For a mont, the whole crowd fell silent. Dozens of tough, exhausted workers stared at the burst-open suitcase, unable to look away from the stacks of cash inside. So swallowed hard, drawn by the promise; after weeks of fighting for scraps, the sight of real money hit like a punch. No one wanted to be left penniless on the street.
Adam watched their faces and felt satisfied with their reaction. He tapped the microphone, his voice steady:
"I feel for you guys. I'm not here to help greedy factory owners keep you in line, and I'm not here to smooth things over with empty words. Honestly, I'm not even a cop whose jurisdiction covers this place."
That surprised them. The crowd began to murmur, uncertain now if he was for the bosses or not.
"I'm here on orders from City Hall and Gotham Police," Adam continued. "There's a new law—prohibition—and ever since it ca in, people have tried to sabotage it at every turn. So they've decided we need a new kind of police force—a team dedicated to taking down illegal alcohol, helping restore justice and law to our city."
He didn't ntion the na "Prohibition Enforcent Team" yet, instead using a new, promising label. He wanted these workers to see themselves as potential heroes, not just as employees.
Deadshot, standing beside him, nearly rolled his eyes.
'You sell booze too, Adam—how can you brag like this?' he thought, but kept quiet.
Adam pointed at the money. "This cash is seed money for the new force. If you want, you can take your share and join us—be part of sothing honest for once."
His speech wasn't exactly stirring—Deadshot wanted to yawn just listening—but for the workers, the offer mattered. Job satisfaction across Gotham was a running joke, and right now the only work available didn't pay up front. Most bosses made them wait, and these n were tired of empty promises.
Cash brought instant attention. Several began shuffling forward—but they hesitated, thinking the offer must be too good to be true.
Adam saw the uncertainty. He raised his voice, driving the point ho:
"Ask yourselves—why do the factory owners ignore you? It's because you have no power. With a badge and a team at your back, you won't be easy targets anymore. No one will dare ss with you."
It was good, basic persuasion. Soon, so n agreed to join the new force, eager for both money and respect. Others chose to wait for a payout that might never co.
With the workers recruited, Adam moved on to his second target: the military academy.
This place had clearly seen better days. The economy was so bad that the academy was shutting down. Seniors were rushed out with early diplomas, but the underclassn had nowhere to go. Too young to graduate, their futures were suddenly in limbo.
Adam saw a chance to help and to boost his team. After talking with the school's leaders, he made his offer: underclassn could volunteer to join the new enforcent unit, work for three years, and get a diploma at the end. If they didn't want to join, Adam would help transfer them to another school.
But he could only use the word "volunteer." He couldn't force anyone, and it turned out recruiting these students was a challenge—this crowd wasn't swayed by cash like the workers.
No surprise, so students imdiately pushed back.
A young guy stood up and shouted, "Bah! Cops like you don't fight cri, you just take bribes and act like gangsters! Maybe I don't have any special skills, but I earn my money fairly. Not like you—your money's dirty!"
The room nodded in agreent. The police reputation in Gotham was so bad, most kids wanted nothing to do with it. Adam knew why the police director hired ex-juvenile inmates—nobody else wanted the badge.
Adam kept calm, even smiled. He respected their guts. In fact, he understood: Gotham survived because so people still cared about ideals, even if society was falling apart. It was why old rivals like Falcone or Penguin would still risk themselves for their city when real trouble struck.
"Well said," Adam answered. He clapped for the student, and everyone stared. They hadn't expected the cop in front of them to cheer on criticism.
Adam stepped closer, speaking directly to the room:
"Look—Gotham's got problems, and the police aren't innocent. But ask yourselves, who steps up to stop the bad guys? When those crooks are out of control, who takes responsibility? You say it's the police who ruined Gotham, but who actually stands up? Is it just Batman flying overhead? Co on, you know better."
His words stung, and—as he expected—several kids got heated. At least now, they were ready to argue with him, which was exactly what he needed to keep them engaged.
Reviews
All reviews (0)