Marcus believed that no one was born evil.
This rule might have exceptions in this world but Victor Fries wasn't one of them. He had once been a brilliant cryogenic scientist. He and his wife were soulmates.
Just as Drake described, his wife had also fallen victim to a terminal illness one with no effective treatment anywhere in the world. Victor didn't surrender to despair. Instead, he devoted himself to researching her disease, hoping to find a cure.
But her condition was already beyond saving. With time running out, Victor used his genius to create a high tech cryogenic chamber freezing her life functions in suspension, buying time for his research.
But Gotham's darkness devours even the most beautiful stories.
One day, the company funding Victor's research attempted to shut the project down for profit related reasons. A violent confrontation followed. During the chaos, cryogenic gases leaked, triggering a catastrophic accident.
Victor survived miraculously. But his cellular structure was permanently altered. His body became cold blooded. To survive, his temperature had to remain below freezing. Exposure to normal room temperature meant death.
He built a cryogenic armor suit and ice based weaponry. Then he began killing seeking revenge on everyone involved in the incident. Gotham gained another tragic supervillain. And lost a brilliant scientist.
Victor kept his wife frozen, continuing his research, funding it through robbery and other means. Even so, he was considered one of Gotham's less dangerous villains.
The scene snapped back. Marcus sighed.
"Do you have any grudge against the doctor who gave you that advice?"
"…No. Why?"
Marcus was certain Drake genuinely thought about it.
"Then do you know Victor Fries's current situation?"
"I heard that after an experimental accident, he disappeared along with his wife."
Good. At least Drake hadn't crossed paths with Mr. Freeze yet. Otherwise, Marcus would already be planning his escape route.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know…" Drake clutched his head. "We finally settled down here and now all hope is gone. I just wanted to rob some money tonight. Enough to pay next month's medical bills…"
His voice broke.
"And then I ran into you! I even believed you could help! I brought you home! I'm an idiot. I can't save her. I'm useless… I'm f***ing useless…"
Marcus didn't stop him. Drake had been crushed under despair for far too long. Letting it out was necessary.
Marcus pulled over another metal chair, wiped off the water, and sat down as well. The cold stabbed straight through his skin. Looking at Gotham's blurred lights, Marcus sighed softly.
Bad luck always snaps the weakest rope. Misfortune always finds the suffering.
"Click."
A key turned. The rusted iron door creaked open.
"Drake?"
Slow footsteps approached. The person sounded weak moving slowly.
"Camilla. I'm home."
Marcus and Drake entered the apartment together. A gaunt woman with no hair stepped out of the room, supporting herself against the wall. She looked frail and exhausted.
When she saw Marcus, surprise flashed across her face. After Drake finished introducing him, she smiled gently. Her smile was gentle and warm.
Even though her body was so frail it was little more than skin and bones, and her face was pale to the point of lifelessness, there was still a trace of the bright, sunny woman she must once have been, visible in her eyes and brows.
Looking at her, Marcus Reed estimated she had less than three months left maybe even less. He had never studied medicine, but anyone with a normal pair of eyes could tell she was nearing the end.
The apartment wasn't as filthy as Marcus had expected. Drake had kept it surprisingly clean. Though the furniture and layout left behind by the previous tenant were old and worn, everything was still usable. The Lanes seemed accustomed to living here, showing no verbal or physical signs of disgust toward the rented place.
As Marcus was taking it all in, he noticed Camilla quietly pull a handgun from behind her back then calmly place it back into a drawer in the bedroom.
Clearly, if the person who entered earlier hadn't been Drake, a gun barrel would've been pressed to their head first.
Marcus relaxed within seconds. After all, this was Gotham. And this was a slum apartment. Leaving home without a gun would've been the real anomaly.
That made him wonder Was Drake's gun real or fake?
The thought had barely surfaced when Drake walked into the bedroom, took out the same handgun he'd used during the robbery, combined it with a magazine from his pocket, and placed both into the drawer.
Alright. At least the gun hadn't been loaded when it was pointed at his head.
…No. On second thought, it was still infuriating.
Marcus glanced at his system interface. The beginner Save Point he'd purchased was still unused. If he'd taken a bullet in this state, his entire "start from scratch in another world" legend would've ended on the spot.
After a brief consideration, he immediately set the Save Point here.
"Save Point successfully activated. This Save Point has 20 reload uses, no time limit. When entering a near death state, you may choose to reload or abandon this Save Point."
"Note Up to five Save Points may exist simultaneously. You may cancel them at any time."
"Note You may relocate Save Points using funds, or reclaim them."