Mercenaries, Death Knell

The third day.

Despite revealing his identity as Batman, Ba Di can still sit comfortably in his office in Wayne Tower, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sunlight gently shine through the windows, creating Lightray of colors, and slowly savoring the orange-red Ceylon Highland Black Tea.

Since last night, when Nightwing was taken to see the Court of Owls and numerous hints were secretly sent into the minds of the Court of Owls, the entire Court of Owls is now largely under control and gradually coming under Ba Di's control. Many dark forces and Talons are now in Ba Di's hands, working in conjunction with Nightwing's leadership.

In an instant, Ba Di was able to control Gotham's entire economy, and today, he conveniently promoted Gordon to Acting Chief of Police, with the official appointment to follow soon. Meanwhile, the old chief was imprisoned for corruption.

"Sir, 872 mercenaries have already assembled in the hall."

Alfred knocked on the door, then pushed it open, stepped onto the soft, dark red handmade carpet, his gleaming shoes sinking into it, and entered the office, saying...

Ba Di gently blew on the black tea in the white cup, causing ripples to spread across the orange-red Ceylon Highland Black Tea, releasing a warm and mellow aroma. He sipped the tea gently until he finished the cup of Ceylon Highland Black Tea, then put down the cup and saucer, took the tissue Ba Di handed Alfred, and wiped his mouth.

"Have you contacted Parliament, the council, and the president?"

Ba Di put down the tissue, took a step, and walked out of the office.

"We've made contact, sir. Several councilors seem to think you're in trouble and have offered exorbitant prices, practically making it clear on their faces that they want to embezzle and get money."

"As for the U.S. President, he was very interested and said that if this were true, Gotham could be used as a pilot site to carry out the plan."

"Three generals were persuaded by our military equipment and agreed to meet with us. If we can convince them, the next batch of the United States Army weapons replacements will come with $2 billion in military funding from Wayne Enterprises."

Alfred followed behind and answered slowly.

Ba Di chuckled. "I'm not here to solicit business for Wayne Enterprises. Get in touch with General Sam Lane for me. I need him."

Alfred hesitated for a moment before saying, "Sir, I tried to contact General Lane, but he seems to have a lot of opinions about you."

"It's probably because I used to be a superhero. Tell him I have a weapon to counter Superman."

"Yes, sir."

Gotham Building.

The meeting hall.

The grand hall, which can accommodate more than two thousand people, is now filled with mercenaries of all kinds, divided into completely different squads, who have gathered here in large groups, bringing with them an atmosphere of gunpowder and coldness.

There was the Bird Hunter Mercenary Squad with red ribbons tied around their heads, the Blackwater Mercenaries dressed in black, the Falcon Mercenary Squad, the War Wolf Mercenary Squad, the infamous Mike Squad who were extremely shameless yet very good at escaping, and in the corner to the side, like a ninja, standing upright against the wall, arms crossed, one eye closed, exuding a cold aura, the Mercenary King, Death Knell.

Everyone was wary of Death Knell to varying degrees, and unanimously, he kept a great distance from the other mercenaries, as if he were isolated.

Famous mercenary teams from all over the world and of all races gather here.

There are actually many more, but those who can't get through United States security checks and into Gotham prove they are neither capable nor have any reason to be here.

They were completely scattered, with small groups huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. What exactly was Bruce trying to do? "Mike, are we really going to work with them? They seem very professional," a thin, quick-witted, short Asia man with a mustache asked his leader.

This Mike was a large Russia man. In Ba Di's world, Mike was the first to surrender to Ba Di and become his Ba Di. He was later possessed and killed by Batman.

Now, he is a burly man nearing forty-five, with a serious expression that seems to radiate anger.

"Don't worry, we'll just follow along and pick up the bargains."

Mike spoke with righteous indignation and without the slightest shame.

The surrounding mercenaries cast disdainful glances at him.

Mike is capable and has extensive battlefield and firearms experience, but he is an exception among mercenaries. He is extremely afraid of death, has first-rate escape skills, and can easily abandon various missions, resulting in an extremely bad reputation.

The man with the handlebar mustache next to Mike nodded in deep agreement, indicating that he had no objection to Mike's policies.

"Bruce, that Playboy, his Batman identity has been exposed, does he want us to protect him?"

"Are you stupid? Batman alone could take on ten of you. Why would he need protection?"

"I don't believe in Batman, I only believe in the gun in my hand."

What kind of mission could he possibly have?

"Abducting a female celebrity to sleep with?"

"Ha ha!"

"No matter the mission, as long as the value is right, I'd even dare to bomb the White House."

"As long as there's money, any mission will do!"

Amidst the murmurs of discussion, Ba Di and Alfred slowly entered the Great Hall Square, where silence fell instantly.

Ba Di glanced around at the mercenaries. They possessed a sharp and ruthless edge, meeting Ba Di gaze without fear. Some even knew that Batman was him and their eyes defiantly challenged him.

"One million US dollars a month. Under my command, I will give you tasks of varying value. If you complete them, there will be additional rewards."

The mercenaries looked at each other in bewilderment. Some were alone, or in small groups of two or three, or even five people, and were already eager to move.

For a five-person team, one million dollars is a decent reward, considering they wasted a month and each received two hundred thousand dollars. Compared to other dangerous missions, the mission in Gotham would obviously be much safer.

The largest mercenary group, with nearly fifty members, was Captain Zuo Ke, who frowned and shook his head, saying, "Our team only gets $20,000 per person on average from a million dollars. A month is too long. We won't..."

"One million each! One month!"

Ba Di said calmly and coldly, "Anything that can be solved with money isn't a problem."

He had no one to rely on. Even though Batman was rich, he never considered having a large number of subordinates, so he couldn't complete his plan. Ba Di had no choice but to use money to build an army.

If Gotham is to become a brighter place, it's not something Batman can do alone. Batman can serve as a symbol, but he definitely needs capable people under his command.

One person cannot accomplish anything.

"Whoa!!!"

The entire Metropolis erupted in chaos in an instant.

There are 872 people here, which means Bruce would need to pay $872 million a month in hiring fees, an astronomical figure for this group.

Now they know why this guy can be Batman, while they can only be mercenaries.

"I agree!"

"Me too!"

"It's been a long time since I've encountered such a generous fat sheep... no, employer."

"Okay, I agree."

"After I finish this job, I'm going home to get married!"

"I agree!"

Amidst the enthusiastic responses of the mercenaries, a cold snort, distinct from the others, rang out.

The Death Knell leaned against the wall, its single eye cold and icy.

"One million dollars for one month of my life? Batman, you're dreaming."

Ba Di glanced at this loner; Death Knell did indeed possess abilities, unlike other ordinary mercenaries.

"You can be my bodyguard, two million."

"You've probably forgotten, we have a grudge."

Three million!

"I'd rather cut off your head than give you money."

Four million!

"Heh, you think you can do whatever you want just because you have money?"

Five million!

"Make a deal."