Shane and Jason slipped into the apartment one after the other.
Shane dropped Wilson from his shoulder, a wad of garbage stuffed in the man's mouth.
The poor middle-aged man grunted and tried to bounce on his hefty belly, but Jason had bound his hands and feet tight with restraints designed for dangerous criminals.
In the end, a couple of hops were all he managed.
Realizing it was useless, Wilson glared at the two figures in the dim living room, fear mingling with resentment in his eyes.
At first, he had thought the guy in white who arrived later must be a superhero. He had even tried to call out to him for help.
But the man in the white hood had not given him a glance. Instead, he had frowned and demanded to know why Red Hood had not killed him outright.
Red Hood, whom Wilson had taken for a cold-blooded psychopath, had merely gagged and tied him up.
The two had raced across rooftops, jostling Wilson until his head spun, before bringing him to this godforsaken apartment.
"I followed the energy signatures connected to Apokolips, just like you said."
Red Hood's voice came through his mask, slightly hoarse.
"After you left, I modified a tracking radar to detect the energy signatures of Parademons and Mother Boxes. I thought it would lead me straight to the Dark Side Club, but what I found wasn't what I expected."
Red Hood stopped and turned around. Whatever he did, his mask began to retract slowly, as though it were alive.
Wilson jolted. The muffled noises he had been making stopped at once, and he rolled across the floor with his eyes wide.
He did not want to see something he should not see and end up killed to keep him quiet.
His