When Harley opened her eyes, she found herself huddled in the corner of a broken room. She tried to lift her arms and found that one arm seemed to be dislocated. She used her other hand to roll up the sleeve and saw that
Looking at the bruises on her forearms, combined with the abrasions on her waist and sides of her legs, it seemed like someone had dragged her here by the arms.
Except for the first movement, Harry did not move. He still half-closed his eyes and only used the narrow field of vision under his eyelids to look at the environment in the room.
Harley is a native of Gotham, so she looked around and knew that this was probably the dormitory of a black factory. It was said to be a dormitory, but it was actually a room separated from the factory for child workers to rest. There were almost all of them here.
Fifteen or sixteen children her age.
Harley spent almost five seconds recalling how she got here, and then she also realized that this might be some kind of illusion, and she knew that this was an environment built by a friendly party, otherwise the location would not have been Gotham.
After thinking about these things clearly, the first thing Harry did was to close his eyes and sleep.
This body has probably never had a full meal. It has been working for a day and is shaking all over from exhaustion. Perhaps it offended the foreman and dislocated its arm. It is very likely that there will be no food for the whole day tomorrow.
If you don't take the time to rest and let your body adapt to this state, you may end up comatose due to low blood sugar soon.
Harry slept until the next morning.
It wasn't until the faint light shone through the crack in the door that Harry had time to take a closer look at her appearance. The little girl she possessed was about seven or eight years old, and was as thin as a chopstick with an egg stuck in it.
.
Her arms were weakly placed on the side, and her face looked much better. After all, Harley would not be afraid or worried. After a solid sleep, at least she was fully rested mentally.
After regaining a little bit of strength, Harley first pressed her arm on one side and pushed it up. After a groan, her arm was hung up.
Harley found that her guess was indeed correct. This was probably a habitual dislocation. After pushing her arm back, her movements were not affected except for soreness.
After a while, a fat woman wearing a greasy apron came in, carrying some leftovers in a basin and dragging a dirty bag full of hard bread behind her.
After she threw these things into the room, the originally weak child jumped up like a hungry tiger and rushed towards the food crazily. Harry was the most agile and did not even look at the dish with soup.
, hugged him with his arms, and grabbed at least five large pieces of hard bread.
Holding three in front of her chest and two more under her arms, she flexibly arched her body and rolled on the ground. She kicked away a child who was running slowly and blocked the road, and shrank to where she was originally.
That corner.
She placed all four pieces of bread in the gap between her back and the corner of the wall, then leaned her body tightly against the corner, protecting the bread airtightly, and then tore it with her teeth like a wild beast.
The only piece of bread in my arms.
Just kidding, she was someone who had been homeless in Gotham, Harley thought. Just two days after her parents died, her uncle drove her out with gangsters. The incident happened suddenly. Harley had no weapons in her hands. In order to save her life
I can only leave obediently.
A middle-class girl was suddenly displaced. She had no gang connections and was very beautiful. Harley did everything she could to survive. She hid on the street for three months, let alone the street.
The other children and stray dogs all starved to death because they couldn't catch her.
It took Halle just a few dozen seconds to stuff a large piece of hard bread into her stomach without even choking. Then she jumped on the child next to her and bit his ear.
.
The boy next to him let out a scream. Harry wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, pushed the child away, picked up the bread that he had thrown away because of the pain, completely ignoring the sand and soil on it, and then
He stuffed it into his mouth like a starving ghost.
Several children around her shrank in their direction out of fear. On average, Harley's eyes fell on someone's bread every three seconds, and the people she stared at quickly grabbed their food and hid aside.
The food that the black aunt threw in looked like a lot, but there were fifteen or sixteen children here. If it were distributed evenly, each person would be able to get a piece of hard bread about the size of a fist, and then dip it in vegetable soup with salt and sugar.
Basically, it’s the level of not having enough to eat but not starving to death.
But the problem is that eating here depends on grabbing. Hallie grabbed five pieces of bread alone, which means that four children may have nothing to eat. But in fact, bread is not the focus of the fight. The plate of food that was brought in
The area around the soup was the area where the fighting was most intense.
Although the bread can wrap the belly, the vegetable soup is hot, and there is butter in it. It has the fat that these children are most in need of. You can clearly see a small group controlling the vegetable soup basin, and there are a few stronger ones around it.
Some of the children stared eagerly but did not rush over. The other children who were too thin and did not get the bread could only squat next to them and stare, hoping to get some of the remaining soup base.
But in another corner of the room, there was a boy who looked out of place. He had very conspicuous red hair, a very typical Caucasian sunburn on his face, and his body looked stronger than the others, but he squatted
The corner said nothing and did not move.
Harley naturally noticed something unusual about the boy. She looked at the boy from head to toe and determined that he should be little Bruce.
There is nothing particularly difficult to judge. After all, Bruce is not the Batman in the future. Some of his habitual little movements are not deliberately concealed. Harley has long discovered that when Bruce is thinking, the index finger of his right hand will habitually
Lightly on the arm.
Harley laughed in her heart. She didn't even have to think about it to know that little Bruce must be thinking. The content of his thinking was definitely who brought him here, what conspiracy the other party has, where is this place, how to break this trap, etc.
of.
Harley took another vicious bite of the bread and curled her lips. She remembered that in the days after she was just kicked out of the house by her uncle, she sat on the embankment of the Gotham River and thought like this all day long.
As a result, she would have starved to death if she hadn't found a hidden trash can on the corner of the street and no one had dug through it.
After Harley finished eating the small piece of bread she grabbed, she took out another piece of bread from behind and continued to devour it. After taking a look at little Bruce, she thought that this pampered young man must not know that this could be the two of them.
The only serious meal of the day.
Because only after she actually ate it did she realize that although the bread in her mouth was hard and unpalatable, it was of high quality, and such a black factory that raised child laborers would never be able to provide them with such food every time.
Sure enough, Harry's guess was absolutely correct. Apart from this meal in the morning, he only had cold water for lunch and dinner.
This is a food and seasoning processing factory. The children's job is to add bags of raw materials into the pot and stir them. Don't ask why there is no assembly line. Electricity is much more valuable than hard bread and swill soup.
For adults, a bag of raw materials weighing more than ten kilograms is not considered heavy. Even if it is tiring to carry and stir back and forth, it is not considered heavy physical labor. However, the people working here are all seven or eight years old.
A ten-year-old child had to carry bags of raw materials and stir a large pot each, without any rest at all. He worked from 6 a.m. to 12 p.m., and even with Harry's willpower, he was so tired that he felt dizzy.
There is a half-hour break at noon, but they are not really allowed to rest. They are mainly asked to go to the water room to rinse their faces and hands, otherwise too much sweat will drip into the pot.
In the water room, Harley saw a livid-faced little Bruce. His whole arm was shaking violently when he was washing his hands. If nothing else happened, he would not be able to lift his arm in a few hours.
The method of exerting force was completely wrong, Harry shook his head and thought, without tightening the core, exerting force on the waist, back and shoulders at the same time, and only using the strength of his arms for stirring, he would not even be able to last until the next day.
Obviously, Bruce Wayne at this age has never done any heavy work at all. When his parents were still alive, the heaviest work he ever did was to carry a children's bicycle down the three steps of the manor garden, and also had to
Alfred was there to support him.
He hadn't eaten anything in the morning, and his body had probably not eaten anything for two days. By the afternoon, he was suffering from hypoglycemia.
Little Bruce almost fell into the soup pot, but the adult in charge quickly pulled him out with quick eyesight and hands, but his arm that touched the heating part below was burned with blisters.
The steward dragged him out immediately after picking him up, and little Bruce received a severe beating, because if he really fell into the soup pot, the pot of soup would be unavailable, and it would be worth much more than him.
When Harley returned to the dormitory after a day's work, she saw little Bruce huddled in the corner. There were large bruises on one cheek, neck and arms. His ankles were completely swollen, and it looked like he could not walk.
Harley didn't go to the water room to wash her face and hair, so she came back earlier than everyone else. She walked to little Bruce and squatted down, smiling broadly at him. Little Bruce recognized Hallie immediately.
That crazy smile is so recognizable.
"We have to find a way...find a way to escape..."
"Escape to where?"
Little Bruce opened his mouth and was about to speak when Harley made a sound with her tongue and said: "Don't you think there is a better place outside than here? Wake up, young master! You are not Bruce Wayne.
Got it!"
Little Bruce clenched his fists, obviously feeling angry at Harley's words. He didn't understand how Harley could accept the fate of being abused so easily. Not only did she not want to resist, but she actually started working here.
.
"I belong here, Bruce." Harley's tone became rarely gentle as she said, "All the children in Gotham belong here. This is not our suffering, this is our life."
Little Bruce huddled on the ground silently, not saying a word, but his eyes showed that he did not want to accept such a fate. Harley shook her head and walked to the corner on the other side to sit down.
After a while, she said: "If you can't survive in the current environment, how can you jump out? If you can't live well and strong here, you will understand that the place you thought was the bottom,
