Bane Attacks

Knock, knock, knock!

Someone knocked on the window outside Chen Tao's van.

Chen Tao lowered the window and saw the punk who had tried to extort him earlier standing outside his van with a larger group, all carrying machetes and Crowbars.

"You really think dressing like Batman makes you Batman? I really thought I had you—"

Chen Tao couldn't be bothered to listen to his nonsense. He thrust out one hand, which instantly transformed into a constantly spinning off-road tire, then, while the other man was still dumbfounded, slammed it into his forehead.

"Get lost!"

Using machetes and physics against the second-generation Robin's sacred sword to rob people in Gotham? How low-class.

As he watched the punks flee in a panic, Chen Tao changed his face and picked up the microphone.

"Testing, testing. Can you hear me? Good."

He pinched his throat and spoke into the microphone in Cheshire Cat's cool, aloof voice.

"My dear mercenaries, good day."

Then he quickly switched to Deathshot's voice.

"I'm glad none of you came to blows. Believe me, that's exactly what I wanted to see. Now, untie Killer Croc."

Deathshot kept a straight face and didn't ask any idiotic questions like, "Who are you, exactly?"

He weighed whether he should keep getting involved in this mess.

He smelled a conspiracy. Yes, this was how these stories always began: an evil mastermind who kept himself hidden, tricking an inexperienced and naïve mercenary.

Mercenaries didn't accept just anyone's jobs—except for fearless experts like Deathstroke. He was superhuman, and strong enough to kill any employer who tried to set him up.

Under ordinary circumstances, however, mercenaries were still only flesh and blood. Being betrayed by an employer could easily get them killed on the spot, so people like Deathshot generally chose reliable employers through intermediaries.

For example, Ventriloquist had already proven himself to be a kind, pure-hearted gangster who played by the rules. That was why Deathshot had come here.

But this unknown mastermind...

Ventriloquist untied Killer Croc.

The beast leaped up from the ground, baring his fangs and waving his claws. At such close range, Deathshot's gun muzzle dipped.

Fortunately, the giant crocodile didn't attack them. His eyes lit up as he rushed into the pile of banknotes, painfully picking up every bill from the dust and carefully stuffing them back into the vehicle.

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

Captain Boomerang stood to the side, so jealous he practically split apart at the cellular level. "Damn it, why is my salary only—"

Chen Tao switched to Captain Boomerang's voice again.

"Don't envy Killer Croc. He only took an advance on his base salary for the next four years—"

"And I'm a generous employer. As long as you complete the missions I assign, I guarantee that every one of you here will be able to go home with several hundred million dollars in a few months. This is a job on an unprecedented scale. The only question is whether you have the guts to take it."

"..."

Deathshot immediately made up his mind. He was definitely getting involved in this mess. Not for the money, of course. He simply liked adventure.

Chen Tao continued rambling on with a bunch of nonsense. Summed up, it was:

I, rich big brother!

Your tycoon employer

Throwing money around

How to use the power of money

This pie is huge and round

Chen Tao wasn't actually good at public speaking, but it was different when mountains of U.S. dollars were piled up beside his audience.

On one side was the undeniable cash and Killer Croc, who had been won over with lavish rewards. On the other was the blatant threat of the remaining three banding together. So Slipknot forced a stiff smile onto his face, while Tattooed Man happily slapped his belly. The atmosphere quickly grew heated.

Captain Boomerang egged him on from the side. "Ah, great employer! You are so generous!"

His obsequious ugliness, like an aria from a Shakespearean opera, left Deathshot speechless.

"...Didn't you say you weren't going to accept any follow-up missions?"

"I changed my mind."

Hmph. What a money-grubbing bastard. Deathshot expressed his disdain.

Chen Tao continued.

"Then the temporary squad is formed. I've already thought of a name for you. You'll be called the Suicide Squad."

"That's a really ominous name."

"I'll add a hundred thousand dollars to your pay."

"This name is absolutely magnificent."

Who cared? Compliments were free, anyway.

Regardless, Deathshot breathed a sigh of relief. The current mission was complete. As for the missions to come, as long as he remained cautious, he should definitely be able to make it home alive.

With two hundred million dollars, he might even be able to retire, then live with his daughter...

Behind the screen, Chen Tao also breathed a sigh of relief. Once he dealt with Bane, he might be able to retire too, then live with the air...

"Once I've saved up two hundred million dollars, I'll go back home and buy a huge mansion. Then I'll take my wife—"

Pfft!

Like squeezing a bladder full of urine, Captain Boomerang's blond, eyepatched head exploded in a giant hand's grip like a watermelon. The javelin in his hand fell limply to the ground.

Pfft!

Several kilometers away, Chen Tao spat his coffee directly onto the livestream screen, then shot to his feet and smashed his head against the van's ceiling.

Time seemed to slow down.

Deathshot's eyes widened. He heard Cheshire Cat's shrill, distorted catlike cry trembling through the air. "Ambush!!!"

He saw that enormous figure... His half-naked upper body was knotted with muscle, every vein bulging and winding across him like a python.

Most eye-catching were the bright green IV tubes connecting his head and arms, along with that mask...

"Bane!"

Bane often felt as though he were falling through a vast, empty void... The profound darkness gathered into an ocean.

It was his cradle, and it was his tombstone.

But it could not constrain his thoughts in the slightest.

His soul broke through its coffin and wandered through the white night where deathly silence and vitality coexisted.

He had to find that bat monster. He had to stand there, stand within its shadow, oppose it, and finally kill it! And his fear would die with it—

When that time came, all of Gotham would sing:

Holy, holy, the great hero Bane has conquered the evil demon king—Batman!

Holy, Bane! You rule over every corner of Gotham, standing above all others!

But a hero's adventure was not always smooth sailing... The demon king had sent out his minions.

That blue-faced, fanged beast, his defeated foe, had prostrated himself before the demon king for money.

It opened its sharp fangs, trying to frighten the mighty Bane.

But the hero would not be frightened.

He swung an uppercut that swayed like a pendulum. Killer Croc was sent reeling backward and crashed to the ground.

"I thought I'd already beaten you down, beast... Now I have no choice but to kill you."

The monster leaped up from the ground. Its mouth, crowded with protruding fangs, exhaled a poisonous aura... It roared as its heavy fists smashed down onto the hero's head, while its sharp claws tore at Bane's flesh.

"You want to rule Gotham, huh? Without your juice, you wouldn't even qualify as a competitor!"

Bane punched it in the face, knocking it down again.

Another punch. The rubble beneath its head flew into the air.

Another punch. Half of the beast's head was driven into the concrete.

Bane seized the wreckage of a nearby car and raised it high—

"I don't need Venom to kill a bug like you..."

Crash!

"Because I'm Bane!"

Crash!

"The nightmare of every obstacle!"

Crash!

"The scourge of every living thing!"

CRASH!!!

Killer Croc screamed loudly. The wreckage bent, twisted, and then shattered into pieces.

A gunshot rang out. Bane dodged the bullet and turned his head.

His movements were as agile as a dolphin leaping from the water. In the white night where illusion and reality intertwined, his gaze shone brilliantly.

Ah... Of course, the demon king still had other minions.