Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 6248: Chicago Stories (17)

The day of the fishing competition began with clear skies. When Chicago’s weather is bright, the entire city turns exceptionally cold. It’s not the temperature that makes it cold, but the sky is so blue that everything is coated with a chilly hue. At dawn, there’s even a moment when it’s hard to tell whether it’s morning or evening. Against such a sky, Lake Michigan looks even more beautiful.

Bruce and Stark dragged the boat to the lakeside—the boat was provided by the organizers, but participants were allowed to make modifications. Most people’s boats were ready and already in the water. Theirs was relatively small, an older model of a fishing boat, which could only accommodate two people. After Stark installed the engine, it felt like putting an American V8 engine in a toy car.

“Isn’t the engine power a bit too much?” Bruce wondered, “What’s the point of such a big engine?”

“What do you know, speed is very important.” Stark patted the boat’s side and said, “Our boat is small and inherently agile. The big engine enhances acceleration and turning capabilities.”

“Are you here to fish?” Bruce questioned, “Why do I feel like you’re here for a boat race? Is the prize awarded based on who drives the fastest?”

“Not exactly, but to win the championship, a fast boat is essential.” Stark shook his head, “Let’s go, let’s give it a try.”

By this time, some people were already scattered along the lake shore, making preparations with blue boxes, sun hats, and fishing rods, while receiving life jackets from the organizers. Bruce turned his head and asked, “Aren’t we wearing life jackets?”

“Can’t you swim?” Stark asked.

“Doesn’t it matter?” Bruce shook his head. “Engaging in water activities in wild waters necessitates wearing a life jacket, because the lake water is cold, and falling in might cause cramps. No matter how good you swim…”

Bruce stopped mid-sentence when he realized the life jackets provided by the organizers weren’t proper life jackets. Regular life jackets should be filled with firm foam, but these were inflatable life jackets.

These life jackets are disposable, functioning like a balloon. You inflate them, and they float on water. They obviously aren’t reliable, usually used in cramped spaces like airplanes, not seen worn for lake fishing.

Suddenly, Bruce felt something was off about the fishing competition.

He looked at Stark, who remained calm and was operating the fish radar to check if there were any fish nearby. They had trained here for a few days, knowing fish would surface in the morning due to feeding. Stark checked and said, “Not bad, we’ll fish here later.”

The lake surface was vast and indistinguishable. Bruce found it surprising that the competition had no marked boundaries, no floating markers, no judges or lifeguards, seeming a bit unprofessional.

As daylight brightened, most participants arrived. Bruce glanced around and saw some were ordinary residents, while others looked like locals—wealthy, famous small business owners. This group usually had time to fish and weren’t wealthy enough for professional venues, usually stirring things up at local lakes and reservoirs, displaying their luxurious gear. Significant clients for Stark.

As Bruce and Stark returned to their boat, a plump manager approached, shook hands with Stark, and said, “Came early, Tony. Look at what you’ve done to your boat, my god, it’s like you’ve dismantled a yacht motor.”

Stark chuckled and replied, “I can’t compete with you on the outskirts; we’re rushing to the inner waters, naturally needing a faster boat.”

“You’re right, buddy.” The manager laughed, “I’ve bagged the outer area today; no one can snatch any fish from me.”

They discussed techniques for operating boats, while Bruce focused entirely on adjusting the fish radar, avoiding any socializing since recent events at the Brotherhood.

Luckily, these anglers indeed focused more on the fish. Those approaching Stark mostly asked for help adjusting their engines, except for two young women inviting them to fish together; everyone busied themselves.

Once the competition started, Stark didn’t bother with the previously surveyed fish groups, speeding the boat inward. Their boat was undoubtedly fast, leaving others far behind. Chicago’s buildings grew smaller in view; they’d reached deep waters.

“If you weren’t a superhero, I’d think you’re planning to murder and throw bodies here,” Bruce joked.

“This is indeed a good place.” Stark responded, “But if I were to kill, I wouldn’t choose here; biological degradation is too slow, better to throw it into a high-temperature incinerator.”

Bruce muttered again thinking, “Really don’t know which of us isn’t normal,” then focused on fishing. Even though they only had one fishing rod, there was much to do: checking radar, preparing bait, always watching lake movements.

Before coming, they’d prepared some sandwiches and snacks. While waiting for fish to bite, sitting on both sides of the boat, Bruce shared stories from a banquet, causing Stark to frown frequently.

“The biggest problem is that you’re leisurely fishing here.” Stark commented, “Do you think it’s possible that the police are setting a trap?”

“What do you mean?”

“I usually underestimate the police in every major U.S. city, but this time might be different. There’s someone capable in the Chicago Police Department.” Stark said confidently.

“Of course,” Bruce mumbled, “Having him as a police officer is a waste. If he had a bat suit, he’d be Batman.”

“I’m guessing they let you out to see how you react,” Stark speculated, “It’s a good way to investigate, revealing more clues about your background, otherwise it’s hard to explain how Eric got out.”

Bruce nodded. If his suspicion level wasn’t that high, it’s possible he’d be released. But in a normal investigation process, Eric couldn’t possibly be roaming free. Everyone knows she’s the party darling and assumes he was in the pink bunny suit, and he has no evidence to prove otherwise. Letting such a prime suspect wander makes it hard to imagine the pressure on the police.

However, if it were Arkham Batman, it’s possible. He could have already made a mark and gained some standing in the Chicago Police Department, making it feasible for him to propose and execute such a plan.

After Eric got out, besides finding his family, he should have come to Bruce, naturally increasing suspicion on Bruce, making it look like they were in cahoots, purposely leaving Brian alive to frame him.

This logic is actually quite coherent. They knew each other before reporting, and they went to the Brotherhood’s interview together, despite a little spat at the door, which could be performance. Any less shrewd police officer would follow this line of investigation.

But it wouldn’t fool Arkham Batman, Bruce thought. Luckily, he’s the one in charge now. Arkham Batman would focus on Brian, and wouldn’t let him out to fish like Eric. Brian’s dirty secrets would be thoroughly exposed by Arkham Batman.

It’s even possible that Arkham Batman isn’t focused on the carnage case. He might investigate it under the guise of solving it but actually take down the more sinister-than-heresy organization entirely, letting no one escape.

Stark reached the same conclusion, “When they get to you, you won’t be able to escape. Think about how to explain yourself.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” Bruce shook his head, “The person you’re talking about is another Batman. He wouldn’t target me.”

“Your relationship with Batman isn’t that cozy, is it?”

“Exactly, they know how tough I am,” Bruce smiled, “They know I wouldn’t do such things. Dealing with me is bothersome; they won’t bother me when busy, or I’d waste their time, even Joker isn’t as efficient.”

Stark chuckled, “I told you the Battleworld should’ve put you in the Joker’s group.”

Amidst laughter, they caught their first fish. It wasn’t big but quite lively, jumping around the boat before Bruce put it in the tank. Then, they seemed to hit a school of fish, catching one after another, none too big but plenty. In these fishing contests, total weight matters, but the number of catches takes priority for prizes.

“Let’s head back and show off,” Bruce suggested, “What’s the point of fishing if you don’t boast about it?”

So Stark maneuvered the boat back, but took a slower route and avoided the crowded areas, staying close but not mixed in.

Just as they stopped, chaos erupted from the crowd. Somehow, a boat lost control and crashed into another, capsizing both, trapping people underneath.

Onlookers leaped into the water to help, but the runaway boat went berserk, roaring through the water. The rescuers scrambled back to their own boats, steering away.

Some sped away swiftly, engines revving, while others moved sluggishly. The mad boat flipped two more, but luckily, the crew anticipated and jumped ship, avoiding entrapment. Inflatable life vests, though unreliable, kept them afloat.

Stark, taking advantage of their speed, circled from the other side, bypassed the fleeing boats, reached the people, pulled them aboard, then went to the overturned boats but couldn’t right them. Bruce dove in, trying to rescue those beneath, but the inflatable vest snagged on the boat. After several tries and breath holds, he barely managed to pull one out.

Maybe hindered by the carnage case, it took over two hours for the police to arrive. By the time they reached the lake’s center, they found the crashed boat and the four on board had all drowned.

Even the one Bruce pulled out had suffocated under the boat, despite their attempts at CPR failing. Bruce could tell from the police’s dark expressions how dire the situation was.