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After the scorching noon heat had passed, Schiller and Bruce headed to the urgent warehouse.

The work here was quite simple. Schiller worked as a record keeper, responsible for documenting each item as it was unloaded and attaching labels. Bruce, on the other hand, was a laborer, tasked with moving goods from one place to another.

While their workstations were not entirely the same, they did overlap at times. When Bruce brought in items, he could see Schiller nearby, diligently recording them on the shelves.

This arrangement eased Bruce's worries because he had been concerned that Schiller, once out of his sight, might create too many job opportunities for himself.

Throughout the entire afternoon, Bruce worked diligently. He confirmed that Schiller hadn't done anything suspicious; he was just moving between the shelves, diligently recording all the goods.

For some reason, Bruce felt a sense of relief. It had been a full five hours, and Schiller had remained normal for five consecutive hours. However, his happiness was short-lived.

As evening approached, the sky darkened. Bruce headed straight for the warehouse exit, but Schiller stopped him, saying, "Come with me to collect today's wages."

Bruce found this strange and asked, "Wages? Didn't we settle that just now?"

"Settled? Are you talking about those few dollars? Come on, we've worked a whole four hours. Do you think that's fair for our hard work?"

Bruce had a bad feeling about this, so he hurriedly followed Schiller. They made their way to the outer wall of the warehouse area, where the person who had hired them during the day was waiting.

Schiller arrived, looked around, and asked him, "The goods have been moved. Is the car ready?"

"Don't worry," the recruiter made an 'OK' hand gesture. "The previous laborer has been taken care of, and the next one is lined up. The car is parked outside as agreed, split forty-six..."

Schiller nodded without further conversation and motioned for Bruce to follow him, saying, "Come with me, we're moving some things."

On the way to find the car on the road, Bruce gritted his teeth and said to Schiller, "You're doing this to steal, aren't you?"

"I've already told you, opportunities are for those who are prepared," Schiller replied, circling around the front of the truck. He then went behind the recruiter who was preparing to get into the car and quickly used his arm to choke the man's throat.

Bruce was taken aback and couldn't react in time. In less than three seconds, Schiller had the car keys lodged in the recruiter's windpipe.

Schiller let go of his grip and left the recruiter behind. He opened the car door, got into the truck, and started the engine, turning his head toward Bruce, saying, "If you stay here and the corpse is found, you'll be the prime suspect."

"You damn murderer!" Bruce took a deep breath and looked at Schiller. He could barely tolerate Schiller's previous actions, but witnessing a murder right in front of him was something he couldn't accept.

Without even glancing at Bruce, Schiller reached for a gun from beside him and pointed the barrel at Bruce, saying, "Get in the car and don't make trouble."

Reluctantly, Bruce got into the car. During the drive, the two remained silent. However, when they finally got out of the car, Schiller smiled at Bruce and said, "Let's go see our loot for today."

Schiller's attitude seemed as if nothing had happened at all, and Bruce even suspected that he had intermittent amnesia, forgetting the tense situation they had just experienced.

Schiller opened the car door, revealing several boxes inside. Bruce saw that these were the goods they had urgently transported today.

Most of them were frozen fresh products. Schiller opened a box, revealing a variety of frozen foods, including seafood and a whole box of steaks. They all appeared to be high-quality imported beef.

"You can't keep doing this. I've warned you," Bruce said, standing behind him with a cold tone.

Schiller ate heartily, but Bruce didn't touch a bite. He looked at Schiller and asked, "Aren't you feeling guilty? This doesn't belong to you."

As he ate, Schiller replied slowly, "Bruce, let me ask you this. Do you think the resources produced by society now are enough to distribute evenly among all the people on Earth? Can the world's resources sustain the entire human population?"

Bruce thought for a moment and nodded. Schiller then continued, "I am just adhering to the principle of completely equal resource distribution. What's the problem with that?"

Before Bruce could respond, Schiller added, "Don't talk to me about the sanctity of private property. Did the people who made that rule inform me before enforcing it? Did they get my vote? Since they didn't, why should I obey it?"

"What about when someone steals from you?" Bruce asked.

"In that case, I'll take it back myself. I don't need anyone to enforce justice for me. Yes, if everyone acted like me, the world would descend into chaos. But what's your wish, to maintain world peace? Mine isn't."

"That's a twisted argument," Bruce commented.

After finishing dinner, Schiller didn't intend to sleep. Instead, he put on a coat as if he were going out. Bruce looked at him and asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find a job. Warehouse work won't cut it anymore, and I need to find a new job to support myself," Schiller replied.

Bruce suddenly felt a headache coming on. "At this late hour, where are you going to find a job?"

"I'll go out and try my luck. Opportunities are always there," Schiller said. With that, he left, and Bruce had no choice but to follow him.

It was 9 o'clock in the evening, and the streets of Gotham were already pitch black. Fortunately, it hadn't rained yet today.

As they walked, Schiller asked, "You mentioned there are jobs besides being a laborer, right? Oh, like being a waiter at a restaurant? Let's check out the food street and see if we can find a job opportunity there."

Bruce interpreted this differently, so he quickly walked up and said, "Let me be clear again, you can't kill people."

Bruce expected Schiller to argue back, but to his surprise, Schiller nodded and said, "Okay, no problem."

Bruce followed him, still skeptical, until they arrived at Living Hell, the most bustling food street nearby. Schiller began to stroll around, stopping at every storefront to talk to the shop owners or restaurant waitstaff.

This time, Bruce didn't eat, and he didn't go to the restroom either. He just kept his eyes on Schiller, determined not to let him commit any crimes in his presence.

Over an hour passed, and Schiller showed no signs of suspicious activity. He didn't suddenly disappear, make excuses to go to the restroom, or do anything out of the ordinary. Bruce began to feel uneasy and closed the distance to eavesdrop on Schiller's conversation with a hotdog vendor.

"...Yes, it's tough doing business now, with so much competition. I understand what you said earlier. Don't worry; contaminating something to give people diarrhea or food poisoning isn't that difficult. After some basic filtering, rainwater and dirty water won't raise any suspicions..."

"Don't worry, in a maximum of three days, at least half of your competitors will be gone. Now, let's talk about the compensation..."

Bruce rushed over and pulled Schiller back, then gritted his teeth and said, "You can't poison food!"

Bruce had to exert considerable effort to bring Schiller back to their place, preventing him from creating more job opportunities for Gotham through criminal means.

Bruce, who had been under high surveillance all day, was already quite exhausted. Given the inadequate nutrition, the mental strain, and the constant monitoring of Schiller, he went to sleep as soon as he got back to their room.

However, the next morning, around 5 o'clock, he heard a commotion outside the door. He groggily stood up, opened the door, and saw that Schiller had already put on his coat. Bruce asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find a job," Schiller replied casually. He continued, "I haven't found a suitable job for myself yet, so I need to start early."

As he fastened the buttons on his overcoat, Schiller added, "Yesterday, you mentioned a job with a truck and a driver. I'm planning to check it out."

Bruce, struggling to stay awake, put on his coat like a sleepwalker and forced himself to stay alert as he followed Schiller. He said, "You can't kill people, steal, or poison food..."

Schiller ignored him completely and continued to walk ahead. He arrived at the gathering place for truck drivers, looking for the gang that would lead the truck. After confirming the exact location, he began wandering around again.

Bruce could only squat on the street corner, watching Schiller move back and forth, not sure what he was planning to do today.

Bruce realized that bringing Schiller to the slums was a mistake. It was likely his brain's decision in a malnourished state, adding another burden to his slum life – watching over Schiller to prevent him from creating more job opportunities in Gotham.

While squatting on the street corner, Bruce felt incredibly tired. Just as he was nodding off, a loud "bang" echoed from the nearby street. He instantly woke up and stood up.

Bruce saw that two trucks had collided on the road not far from him, and one of them was being driven by Schiller.

The other truck driver hadn't said anything yet when Schiller got out of the truck and pointed at the damaged part, saying, "Hey, buddy, what's going on? You've smashed my new truck like this today? And it's in the territory of the New City Gang. Aren't you being a bit disrespectful?"

Not only Bruce but also some nearby gang members woke up due to the commotion. It happened that Schiller had just picked up the truck from them, and they didn't look too pleased to see Schiller's truck damaged shortly after he left.

"Hey, Claude, what's wrong with you? Are you intentionally causing trouble in our territory?" Several gang members approached the driver of the other truck, saying, "He's our new recruit, meant for the cold storage line. He just got a new truck today, and you've smashed it like this. Are you intentionally looking for trouble?"

In reality, these gang members didn't understand traffic rules and couldn't tell who was at fault, but this was their territory, and they couldn't afford to appear weak. Regardless of whose responsibility it was, they had to confront the other driver, or it would seem like their leader didn't know how to judge people and had recruited an inexperienced driver.

Schiller chimed in, saying, "I was going straight, and you turned from the side and crashed into my truck. I really don't understand; there are no blind spots here. How could you hit me?"

"I..." Claude, the other truck driver, turned his head to look at the street corner mirror. It was broken now, but after Schiller followed his gaze, he said, "Yeah, the corner mirror is broken, but you should be an experienced driver. Don't you know that you should look in the corner mirror before turning?"

Claude, aware that he was at fault, spat on the ground, took out his wallet, and handed two bills to Schiller. Schiller then handed one of the bills to the gang members and put the other one in his pocket.

Bruce, who had witnessed this collective scam, felt his head buzzing.

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 799: Deadly Jokes (Part 26) 

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