Volume 1: Welcoming Gotham Chapter 42: The age of mentally ill patients in Gotham City is getting younger. It's really scary.
Time flies and three days have passed.
Mason quickly adapted to the new and extremely fulfilling rhythm of life. It seemed that everything was on the right track, with good news coming one after another.
Two days ago, First Aid Skills officially broke through Lv2.
Another big boss in Gotham City, Mr. Falcone, is also a very "enthusiastic" person. He "sent" four or five drug test subjects to Mason every night for three consecutive days, greatly improving the efficiency of identifying unknown potions.
Kite Man’s renovation of the Iceberg Bar is also on the agenda.
He plans to keep the name of the Iceberg Bar but change its operating style. He plans to turn his bar into a gathering place for Gotham City's street heroes, and he is very confident in his operating idea.
Mason didn't care.
After getting enough "voluntary drug testers", his progress in studying alchemy techniques became much faster, and he decided to officially "attack" the production of the ecstasy potion tomorrow night.
As for why not tonight?
The reason is simple, because Mason's shop will officially open tonight.
It was a small shop located near Crime Alley, just one street away from Dr. Leslie's clinic . It was originally a grocery store with poor business, but under the cash offensive of the Kite Man himself, the owner quickly completed the transfer procedures.
Taking advantage of the interior decoration of the Glacier Bar, the workers also completed the cleaning and renovation of the shop. Mason spent some time with Charles last night to transport some of his recent works to the store.
He didn't hold any opening ceremony.
At ten o'clock in the evening, after getting off work at the clinic, he opened the shutter of the shop called "Cooper's Mystery Shop".
The shop is not big, it is just a small shop on the street. The second floor is Mason's resting place with a bed, wardrobe and several workbenches. It is paved with wooden boards in a minimalist style and the renovation is complete.
The first floor is the main body of the store.
There were no tables and chairs for receiving guests. Instead, there was a circular counter and five large display cabinets, which displayed Mason's handmade "goods" according to the distinction between alchemical creations and engineering creations.
It looks a bit shabby with only two display cabinets, but the remaining three display cabinets will be reserved for the creation of the future manufacturing branch.
Mason turned on the dim light and let the light shine through the shop door onto the street outside. The retro neon lights used for the sign outside the door and the colorful revolving lanterns shining on the water stains on the street also gave a magical feeling.
He pulled up a chair and sat behind the counter, where a rather peculiar object was placed.
A sewing machine.
He would take time out to study tailoring skills during the three hours from opening the shop at 10 a.m. to 1 a.m. every day. The importance of armor to a Star Society pioneer like him who wanted to explore another world was self-evident.
But the location of this store in Mason is terrible.
How could there be any decent customers near Crime Alley? With the security situation in Gotham, anyone walking around the streets at night is definitely not a kind-hearted person.
The shop had been open for an hour and there hadn't been a single customer. The only visitors were a group of hoodlums dressed in flashy clothes, who appeared to be high and looking for some fun.
But after seeing Mason's shotgun and a box full of bullets on the counter, the gangsters immediately came to their senses.
He obediently put away the baseball bat in his hand and walked out with a nod and a bow.
As for Mason himself, he was trying to make the simplest work with his clumsy hands on the sewing machine. After spending an hour making a crooked apron that was not even shabby enough to be used as clothing for a dog, he frowned and thought that perhaps he should start by tanning leather to prepare the raw materials for tailoring?
Or do I really not have the talent for this?
"Boss, these potions look really impressive, and why are there no prices?"
Just as he was frowning and thinking about how to improve his proficiency in the tailoring branch, a crisp voice rang out in the shop. Mason, who was busy doubting his life, said casually:
"I'm exchanging these medicines for materials, my friend, not selling them. The specific exchange conditions are next to the cabinet. Please see for yourself."
The voice asking the question was somewhat confused by the boss's indifferent service attitude. The short customer frowned and looked at a poster next to the display cabinet filled with pharmacies of various colors.
The first line of text on the letterhead reads, "All goods in this store are not for sale. They are only for material trading. If they are fake, we will compensate you tenfold. No cheating, no fraud."
The customer who entered the store at some point frowned and continued to look down:
"Ten bottles of healing potion in exchange for five goat stomach stones. The stones must be taken from goats between 4 and 7 years old in the last month of summer.
This exchange is permanent.”
The next line is:
"Ten bottles of vitality potion in exchange for five sets of each of the four materials: dried nettles, ground snake fangs and porcupine quills, and slugs with tentacles. This exchange is valid for a long time."
"Five bottles of paralysis potion for five of any one of sneezeweed, bad blood, and lovage. Because these materials are relatively rare, the exchange must be conducted after inspection."
"One bottle of high-level potion truth serum in exchange for ten sets of narcissus root powder, wormwood infusion, valerian root, and sleepy beans. The production process of this medicine is complicated, and it needs to be ordered one month in advance and a deposit of four sets of materials must be paid."
This shows that the materials and items required on the cardboard are varied, and the little guests frowned when they saw it.
He was confident that he was well-informed because of his family's knowledge, but there were many strange names of herbs and items listed on the cardboard that Mason had listed that he had never heard of before.
This made the young customer, who was wearing a black coat and a baseball cap, feel that this store might be some kind of "performance art" that he couldn't understand.
But the young guest frowned as he looked at the various potions placed in front of him. Relying on his intuition, he felt that these things did not seem to be fake. Well, at least the appearance of the bottles was somewhat similar to the real ones he had used.
So the little guest hesitated for a while and said:
"Your exchange conditions for this potion are so harsh. Although it's free, it's much more expensive than asking for money."
Mason was thinking about how to get started in the tailoring branch, so he didn't have time to play with customers, so he replied with a stern face:
"Look at Gotham City now. Where can you find a real alchemist? My potion is unique, made with solid ingredients and has first-rate effects. If you think it's too expensive, I think so too."
This is a bit like chasing people away.
The little guest sneered and said in a long voice:
"I didn't say I wouldn't buy it, but are these potions of yours real?"
"I am a professional alchemist. Can I sell you fake medicine?"
Mason finally raised his head and glanced at his busy little visitor.
He looked him up and down, seeing that the brim of this guy's baseball cap was pulled low and covered most of his face, but he could tell that he was only in his teens at most, still a child.
The young man's tone softened a little, and he reminded with some helplessness:
"Little boy, go home quickly. Don't wander around at night. It's dangerous around here. Here, this bottle of soda is a gift from your brother."
"Who wants your soda?"
The little guest was furious at this kind gesture.
He stared at Mason, with a fierce look on his face under the brim of his hat, as if he was very angry because Mason treated him as a child.
He said fiercely:
"I'm asking you if these potions are real!"
Mason could tell something was amiss. He frowned. When did this kid enter the store? How come he had no memory of him?
The young man stood up and grabbed the pistol beside him, then leaned over the counter and looked at the fierce little boy in front of him.
He said:
"Are you here to cause trouble? Who asked you to come?"
"I'm not!"
The little boy snorted, took a bottle of healing potion from the display case, shook it up and down in his hand, glanced at Mason, and said:
"If your medicine is real, I will definitely buy it. Although the ingredients you want seem outrageous , they are not impossible to find. I have a veterinarian at home... um.
There are many such things as sheep stones.
But what if the potion you gave me is fake?
Can I come back with my friends and smash up your store?"
"You naughty child!"
Mason laughed out loud.
It was obvious that he was here to cause trouble, but he was too lazy to say anything to a naughty kid of unknown origin, so he just waved his hand and said jokingly:
"You are the first customer in my store, so this bottle of medicine is for you. Take it back and play with it. If it is fake, you are welcome to smash my store.
Don't look at the stuff over there.
These are special accessories made for guns, not something a kid like you should play with.
Okay, I'm going to ask you to leave.
As you can see, I’m very busy right now.”
He pointed to the sewing machines on the counter and the various shapes of cloth that had just been cut.
"Just wait for me to expose your tricks!"
The naughty kid snorted, picked up a bottle of potion and walked away from Cooper's shop.
Mason watched him leave, squinted his eyes and thought for a while, then sat back at the counter and started working on his "needlework" again.
The naughty kid who took the medicine turned a corner along the dark street and entered the alley next to it, where a low-key black sedan was parked.
Four bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses stood guard beside the car like an iron tower. The little boy approached the nearest bodyguard, reached out from his arms, took out a dagger, and cut the bodyguard's wrist.
Suddenly blood gushed out.
During the whole process, neither the bodyguard nor the boy had any change in expression, as if this was a very normal thing.
"Drink it and tell me the effect in five minutes."
The little boy threw the potion in his hand to the bodyguard, then took off his baseball cap to reveal his short black hair.
He bent down and picked up an oriental-style black and white devil mask from the open car door and put it on his face, then clicked the safety on the black military pistol in his hand.
The other three bodyguards also opened the trunk and took out long and short weapons.
This fierce kid said that if Mason gave him fake medicine, he would smash his store. It seems that he was not lying. He had already made all the preparations to massacre the store in advance.
Even outrageous things like individual rocket launchers were prepared in the trunk.
This kind of thing would be outrageous in other cities, but in Gotham it seemed like everything made sense.
"Master, the mistress is calling."
Two minutes later, the bodyguard next to the naughty kid who was resting with his eyes closed in the car handed him a special encrypted satellite phone. The little boy who was about to do something big frowned and put the phone to his ear.
Then, a very pleasant, attractive but very cold voice sounded on the phone:
"Damian, you were supposed to leave Gotham this afternoon, but you haven't left yet, which will make you late for geography and history classes tomorrow. I need an explanation.
You better not lie to me."
"Mom, I'm just verifying something that I'm very interested in. Please leave me alone. I'm already grown up."
The little boy said angrily and helplessly:
"I'll be on the plane at midnight, and I promise to be home on time."
"What on earth are you doing?"
The indifferent mother on the other end of the phone asked again, saying:
"explain!"
"I...I just want to see what's so special about Mason Cooper that man paid special attention to him."
The bear kid answered honestly:
"As you know, Mason escaped during the last hunt I led. That was the first time I failed a mission in three years, and I hate humiliating failures! My grandfather taught me since I was a child that the best solution to failure is to try again.
After you stopped me from killing Dick Grayson and Tim Drake, are you going to stop me from failing?"
The voice on the other end of the phone was silent for a few seconds, then said:
"You'll have an hour! And, Damian, don't think I don't know why you keep avoiding classes with those doctors I hand-pick for you.
If you miss tomorrow's class...
Then the heads of your geography and history teachers will be placed on their dining tables tomorrow afternoon!"
This sentence completely angered the little boy, and he screamed angrily:
"What difference does it make? Even if they escape the disaster of being killed tomorrow, after I complete your course assessment, you will still stuff the two doctors who are regarded as useless into cement and sink them into the sea!
From the time I was six years old until now, seventeen professors with doctorates in various fields have died because of the 'study' plan you made for me!
I don't like this! Mom.
They are not the puppies that I raised and you forced me to kill with my own hands when I was eight years old... They are people! Living people, it is also good for us to keep them in the organization. They shouldn't be killed just because of me..."
"You're so weak, Damian."
The little boy's rebuttal was interrupted by his mother's indifference. She said:
"How can you, who are so fragile, inherit the great legacy that your grandfather will leave you in the future? How can you, who are so pitiful, fulfill the mission you were born with?
You saw the man in Gotham with your own eyes!
You know how powerful he is, nearly invincible and indestructible, like a god of fear born in Gotham.
If you don't study hard and equip yourself with knowledge now, how can you defeat him in the future? Damian, you have half of his blood.
But unfortunately, I don’t see the same potential in you that makes me and the entire Assassin’s League fascinated by him!
If you continue to indulge yourself in idle kindness, don't come back.
Stop calling me mom!
I will not accept a weak loser as my son.
That’s all I have to say!
Remember, Damian, you have fifty-five minutes."
"Beep, beep, beep"
The phone was hung up, and the vibrating busy tone seemed quite ruthless, bringing a sense of silent desolation in the dark night.
But the little boy in the car seemed to have gotten used to it. He handed the phone to the bodyguard with an expressionless face and clenched the gun in his hand.
The bodyguard who was testing the medicine came over when the five-minute countdown ended and showed his young master the back of his hand, which had completely healed with only a shallow scar.
Damian al Ghul looked at the shallow scar in front of him.
That proved that Mason Cooper's healing potion was indeed effective, and he had lost the legitimate reason to massacre the shop.
Of course, perhaps before the reason was gone, the little boy had already lost interest in taking action tonight.
He threw the pistol aside, closed his eyes and ordered:
"Go prepare the materials and buy as many items as you can from that store. Also, apologize to Mr. Mason for me and tell him that I will visit his magical store next time I come to Gotham.
Let's drive. I'm tired.
It’s time to go home and study.”
The low-key black sedan, which could withstand rocket attacks at close range, started silently and slowly slid into the night of Gotham.
In Cooper's magical shop, Mason hummed a song as he pressed the shining single-barreled bullet into the magazine, and touched the glowing Hell's Eye collar pin on his collar.
At his feet were eight flight engineering bombs, six bottles of weak petrification potions, and a whole row of paralysis potions. The hand cannon was inserted at his waist, the Penguin's armed umbrella was also placed beside his legs, and the invisibility cloak was folded in front of him.
This set of weapons is sufficient to deal with any crisis that may arise tonight.
But as Mason waited expectantly, not only did the attacker not appear, but the light on his collar pin quickly dimmed.
This made the young man blink in surprise.
"Hmm? Has Damian Wayne given up on killing me? That little devil raised by the King of Assassins is showing mercy for once?
What a shame, I was ready to tie up the little guy, send him to Wayne Manor, and extort a billion dollars from him.
Alas, Mr. Batman, it looks like your 'father-son reunion' will have to be postponed."
