The Ghoul Leader?

"Hoo... damn it..."

After taking two steps, Downton bent over to grip his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

"It hurts, indescribably painful, yet I feel filled with strength from head to toe. Adrenaline, is it? Thanks for your efforts in keeping me from dying again and making me even stronger; I really fucking thank you."

While mocking himself, he straightened his back and tore off the tattered rags barely clinging to his body.

The clothes were stuck to fragments of his skin; every time he ripped off a large piece, he couldn't help but groan in agony.

Especially when he tore the fabric away from his crotch, the pain was so intense he nearly laughed out loud.

Having finally stripped off all his clothing, Downton turned to the side and walked toward the last surviving soldier like a vengeful demon.

Looking at the humanoid creature before him, whose skin was mostly gone while muscles and tendons still twitched, the soldier's mental defenses completely collapsed.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

He screamed hysterically while instinctively firing his gun again and again.

Ding!

A bullet lodged against Downton's teeth.

Pfft!

A bullet sank into Downton's arm.

Braving the hail of gunfire, Downton stood before the soldier, watching expressionlessly as the man emptied his magazine.

Then, he reached out and pressed his right hand onto the soldier's head.

Crack!

Splat!

First came the crisp sound of a shattering skull, followed by the dull thud of a brain cavity bursting open.

White and yellow matter splattered across Downton's face, partially obscuring his vision, so he raised a hand to wipe his face.

Even though the blood felt as slick as lubricant, his face still burned with the sensation of being scorched, needled, slashed, and hammered.

Downton had to lower his hand, inhaling sharply as he looked up at the parachute drawing ever closer in the sky.

At this moment, The Master had descended to an altitude of about two hundred meters, yet he still hadn't deployed his chute, instead free-falling while meeting Downton's gaze.

With more than half of his scalp torn away and only a small patch of skin remaining near his left eye socket, The Master could clearly see the texture of Downton's muscles.

Gulp!

He swallowed hard, then nodded in satisfaction.

An immortal being ought to possess the powerful will to face such a hellish situation!

Looking at Downton now, The Master felt as if he were seeing his younger self.

He, too, had been fearless of death, having single-handedly slaughtered his way through several guards more than once, appearing before the damned in their luxurious beds just like this!

Yesterday, upon hearing the news from Jonathan, he had been skeptical and worried; he had even feared he would be disappointed.

But now...

He couldn't be more satisfied!

The person before him was clearly another version of himself, with potential far exceeding his own!

While feeling satisfied, The Master shifted his posture in the air, slightly altering his descent angle.

He raised his arms, and a hollow membrane resembling a flying squirrel suit popped out between them, allowing him to glide over Downton's head like a swallow.

Watching The Master soar overhead, Downton was slightly stunned.

"A third party dressed like this, the League of Assassins?"

After asking himself this, Downton chuckled and rubbed his scalp.

"Hiss!"

After a sharp intake of breath from the pain, Downton looked at the large piece of scalp he had pulled off, rolled his eyes in thought, and smiled.

"Ah, I can't do it anymore, it's so hard to walk, this feeling isn't free at all!"

As his voice trailed off, Downton tossed the scalp, still attached to a long lock of hair, to the side and fell backward.

A moment later.

Whoosh...

Flames ignited out of thin air, and Downton vanished; even the scalp and hair he had thrown away turned to dust in the air and drifted off.

Only a few bullets, deformed from impact, fell to the ground.

Meanwhile, near the Smallville cafe, General Lane covered his face and said in agony.

"The more this guy dies, the stronger his physical constitution becomes. Which laboratory did he come from! Another squad has lost contact; in a mere forty minutes, he tracked down and wiped out thirty-five of my men!"

Am I truly ill-suited for work involving superhumans? Why is it that every time I take action, not only are the losses astronomical, but I even lose my daughter?

If I could go back to the beginning... damn it, I should have just handed this mess over to that bitch Amanda Waller!

As he said this, General Lane's eyes turned bloodshot.

But the progression of events gave him no chance to catch his breath; just as he was mired in utter despair, his adjutant suddenly warned him.

"General, an unknown third party has appeared. Dozens of people are parachuting down from above us!"

"Is that so."

General Lane responded expressionlessly, then glared resentfully toward the sky.

His men attempted to fight back, but the ninjas began hurling shuriken at them from a hundred meters away.

The shuriken clattered as they struck the ground, while bullets flying into the sky occasionally bloomed with sprays of blood.

The most critical issue was that just as Lane and his men focused their energy on the enemies descending from above, hundreds more ninjas emerged from the shadows of street corners all over Smallville.

Before Lane could react, his command vehicle parked on the side of the road had already been breached by the ninjas!

Watching the ninjas' movements, Lane felt a mix of anxiety and sudden clarity.

The cutting-edge equipment provided to him by LexCorp was all stored inside the command vehicle; these bastards were indeed coming for that advanced gear!

"Everyone, reinforcements from the National Guard will arrive in less than ten minutes. We must hold the command vehicle!

Set Downton aside for now; we lack the capability to deal with him. Our only target right now is that group of sneaky ninjas!"

General Lane roared over the communication channel, his words bringing a sense of relief to the remaining soldiers.

Over the past forty minutes, as more and more of their comrades died tragic deaths, the soldiers had long since grown fearful of Downton.

No soldier likes to fight an enemy that cannot be killed.

Especially when that guy keeps getting stronger!

As for this group of ninjas?

Compared to a devil that couldn't die, the soldiers were much more willing to risk their lives against ninjas!

Just like that, General Lane's men rapidly pulled back, gathering near the coffee shop within minutes to engage in a defensive battle against the ninjas.

Meanwhile, The Master.

After opening his flight component to glide for a moment, he quickly deployed a small parachute.

The instant he felt the dull sensation of his speed decreasing, he whipped the rope dart on his wrist, securing it firmly to a lamppost, and yanked himself toward it to climb up.

Discarding his gear with a flick, he pushed off the lamppost, performed two backflips in the air, and landed gracefully on the ground.

With one hand on the hilt of the straight sword at his waist, The Master tilted his head to listen to the prompt in his earpiece.

"Master, your target has been reborn in the fire and is currently at the intersection less than four hundred meters from you."

"Very good."

The Master smiled in anticipation, then rushed toward Downton in less than half a minute, his speed far exceeding that of Bolt.

When he came to a stop, Downton was in a clothing store on the street, snatching a pair of pants.

Noticing his arrival, Downton knocked the female sales clerk unconscious and shoved her into the back room while hurriedly stuffing his legs into the trousers, simultaneously turning his head to grin at The Master.

"Buddy, nice outfit. What do you call yourself?"

"Ra's al Ghul."

"What was that? The head of the ghouls?"

"It is the Demon Head, young man!"