Leo Returns

Leo.

The sound of the iron shutter being pulled down came from the front hall, followed by muffled curses:

"Fucking lunatics... There are lunatics everywhere outside... That laughing one... that damn thing blew up two whole blocks..."

Leo's voice trembled.

He hadn't come back for Lynn. He'd run into Joker's battlefield outside and been scared back.

Footsteps approached down the corridor.

The operating room door stood open.

The instant Leo reached the doorway, his entire body froze.

He saw the figure in black armor on the operating table, the massive bat emblem on his chest, and the cardiac monitor emitting a steady "beep—beep—beep—."

Batman?

Lying on his operating table.

The gun in Leo's hand clattered to the floor.

Before he could react, Lynn slipped out from behind the door and kicked the gun to the end of the hallway.

The entire movement was so fluid it didn't seem like the reaction speed a dropout should possess.

Leo's pupils contracted. He instinctively tried to turn and run, but Lynn was faster.

He grabbed Leo by the collar and, using a grappling technique copied from Batman, pinned the obese middle-aged man against the wall in three seconds.

"Don't move." Lynn's voice was soft, but Leo could feel that hand gripping his wrist like an iron vise.

He looked up, his clouded eyes meeting a pair of cold, clear ones.

Those eyes were completely different from an hour ago.

"Now," Lynn said, adjusting his glasses with the calm tone of someone making conversation, "I have a few questions for you."

Leo's lips trembled, his mind completely shut down.

Pinned against the wall, Leo pressed his greasy face into the moldy wallpaper and let out a string of incoherent wails.

"I'll talk... I'll talk... Just let go first..."

Lynn didn't loosen his grip.

The key to a joint lock wasn't strength, but leverage. That was what the copied combat theory had taught him.

"Talk about what?"

"I was wrong, okay?" Leo's voice carried a sob. "Kid, I was confused. I shouldn't have locked you in here..."

Lynn didn't respond. He was observing.

He broke down every detail on Leo's body into data—his breathing rate was twenty-six breaths per minute, far above that of someone normally terrified;

The orbicularis oculi muscle beneath his right eyelid twitched three times per second, a reaction that only appeared when someone was deliberately controlling their expression.

He was acting.

The fear was real. The begging was fake.

Lynn's gaze shifted downward without a trace—Leo's right hand was sliding down the wall, toward the medicine cabinet tucked against the corner behind him.

The cabinet door was half-open, and a sliver of metal glinted from the bottom shelf.

A backup gun.

Lynn calculated quickly: he weighed one hundred and thirty pounds, while Leo weighed at least two hundred and ten.

He was suppressing him through technique right now, but if Leo struggled desperately, the sheer weight difference would be enough to throw him off.

"Leo," Lynn said, "you forged Snake Eyes' surgical records a week in advance. The operating surgeon was listed under my name, dated last Wednesday, but you didn't take this job until Friday. You decided to kill Snake Eyes before you even accepted it."

Leo's body stiffened for an instant. He fell silent.

"Kingpin's right-hand man, and you dared kill him." Lynn continued, "Either you're insane, or someone has your back."

Silence.

Three seconds later, Leo gave a dry laugh. "Since when did you get so smart?"

Then he moved.

Without warning, his two-hundred-plus-pound body slammed backward.

The sheer difference in mass.

Lynn's joint lock was torn apart by brute force. He staggered back, his spine striking the edge of the operating table.

As Leo turned, his right hand was already reaching into the bottom of the medicine cabinet, grabbing the backup pistol.

The muzzle pointed at Lynn.

"Don't move." Leo panted heavily and took two steps back to widen the distance.

His gaze swept over the unconscious Batman on the operating table, then fell on the utility belt. His eyes changed.

Greed.

"Kid, you did good." He licked his lips, his tone suddenly warm. "You saved Batman. Impressive. How about this? Any piece of equipment on him would fetch millions on the black market. We partner up and split it fifty-fifty."

Lynn steadied himself against the operating table and looked at Leo without replying at once.

He was calculating the distance.

Four steps away. The muzzle was slightly off to the left. Leo's grip was tense and rigid.

There were hemostats and surgical needles on the operating table.

And the location of the safety catch on the gun in Leo's hand.

"Leo." Lynn cut off his plan to divide the spoils.

"Hm?"

"Snake Eyes died by your hand. The surveillance footage from the entire operation is still on the clinic server. Kingpin's people will arrive tomorrow morning. Do you think they'll check the surgical records first, or pull the surveillance footage first?"

Leo's expression shifted slightly. "I already—"

"Deleted it?" The corner of Lynn's mouth twitched. "This surveillance system automatically uploads backups to the cloud. Deleting the local files doesn't affect the cloud archive."

Leo's face turned a shade paler.

He had deleted the local files, but he had no idea whether there was a cloud backup.

In truth, Lynn wasn't completely sure either, but he only needed Leo to believe it.

"Second." Lynn raised two fingers. "Batman's armor has a tracking device. His people could come at any moment. Are you sure you want to make a move in front of him?"

Leo instinctively looked back at Batman.

The oppressive presence radiating from that damaged armor alone was enough to make anyone who had spent time in Gotham feel a chill in their bones.

"Third." Lynn lowered his voice. "The safety on the gun in your hand isn't off yet."

Leo reflexively lowered his head to look at the gun.

The safety was off.

He'd been tricked.

But in that half-second when he lowered his head—

Lynn picked up a number-seven surgical needle from the operating table with his right hand and took one step forward.

The moment Leo looked up, the needle had already pierced precisely into the inside of his right wrist.

The junction of the superficial branch of the radial nerve and the tendons.

Fifteen-degree angle, four-millimeter depth.

All-Things Diagnosis had marked the coordinates in Lynn's mind. It could see not only Batman's injuries, but Leo's anatomy as well.

The effect was immediate.

Leo let out a scream. His entire right hand spasmed open, and the gun slipped from his palm.

Lynn seized his numb right arm with his left hand and twisted it outward. His elbow bent backward, and his two-hundred-plus-pound body was dragged down by the torque and slammed into the floor.

A knee pressed into his back, his arm bent back to its limit.

Three seconds were up.

"Aren't you a dropout?!" Leo lay sprawled on the floor, drenched in sweat from the pain. "How do you know all this?!"

Lynn adjusted his blood-stained gold-rimmed glasses.

"You tell me."

Leo tried to struggle again. Lynn drove his knee down another inch and bent his arm another five degrees.

"Ah—don't bend it!"

"Who told you to kill Snake Eyes?"

"Falcone... It was someone from the Falcone Family who came to me!" Tears streamed from Leo's eyes from the pain. "They offered three hundred thousand for me to take out Snake Eyes, to give Kingpin a warning... I was just doing it for the money..."