Clever

Killer Croc bit the rat in his mouth to pieces. Broken bones mixed with blood dripped from his fangs, spreading red ripples through the water.

He opened his mouth and exhaled a breath of bloody, foul air.

Killer Croc, Waylon Jones, stood over 2.2 meters tall and was covered in dark bluish-green scales capable of withstanding direct rifle fire. With his gleaming claws and fangs, he looked more like a gigantic upright crocodile than a human—ferocious, yet not particularly bright.

But even with his mind subdued by primitive perception and animal instinct, he still clearly remembered the name of the person who had hurt him.

"Ba—ne!"

The name echoed through his mind like an endless scream.

He passed through the dark depths of Gotham City's sewers, searching for the scent of his enemy amid the bursts of stench, filth, and exhaust fumes.

His arm still throbbed faintly. The last time, he had lasted only one move against Bane before his arm was broken.

Killer Croc knew perfectly well that he had become Bane's tool for proving his strength to Batman. It was a tremendous humiliation, but also an unparalleled source of motivation.

The beast's fury burned fiercely in his heart. In nature, crocodiles had always been animals with an exceptionally strong instinct for revenge.

But... before taking revenge, he had to find something to eat.

At that thought, the vicious beast could no longer keep up his intimidating air.

He let out a dejected snort.

Ugh, I'm hungry. And rats aren't filling at all...

It's fine. I'll stop being hungry after resting for a while.

The giant crocodile squatted pitifully in a pile of trash. Although he was warm-blooded, he still possessed certain reptilian traits, such as liking to sit completely motionless for several hours.

But just then, his keen sense of smell detected a delicious aroma. It was so enticing that he stretched out his curled-up body like a hedgehog.

It smells so good! So good! What is that? A whole roasted pig!

Wait, the sewer I'm hiding in should be beneath a slum. Why would there be... in a slum? But it really smells amazing!

After his brain sluggishly turned over the matter for a while, it simply went on strike.

As the string in his mind snapped with a pop, his cold vertical pupils twisted into a bizarre shape.

"Good—foo—d!"

With a clang, drooling Killer Croc lifted the manhole cover and crawled out from underground. This was an abandoned open-air parking lot, littered with the wreckage of old cars and various construction materials. There wasn't a single person around.

It was deep in the night in Gotham. The thin mist had dispersed, leaving a bright moon and sparse stars. The cool night breeze entwined with the aroma, leaving kisses in every corner of the air.

Under the clear moonlight, Killer Croc saw a golden-brown roasted pig sitting in the center of the empty lot.

"...?"

Killer Croc's nictitating membrane flickered. His rationality came back online, and a distinctly human look of contemplation appeared in his beastly eyes.

It's a trap. The intention to lure me in is far too obvious. The roast pig must have been poisoned too, right?

There was no unusual scent in the air. Oh... could it be a deodorizer?

What kind of person would go to such lengths to... to... uh...

...Right. What kind of person?

I don't know.

Killer Croc's thought process jammed at that point.

Tsk, my head itches.

What was I supposed to think of next?

Forget it. Whatever. But...

Whoever set all this up, Killer Croc has absolutely no intention of retreating.

His mind was as clear as snow, yet his face wore the expression of a pig. He wobbled forward, drooling, one step at a time, toward the roasted pig.

He had already made up his mind.

Whoever was behind this had to confirm that Killer Croc had eaten the highly poisonous bait before carrying out the next step.

He, however, would refuse to play by the expected rules and carry the bait into the underground waterways.

If the other party really came down to see whether he had succumbed to the poison, the roles of hunter and prey would instantly be reversed. If they did not come, he could observe from the shadows and then launch a surprise attack.

Either way, the initiative would remain firmly in his hands.

Killer Croc could not help giving his own intelligence a mental thumbs-up.

To come up with a scheme like this in such a short time—I'm really too clever!

Then he grabbed the roasted pig.

The next second.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzt!

Hundreds of thousands of volts surged through his body in an instant, frying him until he was scorched inside and out. He fell to the ground and convulsed nonstop, his dark bluish-green scales blackened by the electricity.

Clang!

Four spotlights hidden in the trash suddenly lit up, illuminating the entire abandoned parking lot as brightly as day.

"No way. That's it?"

Killer Croc heard the people behind the scenes cry out in astonishment from the corners:

"No way, no way! Don't tell me someone actually fell for such a simple trap!"

In an instant, Killer Croc felt all the blood in his body rush straight from his feet to the top of his head!

Rationality decreased by 100%!

His brain immediately clocked out. Killer Croc let out a distorted howl and leaped up, shaking like someone with Parkinson's disease.

But because the electric current still lingered in his body, his movements looked less like an attack and more like an electronic dance.

Even so, given his weight of over 1,500 pounds, those movements were still highly destructive.

Ventriloquist practically crawled away from the spot where he had been standing. The Bat-Baby in his hand still continuously transmitted the taunts from the wireless communication module Chen Tao had installed inside it.

"That's it? That's it? That's it?"

Chen Tao was genuinely experiencing the joy of trash-talking people online in his previous life.

Especially since Ventriloquist was rolling and crawling around at the scene while Chen Tao sat several kilometers away in an ordinary van parked by the roadside, drinking coffee and observing the scene through a satellite connection and the camera installed in the doll. It was safe and comfortable.

Knock, knock, knock!

A small-time thug was knocking on the car window from outside.

"Brother, do you know whose territory this is? Here, you have to pay..."

Chen Tao rolled down the window, revealing pointed ears and Batman's half-covering mask. "Are you serious?"

The thug who had intended to extort some money looked as though he had just seen Batman. He let out an effeminate scream and turned to run.

Damn, seeing a real-life Batman in the middle of the night is enough to scare anyone to death.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Killer Croc had gone completely berserk.

"Raaaaaaaagh!"

He had barely taken two steps when his foot suddenly tightened. He had stepped into a trap prepared in advance.

Dozens of lassos sprang from the dirt and climbed over his entire body at a dizzying speed, binding him into a dumpling.

After falling straight into another trap, Killer Croc became even angrier.

But he was hungry, numb, and heartbroken, and he could not break free. All he could do was crawl sadly across the ground.

"It worked that easily? It really worked that easily?"

Deathshot emerged from his hiding place and looked disdainfully at the man dressed in yellow and blue like a superhero.

"That's enough. Stop making such a racket, Captain Boomerang. You should really thank our employer for willingly taking on the task of attracting the enemy. That's the only reason a guy like you has made it this far."

He said sarcastically, "I think that last task suited you better."

"I made two million dollars in one go from this job! And it was that easy!"

But Captain Boomerang was clearly too excited to hear anything Deathshot had said.

"Heh-heh! I have two million dollars! Heh-heh!"

He was so excited that he could barely speak coherently.

"I'm not taking any follow-up jobs. Once this mission is over, I'm retiring and going back home to get married."

He spoke with an almost reverent expression.

"This is the greatest day of my life!"

"..."

Speechless, Deathshot ignored the idiot who had come along just to serve as background decoration and said to Cheshire Cat beside him, "Message Slipknot and Tattooed Man. Tell them to come over."

Cheshire Cat nodded. She was in a good mood too. She could collect her money without having to lift a finger.

"Ahem. Although things went unusually smoothly, now that the target has been captured..." Deathshot turned and addressed Ventriloquist, who was panting heavily nearby.

"Dear employer, I'm curious. You previously forbade us from killing Killer Croc, saying that you wanted him to work for you—"

He pointed at the furious Killer Croc. "Do you still intend to do that now?"

"Of course."

Arnold cowered timidly, unable to get a word out, but the Bat-Baby toy in his hand answered for him. "I can—"

"Un—for—giv—able!"

Before he could finish, Killer Croc interrupted him. Face pressed to the ground, he writhed and unleashed a deafening roar.

Deathshot calmly lowered the hand covering his ears.

"Fine. But in fact, I think you've already made an enemy of this beast. Getting him to calm down is basically impossible, let alone getting him to work for you!"