There is no Batman in Gotham City comics.

Chapter 98 Interlude: Dark Dawn

First to return was the Batmobile carrying Dick, followed closely by the minibus the heist team had transferred to. Finally, Qin Wei and Royce arrived late.

Reus stepped into the factory, tripping and breaking the trigger wire that Oswald had just set up for the mine.

"Damn it, Ben, you should be glad my end isn't plugged with a bomb yet!"

"You should be glad! Otherwise, if you had blown us all to bits, who would have fought against Deathstroke?" Royce muttered, squatting down to tie the rope and tossing a cigarette into his mouth.

"Huh? Where's my lighter?!"

In the corner, Qin Wei pulled back his armor and examined his shoulder injury through Selena's makeup mirror. Old wounds hadn't healed, and new ones had appeared; his body covered in bruises made him look like an apple ravaged by hail.

At this moment, he missed the traditional Chinese medicine for bruises and sprains from his hometown terribly.

Selena grabbed a few packs of ice from the little penguin's portable refrigerator, and Qin Wei trembled all over when they were placed on his shoulder.

"Are you feeling better?"

"He's about to ascend to heaven."

He slowly leaned back until he was completely pressed against the chair back. More than the physical pain, the mental exhaustion was the real torment.

One wave of events after another hit Qin Wei, making him feel like Prometheus, tied to a cliff and having his heart pecked at by a giant eagle every day.

The difference is that Prometheus brought fire to mankind before he was tortured, but what about him? He couldn't even bring fire to Gotham, let alone his future was shrouded in darkness.

But Qin Wei knew he was about to part the dark sea and reach the dawn within reach.

Before that, he will face the deepest darkness.

Slade Wilson, as long as he maintains the fighting level he displayed in the Green Arrow series, will undoubtedly be Qin Wei's biggest obstacle so far.

Worse still, without the screenwriter's interference, this guy will no longer show mercy to those marked as prey.

A bullet that won't miss, a sharp blade slicing down towards the neck—every move will be a killing blow.

"Hey, you look like you have something on your mind," Selena asked with concern in her ear.

"I'm fine... Jason is keeping watch on the rooftop, you can take this opportunity to rest."

Qin Wei reached out to take the ice, but Catwoman had no intention of letting go, and their hands remained tightly clasped together.

"Wei, once everything settles down, we..."

With the atmosphere set, taking advantage of this rare free time, Selena suddenly wanted to confide something to the man in front of her, but she was rudely interrupted halfway through her sentence.

Qin Wei suddenly sat up, realizing something big.

"Why hasn't Floyd come back yet!"

In his plan, Death Shooter should indeed be the last to return to the team, but all of this depends on the premise that everyone can retreat successfully.

First he encountered the Joker gang, and then he was harassed by the "white-faced" guy. The time he had already wasted was enough for Floyd to make a round trip.

Qin Wei hesitated, holding his phone. If the other party had been captured by Deathstroke, would the mercenaries skilled in finding and assassinating people be able to find this place through the phone signal?

Without the comic book hints, Qin Wei is unable to gain a comprehensive overview from a god-like perspective.

His concerns were not unfounded, but in reality, Deathstroke had been lying in ambush in the attic of the apartment in the southeast corner of the warehouse for a long time, watching as one prey after another walked into the warehouse through his scope.

Pick them off one by one? Anyone who thinks that is insulting Deathstroke. This arrogant and conceited mercenary has no interest in picking them off one by one; he wants to create a brutal massacre.

"One more is needed. Freud, hurry up and give them a heads-up, make sure these guys are prepared! I won't hold back this time."

Of course, Slade himself was unwilling to admit why he had informed Floyd of the plan in advance, and why he had to wait until Floyd appeared before taking action.

In fact, Deathstroke was quite wary of Deathstalker, fearing that Floyd would not show himself but instead hide in some corner and take a sneak shot.

Subconsciously, he had already regarded Floyd as an evenly matched rival.

……

Shaking the amber-colored solution in his hand, Hugo Strange then pinched the dropper to draw a few drops of blue liquid from the petri dish, mixed and shook it well before pouring the mysterious green solution into a syringe.

"Solomon Grendi's blood will give you new life. Although you are a complete failure, you bear the mission of bringing him back."

Squeezing out a stream of liquid and flicking the needle, the doctor clamped the syringe and injected the entire mixture of the mysterious reagent into the naked man on the experimental bed.

The reagent worked quickly.

The man suddenly opened his eyes, the whites of his eyes turning blood-red as if a drop of red ink had been poured into them. Then, with a series of faint tearing sounds, every blood vessel burst out of the skin, as if someone had planted an ancient tree inside the man's body, and these blood vessels were the winding roots that sucked blood.

The iron chains binding the man creaked as they were pulled, and brown rust fell from the joints.

Even though he had expected it, Dr. Hugo still quietly took a few steps back and gripped the remote control tightly in his hand.

The entire mutation process lasted about half an hour. When the doctor untied the ropes, a bluish-green foot stepped onto the ground.

If this fake bat was too thin a month ago, it is now almost the same size as Qin Wei. However, compared to Qin Wei, who gained weight from eating junk food, its body fat percentage is frighteningly low. Blood vessels and muscle texture can be clearly seen under its taut skin.

"Come and test your strength!"

The doctor pressed the remote control, and the man walked to the corner expressionlessly and smashed the hanging sandbag to pieces with a single punch.

Sand and gravel flew everywhere, and the ear-piercing explosions made the glass jars on the test tube rack rattle loudly.

The doctor then took a pair of scissors and plunged them into the man's lower abdomen with a soft "plop." The strong muscles gripped the blade like a pair of giant hands; even with all his might, Hugo could only push the tip of the scissors in five centimeters. And despite the powerful contraction, no blood flowed from the wound.

As soon as the doctor withdrew the scissors, the wound healed almost immediately, leaving no scars.

"If you still have any sense, you will be the most perfect humanoid creature in the world."

"Roar! A perfect humanoid creature? Forgive my bluntness, Dr. Strange, but how can a genius's brain be filled with bloated muscles!" A sharp male voice rang out from the darkness.

Dr. Hugo turned his head, his face showing displeasure.

He knew that annoying new employer had returned.