The Ducati sped along the streets and, after crossing several blocks, came to a smooth stop beneath the Chinatown archway.
Will rubbed his face.
There was only one helmet on the motorcycle, so naturally the passenger in the back didn’t get one.
All he could do was wrap his arms around Selina’s waist and press his head against her back.
The rushing wind whipped Selina’s golden wig around like a whip, striking him in the face again and again.
It wasn’t exactly painful, but the experience was certainly unpleasant.
Looking at his miserable expression, Selina smiled suggestively.
“Should I get you a helmet next time?”
“There’s no need.
I don’t ride that often.”
Will pretended not to understand the implication.
The two walked into Chinatown.
Just as Selina was about to enter a restaurant with a red sign, Will hurriedly called her back.
“Where are you going?”
“Inside to eat.
Their buttered noodles are really good.”
Buttered noodles?
What the hell was that?
Will muttered under his breath and glanced at the restaurant’s sign.
“‘All Fortune Restaurant’?
What kind of Chinese restaurant calls itself that?
It’s probably run by ABCs or Southeast Asians, catering specifically to American tastes.
It has nothing to do with authentic Chinese food.”
“Oh?
So you’re an expert on Chinese food?”
“Obviously.
I’m an absolute expert!”
Selina crossed her arms and looked at Will with interest.
Ever since she’d met him, she’d noticed that a thick fog seemed to surround this man.
Was he brave?
He was the man who had hidden beneath a blanket and secretly wallowed in misery at the deserted Senate.
Was he cowardly?
He was also the man who had risked himself to lure the bioweapon away and buy her time to escape.
Was he rational?
That didn’t seem quite right either.
After all, what sane person would come up with a suicide plan involving escaping through a sewer outlet?
But was he crazy?
He’d been the one who, under tremendous pressure, came up with a way to escape, and he’d even managed to survive the struggle between Maroni and Falcone.
Selina had always believed that this man was very good at hiding his true self.
Except right now.
Ever since they had entered Chinatown, Will’s expression had become noticeably more animated.
He looked this way and that, his eyes filled with an endless sense of nostalgia for the place.
Selina’s impression was understandable.
After all, Catwoman normally dealt with wealthy businessmen and politicians.
They were accustomed to peeling off their own faces and wearing bloody smiles as masks.
But Will was different.
His bravery was him.
His cowardice was him.
His rationality was him.
There was no need for deliberate concealment.
People were complicated by nature.
…
Will chose a small restaurant called Spring Blossom Dumplings.
It was only twenty or thirty square meters.
The paint was peeling from the walls, a yellowed calendar hung there, and a small Buddha statue sat on an old wooden table at the very back.
The seats were packed with Asian faces.
Some wore work clothes, while others wore shirts and ties.
They occasionally glanced at the two strangers with unfamiliar eyes, as though Will and Selina were the foreigners here.
“Is this place really authentic?”
“Look at the kind of people who come here.
Americanized Chinese food might fool other people, but it can’t fool them.”
The owner was a woman in her fifties.
She walked over to them, rubbed her hands against her dirty apron, and asked in broken English,
“What can I help you?”
“Two large orders of pork-and-chive dumplings.”
Hearing Will answer in Mandarin, with a trace of his hometown accent, the woman’s eyes immediately lit up.
The other diners also looked up in surprise.
“Good heavens!
Where’d you learn that?
That’s pretty standard.”
“Been here for more than twenty years.
How could it not be?”
Will smiled.
The people around them laughed as well.
Selina could clearly feel the thin layer of hostility disappear, replaced by an inexplicable sense of warmth.
While the dumplings were cooking, Selina poked Will on the back of his hand.
“Why are these people looking at us differently?
They were so cold just now, and suddenly they’re friendly.”
“Cultural identity.
Learning our…
their language is a form of recognizing their culture.”
“These people are open and accepting, but they’re also wary of outsiders.
Can’t be helped.
The bullying they’ve suffered from foreigners throughout history has left countless scars.
If you want to be accepted by them, you first have to set aside your own prejudices and defenses.”
Selina nodded.
She seemed to understand, but not completely.
The dumplings arrived.
Will poured some vinegar into a small dish for Selina, then picked up several cloves of garlic from the table, peeled them, and popped them into his mouth.
“Garlic?”
“It’s an advanced way of eating them.
Want to try?”
Selina shook her head vigorously.
Will didn’t force her.
He picked up a dumpling and dipped it lightly in vinegar.
The moment it entered his mouth, the fresh fragrance of scallions and the rich aroma of pork spread through his nose.
“Ah…
That’s the taste!”
Selina chewed a few times, and her eyes lit up as well.
She had grown up scraping by in the slums.
She hadn’t eaten at every food stall and little shop in the lower district, but she’d experienced most of them.
Yet for the same price, she couldn’t remember ever tasting anything this delicious.
“So this is a dumpling?”
“Looks like you weren’t exaggerating.
You really do know your stuff.”
After giving her sincere praise, Selina raised her head.
She found that Will was still sitting in the same position, head held high and eyes narrowed as he slowly chewed one dumpling after another.
Behind him, the gentle glow from the Buddhist shrine illuminated his back, forming a faint halo around him.
Was this…
so delicious that he’d ascended on the spot?
Selina burst out laughing.
That meal had, without either of them realizing it, brought the two of them much closer.
After dinner, the two walked out of the dumpling shop with satisfied smiles while the owner called after them warmly.
“Come back next time, young man!”
“Absolutely!”
Will waved goodbye with a smile, then turned around to find Selina raising an eyebrow at him.
“What?”
“Come over to my place for a while.
We can have a cup of coffee or something.”
Selina extended the invitation.
Will wasn’t sure whether the girl meant anything by it, but to be safe, he thought he shouldn’t accept.
Falcone was Selina’s father.
If he wanted to support Oswald’s rise to power, sooner or later he would have to cross swords with the old lion.
Although Selina also wanted to bring Falcone down, when it came to the fate of that old lion, their blood relationship might still influence her final decision.
But a small fry like Will couldn’t afford to make mistakes.
Caught between two big shots like Maroni and Falcone, one wrong move could leave him crushed to pieces.
He took a deep breath.
“Sure!”
‘Wait…
No!
Wasn’t I planning to refuse?’
By the time he came to his senses, he was already sitting on the back of the motorcycle.
He swore he hadn’t deliberately said one thing while thinking another, but somehow, it seemed as though another consciousness inside him had made the choice for him.
Could this, like the casino massacre, be another unavoidable story node?
He seemed to think of something.
Will lifted his coat and checked inside.
Sure enough, a comic book was quietly tucked into the inner pocket.
The cover had become curled and wrinkled, with a few coffee stains along the edges.
It was as if it had always been sitting inside his suit pocket, only forgotten by Will.
The previous comic had been ruined by water in the sewers, and now another one had appeared.
Will could finally confirm it.
Whenever a major story node occurred, the comic would refresh inside the inner pocket of his clothes.
And this time, what sort of twists and turns would be waiting for him?
At the thought of that, he felt vaguely uneasy.