Fleeing in Panic

"You just..."

"Get lost, I'm running. Stop! Don't talk about 200 million dollars, I'm afraid I won't be able to resist the temptation. What's the point of having money if you don't have a life..."

"Exactly, you need a life. Lawton (Deathshot's real name), cooperating with Cheshire Cat gives you a chance to survive."

Deathshot's footsteps halted. He stared with a grim expression at the Ventriloquist, who had emerged from the corner. That old bastard had been a coward until now, and now...

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Lawton. I don't want to, but Baby Batman asked me to!"

The Ventriloquist spoke apologetically, but the muzzle of the Thompson submachine gun in his hand was pointed firmly at Deathshot. The glasses on his round, chubby face gleamed.

"Don't force me to act, Lawton."

A deeper, hoarser voice emerged from the Baby Batman doll in his hand.

Deathshot's heart sank to the bottom: "Arnold, you..."

"--If you don't attack him, I'll attack you."

Chen Tao couldn't help but silently congratulate the Ventriloquist on his assist.

Good! You really understand how to be an enforcer.

"Fuck!"

Deathshot cursed. The Ventriloquist was right. With Cheshire Cat in front of them, they could definitely last more than a minute. But if he started a firefight with the Ventriloquist now, with wolves in front and tigers behind, he would undoubtedly die a more gruesome death.

He picked up the rocket launcher that had been thrown on the ground.

"One minute!" he grumbled, "Just one minute!"

Then he raised the rocket launcher and fired a shot at Bane.

Empty!

"Get out of the way!"

Cheshire Cat, who was dodging and weaving, was almost blown to the sky by that shot. She jumped and rolled to the side, panting heavily, her voice no longer clear and cold.

"Bastard, you dog! You almost blew me to death!"

Countdown: 50 seconds.

Boom!

Intense flames and thick smoke engulfed Bane, but Deathshot knew very well that weapons of this caliber only had a repelling effect and couldn't do anything to him.

He fired continuously, then took three quick steps and rolled behind the wreckage of a car.

Countdown: 40 seconds.

Bane leaped out of the smoke. Cheshire Cat tried to continue to interfere with him, but Bane ignored her and turned his gaze to Deathshot, then sprang towards him like lightning. Each of his charges was like instant teleportation.

Bang bang bang!

With four gunshots, the four lights that had been illuminating the scene exploded almost simultaneously. Bane's steps faltered slightly, but the silvery moonlight still guided his path.

Boom!

The spot where Deathshot had just disappeared was blasted apart by Bane's kick, and construction debris scattered into the sky like vegetation mown by a lawnmower.

Deathshot, hiding elsewhere, didn't have time to rejoice before seeing several steel bars and huge rocks accurately hurled towards him.

"Ah!"

Deathshot cried out in pain. He narrowly dodged the lethal steel bars, but was still hit on the shoulder by a massive rock.

Damn it, Bane wasn't fooled by him at all!

Bane was an escape master second only to Batman and Mr. Miracle. Deathshot's tricks of illusion in front of him were like showing off to an expert.

Not only did this maneuver fail to delay the time, but it also allowed Bane to turn the tables and injure him unexpectedly.

Empty!

Empty!

Empty!

Even with his injured shoulder, Deathshot fired three shells in rapid succession. This rapid firing could maximize the explosive power, at least enough to delay...

Then, Deathshot watched with his own eyes as the three rocket shells he had just fired were caught by Bane with his bare hands one after another, and then thrown back at him with the motion of a demigod throwing a javelin in ancient Greece.

The round warheads reflected in his pupils.

"Fuck you."

Countdown: 30 seconds.

Boom--rumble!

Gravel rained down. Deathshot coughed up a mouthful of blood, his back burning with pain. Thanks to his excellent armor, he wasn't killed on the spot.

He wanted to get up and run, only to despairingly find a huge rock pinning his hind leg. He looked at Bane, who was calmly observing him, his eyes filled with despair.

Haha, the world's greatest marksman being killed by his own shells, wasn't this the funniest cold joke of the century?

Cheshire Cat wanted to run, but without Deathshot to tie him down, Bane quickly caught her.

With one punch, Deathshot watched helplessly as Cheshire Cat tumbled across the ground like a soccer ball, plowing through the dirt before crashing into a pile of construction debris and lying still.

Countdown: 20 seconds.

Deathshot let out a bitter laugh, then spat out another mouthful of blood.

My internal organs are probably damaged? But it doesn't matter anymore, he thought indifferently as Bane walked towards him step by step.

He recalled his entire life, scene after scene, flashing before his eyes like a carousel.

Damn it, I'm so beaten that even a carousel is appearing, Deathshot thought, wanting to laugh.

His impoverished youth, his dream of becoming a painter, the twelve bullets that pierced through his parents and sister, his broken life, his military career, becoming a mercenary, and—

His daughter.

"Zoey..."

Countdown: 10 seconds.

So.

This was the end.

This was the end of Floyd Lawton's life.

Oh moon... you are dim yet bright.

The world breathed, murmuring after the heatwave and explosions.

There is no military force here anymore...

Except me.

There is no authority here anymore...

Except me.

There is no hope here anymore...

Except me.

There is no Batman here, no one else.

There is only Bane here.

Countdown: 3 seconds.

Bane extended his hand to Deathshot, that fatal caress that ended everything—

2 seconds.

His rough palm rubbed against Deathshot's throat.

1 second.

"Die."

0 seconds.

"Bane—"

The roar seemed to come from a great distance, yet it was also right beside his ear.

Heaven and earth trembled, and the white night was stunned!

Bane's hand paused. He turned his head sharply. At the very peak of the garbage heap, he trembled all over, meeting the gaze of that god-like ultimate nightmare.

Buzzz!!!

It was like an invisible bomb exploding in the air, and an icy dread swept over Bane's massive, terrifying body, making the hairs on his skin stand on end.

What kind of eyes were those!

Bottomless darkness roared hysterically in his pupils, and an overwhelming aura surged like a tsunami. The air he exhaled was like the harshest north wind, carrying a bone-chilling cold, like the unmelting glaciers of the Arctic Ocean for millennia!

He simply stood there, yet it was as if the firmament had crashed down upon the earth like a mountain collapsing!

[If you take one more step, you will die!]

His body told him so.

Bane knew Batman never killed.

He was a good person, a superhero, and superheroes had a code of not killing, right?

But...

He felt even his genes were roaring and warning him:

[If you take one more step, you will die!!!]

Bane knew that even if Batman had the intent to kill him, he wouldn't be able to kill him. He had complete confidence in his own physique.

But... so what if he knew!

The truth was, every drop of his blood, every muscle, even every strand of hair, roared at him:

[Advance and you die!!!]

Bane didn't know how Batman did it.

He didn't know how Batman unleashed this deathly threat, like a biological hormonal response, upon his body. It was impossible, it was unscientific, but this was something Batman did, so it felt perfectly reasonable.

The true master of Gotham City roared and snarled before him, proclaiming his sovereignty. That bat spread its wings, casting a shadow upon this time, this moment, this place, announcing the arrival of the Son of Gotham!

And so, Bane abandoned Deathshot, leaping several times before disappearing behind piles of garbage and wrecked cars.

On the eastern horizon, the first ray of dawn tore through the skirt of night like a sharp sword, illuminating that nightmarish figure. He stepped on the rosy clouds, sweeping away the darkness from all corners of the world.

The red sun rises in the east, its great light shining.

The vast, long night ends here.