Chapter 107: Cats Death

Chapter 107: Cats Death

In the theater of the Gotham Manor district, Schiller took a glass of champagne from the waiter's tray and clinked glasses with Mrs. Leto in front of him. Schiller exclaimed, "There are not many lively and dignified parties like this nowadays. The parties in the city are too noisy, and the sound gives me headache."

Mrs. Leto stroked her white hair and said, "It was the same in our day. Young ladies and gentlemen were often very shy, and no one dared to hold hands at such parties. But you know, those young people nowadays are too wild. Once I went to the Golden Cup Mansion in the city center, and I was shocked. The clothes they were wearing were less like clothes and more like curtains."

Schiller laughed and said, "After all, everything is developing too fast now, but it's also a good thing. The economy seems to have improved a lot recently."

Mrs. Leto agreed, "That's true. The rent for the two apartments on Fourth Avenue that I rent has increased by more than half. I don't know how those gangs are making money. I'm still negotiating with the bull on Elizabeth Street about buying another apartment."

"Madam, you are wise," came a deep voice from beside them. A man with a small mustache walked over and lightly clinked glasses with Schiller and Mrs. Leto. He then said, "Hello, my name is on my business card."

Schiller took a look at it and said, "Manager of the Golden Cup Company? Are you a real estate agent for the Falcone family?"

"That's right. I work for The Godfather, but of course, our Golden Cup Company is also an independent and legitimate company outside of the Falcone family, providing real estate services throughout the East Coast."

"As you know, we have recently been working with Chicago, and the land there is also being driven up. I came to this gathering to introduce the real estate of various eastern cities to you wealthy gentlemen and ladies."

Mrs. Leto was quite interested and said, "I heard that the scenery in Chicago is better than in Gotham. What do you think if I buy a villa there?"

"Are you Mrs. Leto? You asked the right person. Chicago is indeed good, but if you want to buy a retirement villa, I would still recommend Imperial City. The scenery there is really beautiful, and it's unique among the entire East Coast. And as you know, it's much safer there than Gotham or Chicago."

"Although I really like the tropical atmosphere of Imperial City, there are too many casinos and tourists from other places. I feel like I wouldn't have any peace if I lived there," Mrs. Leto frowned.

"Well, then I recommend Miami to you. It's a really nice city with a wilder beauty than Imperial City's order. Of course, the gangs there are small potatoes compared to Gotham, but with your husband's abilities, buying an estate there should be no problem," Schiller said.

Mrs. Leto fanned herself and said, "I was just thinking of discussing this with him. Although our family has lived in Gotham for generations, the weather here is just too unbearable. If we could spend a month or two vacationing there, it wouldn't be bad. After all, we're getting old and Gotham's air is not conducive to longevity..."

"I heard that the mayor is interested in developing a city air purification system with Wayne Enterprises and promoting it nationwide, which can regulate the climate in local areas, but this may take some time," Schiller said.

The manager with the gold cup said, "If that's the case, that would be great. Actually, I don't understand why Gotham's location is so good, but why are there so many rainy days? If there were three or four months of sunny days in a year, the beaches here would definitely drive tourists crazy."

The manager was right, the quality of Gotham's beaches was very good, because they had hardly been developed. After all, no one would be crazy enough to come here on vacation, except for locals who occasionally used them. It could be said that Gotham had the best city beaches protected in the entire eastern city.

The waiter came over with a tray again and the group took some cookies, drinking and eating while talking about the future development of Gotham. During the conversation, Schiller noticed a black figure flash outside the theater door, as if someone was watching them.

The theater was brightly lit because of the dance, but the mansion side was pitch black. This old-fashioned mansion community was not big, and there were not many residents. Once a dance was held, almost everyone attended and their houses were naturally empty.

Unlike Bruce who was busy with his internship, Catwoman's days haven't been going so well lately.

She was a thief, and her main source of income was stealing. Of course, she was one of those high-end thieves, not a street pickpocket. Catwoman's thefts mainly targeted expensive jewelry from jewelry stores or stamp collections from collectors.

But due to the reforms in Gotham, the city's nights had become busier. Jewelry stores, gold and silver jewelry stores, and watch repair shops on the main streets were now open at night, with employees and security guards working in shifts.

Seeing that the window could not be opened, she climbed down the balcony directly. She tried every window but found that the owner of the manor was extremely cautious. All the windows were locked with strange locks, even the small windows in the attic.

But hard work pays off, and the old English Manor has a special structure. In the medieval English estate, a hidden door is left at the sewer outlet of the toilet for the servants to clean the accumulated dirt.

Although this mansion was built in a modern era and did not require this function, the medieval drainage channel seemed to have been preserved, perhaps as a tribute to the building designer's affection.

Catwoman was petite, just the right size to crawl through this secret door into the bathroom. She thought to herself, luckily no one had ever used this passage before, otherwise she wouldn't have dared to crawl through it.

Catwoman was highly skilled in acrobatics and very agile. When she crawled out of the bathroom, she landed without making a sound. What frustrated her even more was that the bathroom door was locked!

How paranoid is this person about being robbed?

Fortunately, the owner of the manor probably found those fancy locks troublesome too. It might be difficult to unlock in case of an emergency, so the lock on the bathroom door was just a regular iron lock.

Catwoman could easily pick this kind of lock. With just a few moves, she managed to unlock it and silently approached the table.

She eagerly picked up the bottle made of diamond and held it up to the light to admire it closely. Now she was sure, this must be the diamond.

However, what puzzled her was that she had never seen such a pure diamond before. Whether it was the color grade or the clarity grade, it was almost flawless, nearly perfect in appearance.

What was even more confusing to Catwoman was that inside this beautiful bottle, there was a pool of black dirty water, or rather, a sticky black slime.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but she felt the slime move slightly. Nevertheless, she was captivated by the beauty of the diamond bottle and couldn't wait to put it in her collection cabinet.

So she didn't care what was inside the bottle and simply stuffed it into the small pouch around her waist.

With the windows and doors all locked, Catwoman was worried that the owner of the mansion might come back and she wouldn't be able to escape. Besides, getting such a beautiful diamond tonight was already enough.

Catwoman followed her original route and left, even taking the time to use a special method to hang the lock back on the outside of the bathroom door and lock it, restoring it to its original state.

Back at her own home, Catwoman took out the bottle and examined it from all angles. The more she looked at it, the more she liked it, but the more she looked, the more the black slime inside the bottle bothered her. What kind of lunatic would use such a beautiful bottle to hold a pool of sticky black slime?

Catwoman wanted to pour out the contents inside, but the seal of this bottle was very special. Its cork was not the usual wooden cork; it had a series of complex buckles and seemed to have a miniature lock.

Catwoman had never seen this kind of technology before and didn't understand it. But she only knew one thing: the diamond was the hardest gemstone in the world. So she could use force to break the cork without harming the beautiful bottle.

So she took out a pry bar, file, and pliers, and pounded and smashed at the mechanism on top for a while. Apart from one buckle slightly loosening, the whole cork remained firmly in place.

Catwoman was exhausted and gasping for breath. In a fit of pique, she threw the bottle onto the bedside table and went to sleep. She planned to wait a few days until the heat died down and then find a professional to help her open it.