There is no Batman in Gotham City comics.

Chapter 153, Section 50: The Villain Alliance

Chapter 153, Section 50: The Villain Alliance

Gangs operate on a law of the jungle, where the strong prey on the weak. If the Judgment Knight is not a gang member, then everyone should indeed hate him to the core.

However, if the person behind the mask is Matchstick Marlon, who is revered by various small gangs, the situation is completely different.

Upon further reflection, everyone realized that the Knight of Judgment had indeed not indiscriminately killed innocent people; those with no blood on their hands, including underage children, had all been spared by him.

As more and more people's minds were opened, they put down their guns one after another.

If Mr. Malone truly stands with the gangs and leads them to establish a new order in corrupt Gotham, then everything he has done can be forgiven.

Only the last remaining hot-headed Crocodile Tyrants remained. These muscular, simple-minded men were genuinely loyal to the assassin Crocodile Weilen.

Qin Wei didn't expect that his improvised words would persuade the other party.

You should treat simple people with sincerity.

"I have never regretted killing Wei Lun."

Staring into Hans's eyes, which were filled with anger, Qin Wei immediately launched into a bombshell.

"you!"

Hans, who was already on edge, was provoked by these words and broke free from his companion's arm and rushed forward.

Suddenly, the dark muzzles of guns surrounded him.

"Mr. Wei Lun hated drugs, he couldn't possibly be Arnold's mole. You framed and killed him!"

"Am I wrong?" Qin Wei pushed aside the gun barrel that was blocking his way and approached Hans step by step. "He wants to kill me, and I'm not allowed to fight back, is that it? I don't care if he's Arnold's mole or if he just doesn't want me to win the bet. The fact is he attacked me. Shouldn't I fight back?"

"Time is of the essence that night, and reinforcements could arrive at any moment. Killer Croc has been knocked unconscious by me again. Are we really going to have to spare some manpower to carry his heavy body back to base? If he really is a traitor, and he wakes up halfway and attacks us, who will take the risk?"

Hans was speechless. The only rebuttal he could make was, "Mr. Weilen could not possibly be a traitor."

But this statement is clearly unconvincing.

"But I am not without guilt."

Seeing that the time was ripe, Qin Wei knew it was time to tell Hans, who had been stunned by the blow, some truthful words.

"Do you know why Matchstick Marlon disappeared for six months? It's because he went to a homeless community, used the alias Bruce, and spent a long time with you guys."

"You are—Bruce?!"

"Can't you recognize my voice?"

Hans's face showed complete panic; he gasped for air and covered his head with his hands.

Following the news that "Matchstick Marlon" is "Judgment Knight", another bombshell was shoved into my head.

"Bruce Weir" is also known as Matchstick Marlon, and is also the Knight of Judgment.

In fact, he had already guessed that "Bruce" was the Inquisition Knight. After all, Bruce disappeared along with the Inquisition Knight that night. What a coincidence!

What he couldn't accept was that the murderer of Wei Lun was Bruce.

Bruce's involvement in underground boxing matches and the fact that he sent his earnings to the gathering place under the name of Wei Lun was no secret within the Crocodile Gang, and everyone had long wanted to recruit him into the gang.

In the eyes of these rough men, Bruce had a resemblance to Weylen.

Now the dilemma lies with the Crocodile Gang: will they follow Weylin's will, or will they insist on avenging Killer Crocodile?

To be honest, Hans was in a dilemma. He turned to look at his companions with a questioning look, only to find that their expressions were not much different from his, with furrowed brows and a look of wanting to say something but holding back.

"Hans, we're afraid we can't help you with this." Seeing Hans remain silent, one of his companions spoke up. "But you must believe that you are the one we chose. Whatever decision you make represents the will of the entire Crocodile King Gang."

"Yes, whatever you choose, we will firmly support you!"

Hearing his companions' encouragement, Hans's gaze gradually hardened.

He was a man who didn't like to hesitate. He remembered what the assassin Crocodile Wei-Lun had told him: if there was anything he couldn't understand, he should fight the other person. Fists were the most honest and reliable.

Thinking of this, Hans rolled up his sleeves and waved to Qin Wei.

"Come on! Let's have a good fight, and then I'll tell you my thoughts!"

Qin Wei looked Hans up and down.

The other person was much more muscular and taller, almost half a head taller. People of that build wouldn't even dare to look him in the eye if they were on the street.

But he actually chose Qin Wei as his opponent.

"Are you sure? Have you thought this through?"

I am sure—

Snapped!

Before he could finish speaking, a swift punch landed squarely on his face. With half a front tooth flying high into the air, Hans, bleeding from his nose in bliss, collapsed into the arms of his companions.

"How was it? What did you feel from his fist?"

"Speed—fast!"

Before falling into a coma, Hans gave his companions a thumbs-up.

"Sigh, I've never heard of such a strange request in my life." Qin Wei shook his head helplessly, catching the half-tooth that had fallen from the sky.

By the time the Claws received news of the attack on headquarters, Bane had already cleaned up the entire crime scene, completely erasing all traces left behind—bloodstains, footprints, fingerprints—of course, only his own. The entire conference room was filled with traces of Night Owl Thomas's actions, making it obvious who should be blamed for the murder.

Bane returned to his residence, took a shower, reconnected the hose, and went out, "coincidentally" returning to Wayne Tower with the Claws.

Joseph Powers' death caused no stir, and a new batch of court members quickly took up the mantle of their predecessor.

They cleaned the house themselves, took down the blood-stained oil paintings from the walls, and rolled up the soaked blankets and piled them in a corner.

The candlelight cast their shadows on the wall. The movement of people created a current, and the candlelight also pulled at the shadows, making them writhe and squirm like eels.

The house was quickly cleaned up, everyone sat down, and the shadowy figure stopped its wild dance.

The first to speak was the guy sitting at the head of the conference table, dressed in an impeccably white suit. He took out a blue and purple checkered handkerchief and wiped away the blood dripping from the owl mask.

"The prime suspect is Thomas Wayne Jr., and based on intelligence from our ally Falcone that 'Bruce Wayne has come back from the dead,' I have reason to believe that the brothers orchestrated this massacre targeting the courthouse."

He spoke slowly and deliberately, his slightly hoarse voice sounding like a glass of fine wine.

The conference table was quiet, as if the room was filled not with people, but with lifelike dolls.

"Voting will now begin. Members who vote in favor of sentencing Isaiah Thomas and Bruce to death, please place your hands on the table."

"Nineteen votes unanimously pass. I am only representing the Court of Owls to sentence both men to death, but given that the Wayne family has a legitimate seat in the court, we must preserve an heir. Therefore, I sentence Mr. Thomas Wayne Jr. to death. Take Bruce Wayne back to Trap. Anyone who dares to obstruct him will be executed without mercy."

The man dictated the verdict, then picked up a quill pen and wrote it down on the parchment.

He handed the judgment to the members for review, then rolled up the parchment and dropped it into the small round hole in the center of the table.

"Bruce Wayne, you're being watched by the court."

>