I really don't care

Moore put down his phone and put it on vibrate mode.

It's so boring... Is this how I can find something to do?

There is nothing Moore understands in Gotham. After all, he did not live here, and he is still not very familiar with criminal humanities.

Moore looked at the sun at noon, and perfectly set a goal for himself to eat first.

As the top leader of the organization, in order to find a job to do low-level things, I am afraid that I will laugh out loud if I say it.

*

Elliott Smith is an ordinary office worker—or at least that's what he is during the day.

But in reality, he has some ties to the gang.

Originally, he had no contact with him, and he himself grew up peacefully.At that time, he hadn't realized how amazing it was to grow up in Gotham so smoothly.

When he realized it, he also discovered that his father was actually a small high-level gangster.

As for what kind of gang?

Now he doesn't remember... It's better to say that there are too many gangsters in Gotham, even if you say it, maybe it won't exist in a few days... In fact, it doesn't exist anymore.

Eliot simply erased the name from his mind.

After he knew this, he also knew why he still looked so good in Gotham. He didn't experience any kidnapping or anything like that, but his father's gang didn't fall down.

However, these beautiful situations were broken one day.

The gang was wiped out for offending the larger gang, and the father was also implicated: a bullet hit the spine and paralyzed the lower body.

Elliott, who originally wanted to live a safe life, began to get involved in gangs.

He successfully established a small gang and took over the remnants of the gang who were implicated at the beginning. With some means, he made them all listen to him.

Although Elliott established a gang, he lacked the most important vision, he was not sure about people, and he couldn't see the long-term development.

His father, who was lying on the bed and received treatment, was the first thing he said when he found out that he had established a gang: "I'm afraid... your organization will only exist for a short time..."

Because Eliot had no vision.

Elliott remembered that he was very unconvinced and fell off the chair, turned around and went out.

He didn't see the bitter eyes of his father behind him.

Elliot regretted it as soon as he went out, he was a good boy with a soft heart after all.

Obviously, 23 years old is no longer a child.

This time, an organization that had sprung up in the past two years was doing business with them. His second-in-command had reminded him that this organization was not suitable for offending.

In fact, there was a transaction before, which was half true and half false, and no one found it wrong.

Elliott did not listen to the words of the second in command.

Anyway, they wouldn't find out, would they?

He must make the organization bigger——!

But to be on the safe side, Elliott decided to go by himself.The time is almost up.

*

After all, Moore's face is still conspicuous, and some people mistake him for Bruce Wayne at first glance.

After someone accosted, Moore raised his face so that the visitor could see his face clearly, and the visitor apologized embarrassingly, saying that he had recognized the wrong person.

Moore looked at the man, but didn't take him seriously, and let him go with a slight nod.

After lunch, he really had nothing to do, so he just hid in a stronghold of 'second-hand smoke', and was received by the people inside with fear, as if he were treating a fragile object.

Drinks, beer, cocktails, fruits and even women... They used everything imaginable to entertain Moore.

More, however, did not like women.

He pushed the woman away in disgust, "The perfume smells too strong." He sneezed as soon as he finished speaking.

The person in charge quickly drove the woman away.

It's just that Moore doesn't like women, and he's smelled perfume to some extent.

It is said to be a stronghold, but it is actually just a bar, but it is suitable for inquiring about information and so on. As the evening approaches, some people have come one after another.

Because there is no restriction on the entry and exit of others, they are so conspicuous.

Moore just took a sip of the prepared cocktail, it was not strong but not weak, just right.

The moment he didn't notice, someone fell into his arms.

Moore, who was about to take a sip from his cup, almost grabbed the man's arm, but when he took a closer look, he found that it was a petite, thin and slender boy.

A boy with fair skin and delicate skin.

Delicate and well-behaved, the kind with a red face...

Moore just wanted to get angry. After all, although he doesn't like this kind of thing, he has to say that he really likes boys, so he can't blame this boy, can he?

But in order to prevent the next incident, he can only pretend to be angry, right?

Moore, who didn't care much about others, thought about it.

"……Wow."

Moore froze and looked towards the source of the sound.

It's Red Hood.

To be honest, this is the first time they have bumped into each other head-on and talked to each other face-to-face.

Moore didn't explain at all, and stretched out his hand to stop the shoulder of the boy in his arms, "Red Hood."

"Moore." Red Hood read out slowly, bit by bit, with inexplicable tenderness, like sympathy. The most intimate whisper in the world.

Moore's senses were sensitive, and he immediately scanned the whole body of the red hood like a scan, but he didn't realize that this was someone he knew.

He blinked his eyes, and a bit of doubt appeared on his face just right, "Do you know me?"

The red hood didn't speak for a while, and finally seemed to give up, slumped his shoulders, and sat on the sofa diagonally opposite Moore under the gaze of the person in charge next to him.

His eyes were still on the boy in Moore's arms.

Although there is nothing to be seen from the outside, people can see where his eyes are at a glance.

The boy looked a little uncomfortable, and Moore's fingers unconsciously rubbed the boy's shoulders, as if to lure and comfort.

Seeing this, Red Hood became more and more furious. Red Hood cleared his throat and lowered his voice deliberately, "Of course I know you."

"Huh?" Moore blinked again, and tilted his head unconsciously.

The red hood stretched out his hand and squeezed the space between his brows through the hood, "After all, you are the leader of 'second-hand smoke'."

"Oh~" Moore dragged his voice as if he had suddenly realized.

Luckily he thought the Red Hood really knew him.

I don’t know what’s going on, it’s probably because Moore’s technique is really comfortable——Moore: I learned it by playing with cats——the boy in his arms let out a comfortable sigh, and took the initiative to rub up , I don't know where it hit, the boy suddenly groaned.

Startled, Moore quickly moved his hand away.

He looked down and met the boy's misty eyes, but he couldn't catch the boy's erratic gaze.

Moore gave a 'tsk' sound impatiently, and pushed the boy away.

The boy was pushed out of his arms without knowing why, and he was at a loss when he met Moore's disgusted eyes, "Boss, boss?"

Moore waved his hand, "Let's go." His tone was okay, and he didn't directly say 'Get out'.

It's okay to be a pet, but...

Moore really doesn't like it when someone is in heat in front of him, and he doesn't want to care about these things - because of his own experience, he especially hates irresponsible men.

Even if the object is a man.

More is surprisingly persistent in this regard.

The person in charge was pretty cool, knowing that it was probably not a good time, so he drove the boy away, but he didn't deal with it.

Only then did Moore free himself to look at the red hood who hadn't spoken just now.

He leaned on his arms and smiled slightly, "I just laughed."

The red hood felt inexplicably short of breath for a moment, and he blinked—it couldn't be seen from the outside anyway, and the corners of his mouth raised unconsciously, as if Moore's voice had some magical power, "It's okay."

"Thank you for not caring about my private transactions." Moore acted like a real leader, but he was strangely different from the man in the memory of the red hood.

Can time change a person so much?

Red Hood's laughter reached Moore's ears precisely, "Well, each other."

Just like when Moore saw the Red Hood fighting criminals before, he never stopped him, and sometimes he even stepped on it to help him beat him up.

Give in to each other, do each other a favor, what's the problem?Absolutely not.

Outlaws are all the same, but the difference is whether they are bad or not.

It just so happened that the two outlaws were not bad to the end. Although Moore didn't know it, Red Hood knew that they were actually brothers—in name.

Moore chatted with Red Hood for a while, and felt very strange again. He was not familiar with Red Hood's voice, but his accent gave him a very familiar feeling.

Red Hood closed his eyes, and finally thought about that unreliable Dick who recently started looking for him again...

He thought about it, but for the time being, he decided not to direct the trouble to Moore.

If he continues to stay here, it's hard to say whether Moore will be discovered earlier.

Still being implicated.

Moore waved his hand to see off the guests with a smile, watched the red hood walk out of the bar gate, and slumped back to the sofa, but saw that the time was almost up.

Moore: "..."

His expression was really reluctant, but considering the importance of this batch of goods——

Moore sighed deeply, wishing he could stay by Red Hood's side forever, he would rather chat with Red Hood than pretend to enjoy it with a boy in his arms.

The place of the transaction is not very close, Moore drove a car to go, he got out of the car and threw the key to the younger brother at the back, completely ignoring that there was an open road in front of this car, and a few cars followed behind to follow up the transaction Follow orders.

He left in a hurry, naturally he didn't know that someone in the bar had sent a message to the second in command as soon as he left.

*

Elliot Smith saw the person in charge of the 'Secondhand Smoke' follow-up transaction tonight, a tall man.

The man just glanced over faintly, and the coldness in his eyes made Elliott feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

No way……

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_(:з)∠)_Tomorrow is Thursday again (sigh.jpg)

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