Every person who decides to jump off a building has a heartbreakingly tragic story hidden behind them.
The ones with the determination and willpower to climb a hundred floors before jumping have even more tragic stories.
The middle-aged IT guy's name was Steve. Steve Jobber. He had lost his job.
It wasn't because of his work ability.
After the Waynes died, Wayne Enterprises held the fastest board meeting in history and cut all of Mr. Wayne's previous "non-operational expenses."
Such as charitable aid to orphanages.
Had Wayne Enterprises stopped doing charity? Of course not. Upper-class respectable people, socially responsible mature entrepreneurs—how could they not do charity? Stingy people who don't do charity will be spurned and despised by the entire society!
That said, Mr. Wayne's support for charity and public welfare… how should she put it? It was a bit obsessive.
Simply put, he spent too much money.
Nobody's money grows on trees. Why use real gold and silver to feed those uneducated, stinking liars and thieves?
Mr. Wayne was too kind. He refused to face the reality of this world.
Some people are not worth saving.
Proper charity work should involve the orphanage administrators carefully selecting truly outstanding children—at the very least, they should be good-looking and not annoying, able to fluently recite lines in front of reporters, perform a little talent, gratefully accept the check with sincere tears, and then obediently strip naked and crawl into bed.
Only such good children deserve…
Sorry, slip of the tongue. Only such good children should receive the relief and support of charity!
As for a small fry like Steve Jobber who was hired to count the needs and data of welfare institutions across the city, once the department was cut, why keep him?
Unemployment wasn't the only problem. The real issue was that he was buried under heavy loans he couldn't repay. His house and car would be sold, and his wife would take the kids and run… actually, she had already run. All that was left for him was a miserable life of picking trash and wandering for the rest of his days.
Steve couldn't accept this reality. Rather than wandering the streets with his former colleagues, he decided to end it all. Of course, he still had a tiny bit of temper. Even if he was going to jump, he would do it from Wayne Tower and splatter his brains and blood right at the entrance.
"If it can attract the attention of reporters, maybe the kids in the orphanage can still get some help."
The fact that he could say something like that proved Mr. Steve was really a good person.
"Don't just drink. Have some fried peanuts. I bought them on the way from Chinatown." Gwen sat beside him and took out her snacks. "Do you like kids?"
"I don't!"
To her surprise, Mr. Steve actually shook his head and denied it. "The bosses were right. They're a bunch of hopeless little bastards. They have no parents to discipline them, lack basic common sense and upbringing, and can't tell right from wrong. If you're kind to them, they think you have ulterior motives. Instead, the violent little gang leaders are the ones who get their support and trust."
Gwen laughed dryly. "Maybe those kids just lack a sense of security?"
"No, no, no. You don't understand." Mr. Steve shook his head. "Having kids is easy, but raising them is hard. How should I explain… do you like reading? Have you read any of the popular novels from the last two years?"
"A Song of Ice and Fire?"
"What's that… never mind. Let me put it this way. A lot of people want to create, want to write books, but most of them only think about it and don't have the willpower to keep going. At most they write the beginning, submit it full of hope, then get brutally rejected by the editor or never hear back. Many people just give up on their dreams. Only a very small number manage to persist, keep writing long-term, slowly honing their skills. That requires a huge investment of energy, learning, endurance, and confidence… Even so, not everyone succeeds. Among those people, only a tiny few get the editor's favor and actually get published."
"It's the same with raising children. No one can guarantee their kid will definitely become successful in the future. A parent's love for their child can overcome all fear and worry, but for kids without parents, no one is willing to take on that risk."
"If you were the boss of a publishing house, what kind of books would you like? Of course the ones that sell. Which do you think makes more money: the former mayor's personal memoir or an unknown writer's fantasy novel? The answer is obvious!"
The more Mr. Steve spoke, the sadder he became. He pulled a stack of documents from his briefcase and handed them to Gwen.
"This kid named Harley is a real little troublemaker, but she's pretty, cute, and smart. She gets high scores on every test and has a good chance of going to college, so someone gave her a scholarship. She wants to become a psychologist, but I think her own mental problems are already pretty serious…"
"And this Tom. He wants to be an engineer, but his grades aren't good, he looks average, he's weak, and he eats a lot. If he still had a complete family, he might have a chance of getting into college if he worked hard. But in the orphanage… no one cares about him. I heard he already left the orphanage and joined a street gang."
"And this one, Tracy. She's a Mexican girl who was abandoned not long ago. She can't even speak English and has some intellectual issues, so she can't communicate with people. She has dreams too. I saw the drawings she made. She wants to open a bakery… After that I never saw the kid again. Maybe her kidneys and corneas have already been transplanted into someone else."
Mr. Steve raised his hand and scattered the remaining documents off the top of the tower. He wailed loudly, "Every child has dreams! They also have the drive to chase those dreams! They just lack a little bit of support and love! But now there's nothing! Nothing at all! These bastards! Scum! Filth can only beg, steal, rob, or kill on the streets, then go to prison… oh wait, first they have to go to juvie!"
Gwen patted his shoulder and comforted him, "Cheer up. Maybe after suffering enough in this life, they can be reborn into a happy world next time. A happy world where race and status don't matter and every child can sit peacefully in a classroom and study."
Mr. Steve rolled his eyes. "You mean heaven or another planet? Definitely not Gotham!"