked on the table, attracting everyone's attention, and said, "Let's analyze this logical chain."

"Oswald said that there is a problem with the rain in Gotham that can change people's personalities. The umbrellas sold by the umbrella maker Vicin are the only effective tools to shelter from the rain."

"If this is true, then Vicin has the ability to make umbrellas that resist this kind of rain, but he sells them to some people and refuses others. What is his purpose?"

"Maybe he just can't handle it?" Gordon guessed, "After all, making an umbrella by hand should be pretty slow, right?"

"There weren't many people buying umbrellas to begin with," Copperpot said, "he sold them for so much money, how many people could afford them? Ten years ago, only the top few Gang bosses in the East District could afford them. Even if he made one umbrella a month, in a year, it would be enough to equip all the Gang bosses in the East District with an umbrella."

"So he is screening people," Batman's voice came, "the logic forms a closed loop."

"The people behind the scenes somehow made Gotham rain with a problem, and then controlled an umbrella maker to sell useful umbrellas to some people, allowing some people to use umbrellas and others to get wet...what would this lead to?"

He muttered to himself, saying: "Some people are working hard to maintain order, while others are falling into chaos and madness... or rather..." Schiller sighed and said: "A group of people are creating wealth for themselves, while another group is causing this city to never have peace and always be shrouded in darkness."

"Now there is only one question, who are they?" Copperpot's tone was very cold. Even though he was not a person driven by revenge like Batman, in Penguin's eyes, this organization that caused him to lose everything must pay the price.

At this moment, Schiller walked to the bedside with an umbrella and looked at Copperpot. He showed a somewhat creepy smile and said: "No wonder they knew it was me who caused all the changes. They had been watching me for a long time."

Copperpot stared at him in silence. Schiller turned the umbrella in his hand, then held it in the middle and handed it to Copperpot, saying: "Mr. Copperpot..."

"It's called the Court of Owls. Take the umbrella and take them down."