Another Old Acquaintance

The squad leader failed to last even three seconds after issuing that order.

The two Batmen's combined attack came too fast. Ma Zhaodi had not even had time to buy the new gun from the shop before he saw two black clouds bearing down on him—a front kick snapped his lower leg, a knee strike shattered his shoulder blade, and then came a barrage of front-facing hooks and swings, a throw from behind, and finally a finishing joint lock.

It took little more than ten seconds for the squad leader to collapse completely onto the ground. Aside from the vital areas, almost every inch of his body was battered beyond recognition, and several of his joints had twisted into bizarre angles.

The only good news was that he had passed out from the pain, so he would not have to endure any more suffering for the time being.

"Hiss."

Ma Zhaodi watched in shock from the side and could not help sucking in a sharp breath. The hand he had extended toward the shop slowly withdrew.

No need. No need. After making a rough assessment of the man's injuries, Ma Zhaodi figured that, in his current condition, the squad leader might not survive long enough to be carried alive into Gotham Hospital. If Ma Zhaodi fired one more shot, then while he still had vital signs, the man could hurry up and choose a small box he liked on Amazon.

"Is it just my imagination?" Ma Zhaodi looked at the two Batmen mowing through the crowd. "Why does it feel like they've gone berserk? Or is the Batman of the Arkham Universe normally this brutal?"

"And what's going on with Bruce? Wasn't he struggling badly in the square earlier? What is this supposed to be? Batman's ultimate evolution?"

"Old Ma,