Martin Variety in American Comics

Sitting in Gordon's car, Martin realized that not every place in Gotham was full of crime and murder.

When the police car entered the city center, the streets that were originally full of garbage instantly became clean and tidy.

The shabby huts that sold second-hand drugs, guns and other items turned into high-rise buildings full of luxury goods.

The people walking on the street also changed from poor people who were starving and thin because of drugs and poverty to white-collar workers in suits and leather shoes.

"It's really two different worlds!"

Martin leaned against the car window and looked outside. The dividing line between poverty and wealth in Gotham was so obvious that the difference between heaven and hell was inside and outside a street.

"Jim, how can you endure this?"

He suddenly turned his head, and his black and white eyes under his glasses stared at the police chief of Gotham City.

Faced with this question, Gordon's lips and beard moved, and finally turned into helplessness, sighing: "Do you think that I, the police chief, am just a free man who can only say nice things every day?"

Martin shook his head: "On the contrary. If you were a free man, Gotham would have become a battlefield long ago."

"Patience, this is my only choice."

Gordon gave a vague answer and asked Martin: "If you were in my position, what would you do?"

"Of course, I would do it regardless of everything."

This answer was straightforward and decisive. Although Martin was not very old, the identities and things he had experienced were things that ordinary people would never encounter in their lifetimes.

If he hadn't had a firm belief to support him, he would have been lost in different identities and turned into a schizophrenic lunatic.

"You are still young after all!"

Gordon sighed: "I am old and don't have your courageous spirit. I am satisfied as long as Gotham remains the same."

Gordon is fifty years old this year, and his only daughter has been crippled by the Joker. Facing such a predicament, he still hasn't retired, which is enough to show his courage.

Martin didn't mock or praise, but just nodded silently.

Soon, the car arrived at the gate of a museum.

"This is where the Riddler challenged Batman."

Gordon took out a paper bag from his bag and handed it to Martin: "This is the certificate prepared for you, and some gadgets produced by the Wayne Group. With these things, you can save a lot of trouble."

Martin got out of the car and took the bag: "If you don't go with me, who should I go to if I need help?"

"Call!" Gordon rolled down the window, gestured and said: "I still have a lot of criminals waiting to be dealt with, and I don't have time to run around Gotham with you."

"Okay, this reason is very strong."

Martin shrugged, said goodbye to Gordon, and walked towards the museum funded by the Wayne Group.

From the outside, this museum looks like it is made up of several large white stones stacked together, with an ancient Greek style.

Martin looked at the museum, shook his head and muttered, "Is there something wrong with the designer of this museum? There are few sunny days in Gotham throughout the year. What's the difference between building a white building here and throwing a cotton ball into a pile of coal?"

"Stop, the museum is closed. No tourists are accepted now. Leave immediately."

While Martin was evaluating the museum in his mind, the security guard at the door found a stranger approaching and immediately raised his automatic rifle to point at him.

Martin was not panicked at all in the face of the black muzzle of the gun. He was about to take out the pass prepared by Gordon from his pocket when he suddenly heard someone calling his name.

"Are you Martin, the great detective who often appears on TV?"

Martin stopped taking out the pass and pointed at himself in surprise and said, "You all know me?"

"You are a famous person who can compete with Batman. It's hard for us not to know you!"

The security guards lowered their guns and surrounded him, asking for autographs like fans.

Although various media have mixed opinions on people like Batman, people living at the bottom of Gotham are very supportive of these vigilantes.

In addition to these vigilantes, no one cares about their lives.

Martin looked at the ferocious security guard, took out a pen and paper like a magic trick, and his mouth twitched.

It seems that he still underestimated the influence of this identity.

After reacting, he did not refuse these people's requests.

"What if you are caught for leaving your post like this?"

"If you are caught, you will be caught. Anyway, this museum is often visited by criminals like Catwoman, and Batman can always find things back in the end."

The security guards surrounding Martin didn't care about the safety of the museum at all.

"We are just a group of soy sauce. Gotham is in such a mess. We can still stay here and not run away. We are worthy of them."

This is really Gotham's characteristic!

Martin shook his head and signed for all the security guards, and asked them to take him to the crime scene left by the Riddler.

The security guards who successfully chased stars surrounded Martin and walked into the museum.

No mistakes, one post, one content, one content, one book, one bar, one 6, one 9!

Walking in the empty museum, the shoes collided with the ground and made a "tapping" sound. After being reflected by the wall, it mixed with the next round of footsteps, which was simply an amplified noise maker.

Martin covered his ears, suppressed his dissatisfaction with the museum's stupid designer, and scanned the exhibits around him, discovering that a Renaissance-themed exhibition was being held here.

He used to be an archaeologist, adventurer, and cultural relics appraiser, and soon smelled the smell of the Renaissance from the oil paintings or statues intentionally exposed to private parts.

The peripheral exhibition is just some unknown works. Most of the authors are unclear, only archeological value, without commercial value.

But after gradually deepening the corridor, Martin saw celebrities such as Da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Dante.

However, now on the exhibition platform, except for a few riddles written by green paint, the rest is the only air.

Martin turned around the exhibition platform, smashed his mouth and said, "His, Wayne Group is really rich! These stolen artworks are added together, even if it is low -cost treatment, it can sell hundreds of millions of people. Is the price? "

"Hundreds of millions?"

The eyes of the security guards are like light bulbs, and the whole person has become the shape of the dollar.

This is a number that they are tied together, and they can't eat or drink nor can't they save in their lives.

If they ...

"Don't think about it. Cultural relics are not selling drugs on the street."

While inspecting the alarm mechanism of the exhibition desk, Martin explained to these security guards: "Almost all famous cultural relics are fried in the market, so if you want to realize the stolen goods, you must specialize in the rich people who have no money to spend. You People who can't even get in the auction house, don't touch this. "

Martin's words are like a pot of cold water, which extinguish the greedy fire that has just burned in the security guard's heart.

If ordinary people want to live in Gotham for a long time, they must learn to be contentment and recognize the boundaries of their abilities.

While speaking, Martin had removed the alarm device of the exhibition desk.

He was preparing to climb out, and he heard a very unpleasant abuse from outside:

"*Gotham's rough mouth*, who makes you come here? It's really a group of lazy goods. If you don't want to do it, you will get me out. Now Gotham is the most lack of fighters,*Gotham's rough mouth*..."

"I asked them to come here."

Martin frowned and stood up, looking at the young people at most 30 years old, wearing a suit, recognizing that he was the curator of this museum, Andy Rosen.

This guy enlarge his photos at the door of the museum, and it is difficult for others to think about it.

“原来是马丁先生。”

安迪瞬间变脸，一改盛气凌人的鸟样子，对马丁谄媚极了。

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