Free Web NovelChapter 808: Chapter 764: The Fishing Begins
Su Ming leapt and spun among the high-rises, and with the Magic Floating Cloak, he could even do it with his eyes closed.
The bat-shaped shadow flashed across the street, but after experiencing a cosmic-level flood, the streets were noticeably quiet today. Not to mention the street corner delinquents who usually warm themselves by burning oil barrels, even the organized gangs seemingly had shut down operations.
Flying under the moonlight, Su Ming contemplated his next move.
Diana’s mood seemed a bit off just now, he had noticed, but for now, he chose to observe a bit; probing further could alert her to his awareness.
The two of them parted ways outside the Iceberg Restaurant; Diana went to recruit allies.
She had guessed Su Ming’s plan, that when Batman, the top benefactor of the Justice League, was unavailable, the second benefactor, Green Arrow, could easily pay Deathstroke’s hefty fee.
Whose US Dollar isn’t worth spending, after all? Wayne Group has money, and Queen Industries isn’t far behind.
Thus, she went to persuade Green Arrow to spend money; a mercenary wouldn’t break their own rules, she understood, so she couldn’t volunteer her help for free.
Su Ming suggested luring Green Arrow with the opportunity to join in, and Oliver would likely not refuse. Spending a few million dollars to join a team fighting multiversal threats would be quite the bargain, wouldn’t it?
Oliver cares less about money than Bruce, after all, Batman needs his armor, which costs billions of US Dollars per set, along with expensive Bat Planes, Batmobiles, and various bat-themed gadgets.
And Oliver? Wearing exoskeletal heavy armor while shooting arrows, climbing, or flipping around wouldn’t work; his martial arts style is light and nimble, and wearing heavy armor would ruin it.
Oliver has no requirement for transportation; any random motorcycle will do, and he relies less on gadgets as well.
The only place he spends money is on special arrows, which doesn’t cost too much. Compared to Bruce, he’s really got money to burn.
Now his chance has come; if Justice League doesn’t include Green Arrow, Deathstroke can.
Green Arrow’s attack power may be limited, but his arrows are effective for clearing minions, and Green Arrow isn’t afraid to go lethal. His past is adequately dark, making him a viable teammate.
Unlike Cyborg, who is difficult to carry along, not due to Deathstroke’s bias against past Teen Titan members, but simply because he’s unmanageable.
Cyborg’s half-human, half-metal structure means his body is asymmetrical at first glance, filled with wires, pipes, and a hodgepodge of mechanical parts beneath the surface.
It’s all dry and ragged, nowhere near smooth.
Of course, that’s just a joke; Su Ming’s real reason for not wanting Cyborg is because of the Mother Box inside him.
That thing is unclear in principle and function; Darkseid often traces it to Cyborg, and powerful villain hackers like ’Grid’ can infiltrate Cyborg’s mechanical parts and control him—it’s essentially a ticking time bomb.
Imagine being in the middle of a fight, and suddenly you’re hit with an Omega Beam; who can withstand that?
So if the team needs someone for computer and network tasks, Su Ming would rather choose Steel Armor or Barbara with lower combat power than opt for Cyborg.
But most of the time, the demand for information warfare isn’t so high, and Barry can solve problems easily—no matter the programming language, he can learn it on the spot; isn’t that terrifying?
Once Diana recruits Green Arrow, Su Ming will call in Barry, and even if Batman finds the team out of his control, he’ll have to pretend nothing happened.
Now that Ron’s team isn’t on Earth, nor is Cyborg’s team, Batman’s plan won’t align with Su Ming’s, especially with Clark holding him back; the plan’s execution speed will surely be affected.
Therefore, even if Joker previously encountered Batman, it doesn’t matter; Su Ming can keep Batman’s appearance and fly around Gotham, Joker won’t be able to resist.
And Su Ming will not only fly around Gotham but also swagger back to New York, moving into Harley’s apartment.
Just waiting for Joker to come knocking....
Su Ming is now carrying out the plan, drawing Joker out, but impersonating Batman isn’t only about appearance; he mustn’t slip during crime-fighting.
The Bat Lamp seems repaired now, and it’s shining, perfectly timed to check on what Gordon’s up to at such late hours.
He’s already close to the police station; on the damp rooftop, a small red dot flashes beside the Bat Lamp’s beam.
Su Ming maneuvered into a blind spot, ’swish’ landed on the rooftop, and the landing had to be precise—too loud wouldn’t be Batman; too quiet, and Gordon smoking nearby wouldn’t notice.
To be honest, Gordon now seems older than in the false dimension, not only with whiter hair and a hunched back, but also with a demeanor burdened with much pain.
Upon hearing the slight sound behind him, Gordon turned around, his thick beard moved, but it wasn’t in a smile.
"Batman, you’re here."
"...."
Yes, in this moment, remain silent, coldly stare at Gordon until he presents the case.
What’s coming? The real Batman is still playing hide-and-seek with Superman in the Hall of Justice.
Indeed, the Commissioner was fooled again; Su Ming’s evolved Strangulation had removed any oily exterior, making his impersonation skills even more seamless, and he perfectly matched Batman’s usual style, one Gordon had grown accustomed to.
"At midnight, a peculiar murder case occurred in the city; do you have any leads?"
"I sent Robin to investigate."
Su Ming replied in a calm and icy tone, his long cape dragging on the ground, making him just a shadow in front of Gordon.
Gordon nodded, taking a deep drag from his cigarette: "Do you want to take a look at the police crime scene report?"
As he spoke, he took out a folder, clinging to it stubbornly the whole time he waited, and now he handed it over to Batman without hesitation.
Unfortunately, this Batman was a fake.
However, since the act needs to be complete, Su Ming naturally wouldn’t refuse Gordon’s goodwill. He silently took the file and glanced at it under the spotlight’s glare.
This wasn’t the scene that Damian saw; the state of the body was completely different from what they had seen.
The situation was even more severe than he had thought. The so-called crime scene looked more like the site of a cult ritual. On a temporary altar made of pianos and chairs, there lay a corpse with its innards eaten clean.
It was a young woman, seeming very youthful, with smooth skin fitting her age, and beauty brought by youth.
She wore a yellow dress, but from the neck down to above the pelvis had become a door, as if someone had forcibly pried open the ribs.
The body lay with haunting eyes open on the piano lid, and her limbs and face were painted with strange black patterns, somewhat resembling ancient Celtic battle patterns. freewebnøvel.coɱ
Judging from the photos, the room was large, and the presence of a piano suggested a comfortable home environment.
The estimated time of death was six hours ago, so she must have been attacked after the flood receded and before Barbara rewrote the world.
Attacked at home, in a stand-alone house, with exaggerated claw marks on the walls, yet the doors and windows weren’t heavily damaged.
Su Ming closed the folder, handing it back to Gordon. Now he could confirm that what Da Mi named ’its kind’ was indeed the monster from Su Ming’s memory summoned through blood sacrifices.
This meant there must be a secret cult conducting these rituals, and the cult members must have certain financial resources to maintain the group’s activities.
Gotham may no longer have the Owl Court, or perhaps the owls have gone deeper underground, but Gotham is still Gotham, a city cast in amber gold, still so dark.
Even without the owls, other birds will appear. It used to be the mob, but recently, with Earth continuously facing crises, many doomsday cults have started to emerge again.
Spreading faith is neither too hard nor too easy. It’s like telecom fraudsters tricking people—essentially a process of constant trial and error.
The phone call goes through: "Hello, congratulations, you’ve won a prize!"
The other side: "Screw you!"
This means it’s hopeless; the other side has seen through you. No matter how much you embellish your story, they won’t believe you.
The scammers don’t care; they’ll just dial the next number and keep trying until they find someone gullible.
If the other person shows interest in the prize or a hint of greed, a few casual words of persuasion make their chance of falling for it very high.
Spreading a cult is the same logic. If they meet someone who doesn’t believe their story about the impending apocalypse and that only faith in XX grants eternal life, the other side won’t buy it.
But someone already wavering inside will quickly take the evil god as a psychological crutch, trying it out to see if it works, and gradually going insane through various rituals.
Talking logic and reason with a cultist is hopeless. They’re playing with metaphysical systems, which in layman’s terms is a group of madmen.
It’s neither particularly strong nor weak, but if no one summons it, it won’t actively appear near the city; it can be considered a monster living deep underground for a long time.
"The footprint situation outside the house." Su Ming asked Gordon again.
"Very chaotic, it’s a street close to the suburbs, the road surface is severely aged, and after the flood, Gotham has been resettled, so...."
Gordon shrugged, made a helpless gesture with his flipped hand, the glow of the cigarette flaring once across his glasses.
Su Ming understood that the area outside the scene was all mud, with footprints overlapping, something only Batman through high-tech analysis would find useful, which had no evidence value for the police.
However, even he was fake, so these footprints were useless to him too. He could only project a cold, domineering demeanor: "I understand."
Gordon had no suspicions, nodded confidently, and asked kindly: "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Have your people keep their distance." Su Ming lifted a corner of the cape, assuming Batman’s classic face-concealing pose.
Gordon’s hand holding the cigarette paused for a moment before slowly placing the filter to his lips, the red ember flaring again.
"Is this time’s murderer hard to deal with?"
"...."
There was no doubt in this question. Naturally, as Batman, he wouldn’t answer it. Even those small-time villains from before weren’t something ordinary police could handle, right?
Silence was all it took, and Gordon would imagine everything. Playing Batman in front of him was the easiest thing to do.
