Falcone softened his tone and said, "Then why are you telling me this? What is your purpose?" Falcone's voice was no longer full of doubt as before, but had a hint of exploration.

He leaned back in his chair, which let out a slight sigh at his movement.

There was still wariness in his eyes, but there was also some curiosity.

He loosened his hands from the armrests of the chair and tapped his thighs lightly a few times, as if giving himself a rhythm for thinking.

Qin Yang sighed softly, his eyes became deep, and he said: "Sir Falcone, my purpose is very simple.

I am not a true believer in the Court of Owls. In fact, I am their enemy.

I tell you this because I believe that only a wise man like you can lead Gotham out of its current predicament."

Qin Yang's sigh sounded like a gentle breeze blowing through the room.

There is a sincerity in his eyes, an emotion that emanates from the depths of his heart.

There seemed to be a flame burning in his eyes, which was the fire of hope for the future of Gotham.

Qin Yang slowly raised his hands and made an inclusive gesture in the air, as if to show his sincerity to Falcone.

He stood straighter, as if to show Falcone his firm belief.

Qin Yang's words were like a stone thrown into a calm lake, causing ripples in Falco's heart.

He began to re-examine the young man in front of him, trying to read more information from his eyes.

Falconet's eyes wandered back and forth on Qin Yang's face, like a lost traveler looking for a signpost.

His gaze moved from Qin Yang's eyes to his nose, then to his mouth, and then back to his eyes.

The expression on his face kept changing, first confusion, then thought, and then a hint of belief.

He leaned forward slightly again and crossed his hands on the table, as if he was building a line of defense for himself to think.

There was a little more respect in his eyes, as if he finally acknowledged Qin Yang as someone with whom he could have an equal conversation.

In this dim room, time seemed to stand still.

The clock on the wall ticked away, and every tick seemed to be beating the rhythm of this tense conversation.

The air in the room seemed to become heavier, filled with an atmosphere of oppression and expectation.

Qin Yang still stood there quietly, his shadow stretched out in the dim light, like a lonely guardian.

Falcone sat behind the desk, like a dignified judge. Although his heart had begun to waver, he still maintained his calm and dignity on the surface.

Qin Yang raised his head slightly and looked at Falcone again. There was still determination and sincerity in his eyes.

His hair shone faintly in the light, just like the undying hope in his heart.

The collar of his shirt was slightly open, revealing a small piece of skin, on which there was a small black mole, like a hidden secret. His hands hung naturally on both sides of his body, and his fingers occasionally bent slightly unconsciously, as if he was suppressing his inner excitement.

Falcone shifted his gaze away from Qin Yang and looked towards the corner of the room.

There was a pot of green plant in the corner. The leaves of the plant had turned yellow, as if it had lost its vitality in this depressing environment.

His thoughts began to drift away. He was wondering if what Qin Yang said was true, then what kind of huge changes Gotham would face.

There was a light in his eyes, which was an expectation for a possible future, although this expectation was still mixed with a lot of uncertainty.

His fingers tapped lightly on the table, and the rhythm became faster, just like his gradually quickening heartbeat.

Falconet raised one eyebrow doubtfully, his eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze piercing Qin Yang like two sharp swords, his low and magnetic voice echoed in the quiet room:
"Is this your sole purpose? Or do you have a bigger plan?"

He leaned forward slightly, and the well-tailored high-end suit reflected a low-key luxury under the light as he moved. The delicate dark patterns on the suit seemed to silently tell the identity and status of its owner.

The broad palm tightly grasped the armrest of the chair, and the knuckles turned slightly white due to the force, as if he would explode in an instant if Qin Yang's answer was slightly wrong.

Qin Yang shook his head slowly, and his hair swayed gently with the movement, like black silk threads swaying in the wind.

A sincere smile appeared on her face, and that smile was like the warm sunshine in spring, slowly spreading across her face, from the slight upward curve of the corners of her mouth, to the faint dimples that appeared on her cheeks, to the sincere light that flashed in her eyes.

He said in a gentle but firm tone: “Mr. Falcone, I admit that I do have my own plans.

But my goals do not conflict with yours.

I want to see a more stable, prosperous Gotham, not a ruin overshadowed by the Court of Owls."

Qin Yang paused, his eyes revealing a longing for the future of Gotham.

He slowly raised his hand, as if painting a beautiful picture, and gently waved it in the air, “I believe that as long as we join forces, we can break the rule of the court and bring true freedom and peace to Gotham.

Imagine that the streets of Gotham are no longer shrouded in darkness and fear. Children can play safely during the day, and merchants can run their businesses with peace of mind. Gotham at night will no longer be a hotbed of crime, but will be illuminated by bright lights. People can stroll on the streets and enjoy the beauty of this city. "

Falcone was silent for a moment, staring ahead with a somewhat empty gaze, as if a fierce storm was raging in his mind.

It seemed as if possible future scenes were sketched out in my mind, and those scenes flashed before my eyes like a movie.

He saw Gotham's dilapidated streets being restored, and the once abandoned buildings regained vitality and became bustling shopping malls or warm residences; he saw happy smiles on the faces of the citizens, instead of the fear and numbness they had now; he also saw himself, no longer a gangster boss struggling to survive in the darkness, but a hero of Gotham's reconstruction, respected by the people.

Qin Yang's words were like a key, gradually opening certain shackles in his heart, those shackles that once tightly locked up trust and hope.

Falcone exhaled slowly, as if he had made up his mind, and his voice became firm, like the dull and powerful sound of an ancient bell ringing: "Qin Yang, if what you said is true, then we really need to join forces.

But before that, I need more evidence to support your claim.

At the same time, I also need to understand your true strength and plans." (End of this chapter)