Chapter 347: Chance Encounter on the Corner
The Interrogation at the GCPD
"Hello, Mr. Shaw, I apologize for taking up your time, but we really need your help."
"It's no problem," Luke said with a smile. His relationship with Barbara was complicated, and whether privately or professionally, cooperation was necessary.
"Tesla's original intention in manufacturing this armor was certainly not for terrorist activities, Commissioner Gordon. I will fully cooperate with your work, and I hope the culprits can be apprehended and the stolen armor recovered as soon as possible."
Seeing Luke's cooperative attitude, Jim Gordon and the police officers nearby sighed in relief.
As the group walked into the Gotham City Police Department (GCPD), word of Luke's arrival quickly spread throughout the floor. Looking at the young man in the suit, who was gradually shedding his boyishness, everyone showed an expression of awe.
Despite having only been in Metropolis for a year, this young man had become a household name.
The popular rumors about him were too numerous: the ruthless, cold-blooded crime prince... the playboy who slept with different actresses every night... the human CPU with an IQ over 180... the youngest billionaire in history, and so on.
With the blessing of these many halos, Luke had become an existence ordinary people looked up to.
Following Jim Gordon into his office, there were two other people inside: Jacob Isaacs, a senior FBI agent, and Musang Quinn, an A.R.G.U.S. department head.
It was clear from their positions that A.R.G.U.S., more than the FBI, was the most concerned party, as the one hundred missing suits of armor were meant for them.
"Alright, gentlemen. Let's skip the pleasantries. If you have anything you want to know, just ask. As long as it's relevant to the case, I will fully cooperate."
Jim Gordon took a drag from his cigarette. Perhaps due to a lack of rest, his slightly aged face was etched with fatigue.
"Mr. Shaw, the armor produced by your company should all be equipped with a positioning system. Can we use a computer to find the exact location of the armor?"
Luke raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jacob Isaacs and Musang Quinn, and asked with a slightly perplexed tone,
"Did the two of you not inform Commissioner Gordon?"
Neither spoke. Jim Gordon immediately frowned. "Mr. Shaw, what do you mean? Is there something I don't know?"
Luke coughed. "Commissioner Gordon, I'm afraid I cannot answer your question. If you truly wish to know, I can only tell you that Tesla cannot locate the armor."
Jim Gordon paused, his gaze shifting between the three men. Gradually, he seemed to understand something, and an unspeakable anger flashed in his eyes, which he had to suppress.
"Second question. What are the functions of those armors, and what are their defensive capabilities and destructive power levels? This concerns the safety of my officers, and I need the specific data."
Luke looked again at Jacob Isaacs and Musang Quinn. He discerned a hint of conspiracy from their silent expressions. Seeing this, he shook his head mockingly.
"Commissioner Gordon, let's discuss this another day."
With that, he stood up and left.
Jim did not stop him. If he didn't understand the complex maneuvering by now, his decades as a police officer would have been wasted.
Clearly, the one hundred suits of powered armor were not the ordinary suits recently circulating on the market. They were highly likely to be military-grade equipment, loaded with various weapons and possessing extreme combat capabilities.
Damn it!
Jim Gordon slammed his palm onto the desk and exclaimed with a dark expression,
"No matter what agreement you reached with Tesla, I'll make one thing clear: Gotham is my jurisdiction. If you want help here, you'd better explain everything clearly."
"I will never risk the lives of my officers!"
The Price of Fame
The three hundred suits were custom-made by Luke for the White House. Unlike standard armors, they were genuine weapons of war. Frankly, even an ordinary person wearing one could wipe out a professionally trained special forces squad.
Luke was actually reluctant to produce military equipment at this juncture, but the pressure from above was too great. Not wanting to expose his relationship with the President, he used financial subsidies as a condition.
He just didn't expect the third batch of armor to be stolen by thugs of unknown origin.
To steal from the military so brazenly, that group must either be extreme terrorists or have extremely deep connections.
Judging by the current situation, it was likely the latter. The cooperation between Tesla and the White House was classified information, known to very few, let alone terrorists.
After leaving the police station, Luke did not immediately depart but walked slowly down the sidewalk. The whole incident was too bizarre; he needed to think it through carefully.
Following last year's cleanup, Gotham's security had significantly improved. Yet, oddly, while the crime rate dropped, the economy did not recover. Instead, a wave of unemployment emerged, which was truly perplexing.
Luke couldn't figure out what was wrong with this city. Was it cursed by a demon?
Walking around a corner, a gorgeous woman strode towards him. The girl wore black-rimmed glasses, her reddish-brown hair tied in a ponytail. She wore a trendy long shirt, loose-fitting jeans, and white sneakers, creating a unique aesthetic that was both fashionable and intellectual.
"Long time no see, Barbara. You've gotten even more beautiful."
Barbara sized Luke up. A subtle mockery was visible on her delicate face.
"Oh, isn't this the renowned billionaire playboy, Young Master Shaw? What's wrong? Tired of fooling around with your supermodel girlfriends? Did you come here for some wild game? Are Hollywood actresses not appetizing enough?"
Luke threw his hands up in exasperation. "Barbara, do you really think I'm the kind of creature who thinks with his lower body?"
The girl sneered.
"I fail to see where you're not."
"That's heartbreaking to hear. The reality is I haven't talked to a woman about anything outside of work for months. As for those online rumors..." He paused, then added, "...With your intelligence, you can surely judge their truthfulness."
Barbara laughed coldly. Although she and Luke had had an "extra-friendly" relationship twice, that was half a year ago. In the intervening months, Luke's status and reputation had undergone a massive change.
News about him partying all night with supermodels and actresses was common. God knows how much of it was true.
"Want to find a place to talk?"
"I don't want to be the female lead on tomorrow's entertainment page."
Barbara snorted and turned to leave.
Luke sighed with slight resignation. This was the cost of fame. As a billionaire, he had become the prey of certain supermodels and actresses. They wanted to use Luke's status and background to boost their careers. This led to many "female leads" staying silent or even tacitly approving when tabloid reporters fabricated sensational news.
Luke couldn't be bothered with these matters and didn't have the time to deal with them. Over time, he was branded with the nickname "Playboy."
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