The Man in Armor

"Tony Stark, you're the benefactor fate sent me!"

Seeing that his fan points had reached the target, Anton was beside himself with joy, tap-dancing across the floor.

He had thought he would have to wait until tomorrow to redeem the Batman main template. Unexpectedly, after Betty promptly spread the news that the movie was "Tony's posthumous work," Batman instantly shot to the top of the trending searches, drawing countless people's attention once more.

Those who had originally had no interest in the movie decided to buy a ticket for the "deceased" Tony.

After watching it, these people often thought Batman was cool as hell and felt the trip had been worthwhile, so they joined Batman's fan club.

They contributed both money and effort.

His fan points rose at an incredible rate.

From daytime to night alone, the day's growth rate was already comparable to the fastest surge on the day the movie premiered.

"Redeem!"

Anton immediately entered the system space and redeemed Batman's basic template.

Something miraculous happened.

Anton, who had been just over 1.8 meters tall, suddenly shot up several more centimeters, reaching 188 centimeters.

The muscles all over his body rippled and tightened, every single one brimming with explosive power. His eight sharply defined abs in particular were as hard as meter-thick steel plates.

At the same time, something was crammed into his mind.

Before his eyes, a skill panel visible only to him displayed a string of text.

Ultimate Physical Fitness, Vast Knowledge, Unyielding Will, Martial Arts Master, Detective Master, Tactics Master, Language Master, Intimidation Expert, Interrogation Master, Technique Master, Escape Master, Disguise Master, Tracking Master.

A dense array of skills had all lit up!

Anton sucked in a breath. Batman really was fucking inhuman.

Combined with the information that had just flooded his mind, he felt sincere admiration for Batman's efforts.

Bruce Wayne was a man who had pushed human potential to its absolute limit.

Top-tier combat skills, extraordinary intelligence, and high-tech weapons—none of these three essential assets could be absent. They were the secret to Batman's invincibility.

With a thought—

The basic armor immediately materialized around him.

Bat-Helmet, Batsuit, Bat-Gauntlets, Utility Belt, Bat-Boots, Bat-Signal, Bat-Cape, Batarangs, Bat-Grapnel Gun, Bat-Cable Launcher, and more.

The basic armor's accompanying equipment appeared in a system toolbar visible only to Anton along with Batman's basic armor.

"Gulp!"

This was way too awesome!

Anton suppressed the urge to burst out laughing and continued exploring the delights brought by Batman's main template.

He saw that the toolbar also had a vehicle option.

[Vehicles]: Batmobile, Batplane, Batcycle, Batboat, Batjet, Batcopter, Bat-Sub, Batboat.

He selected the Batcycle.

Whoosh!

A motorcycle with enormous tires and heavy firepower equipment such as machine guns mounted on both sides instantly appeared on the floor before him.

Fortunately, his room was spacious enough. Otherwise, the Batcycle would have been rather difficult to hide.

Looking at this uniquely styled, exaggerated, wildly imposing motorcycle—

Anton mounted it in an almost prone position. He lightly twisted the handlebar and felt as though it were an extension of his limbs.

After trying it out for a while, he got off in satisfaction and waved his hand. The Batcycle, the basic armor, even his increased height and abs, all vanished.

Restored to normal, he felt inexplicably empty, just like on those nights when he had been drained dry.

"Since that's the case, I might as well stay in Batman mode all the time. The physical changes aren't that drastic, and it'll be easy enough to pass them off as the results of working out."

Anton stroked his chin.

With another thought, he returned to his strong Batman form.

The changes to his body were secondary. What he truly loved was Batman's armor.

He summoned it to cover his body and kept stroking it, the cold touch filling him with delight.

He suddenly understood why Tony Stark had become so obsessed with making Iron Man armor after becoming Iron Man.

What woman could be more fun than lifting iron?

Following the information in his mind, Anton activated the various functions of Batman armor's vision system.

Infrared scanning. Thermal sensing.

Hm?

Anton noticed a figure creeping toward him outside the room, not far beneath his window.

The human-shaped heat signature moved forward inch by inch.

His expression turned strange.

A thief?

This was a high-end villa district. The security guards could not possibly be that unprofessional.

Especially at night, when patrols were increased.

Now this was interesting.

After pondering for a moment, Anton brought over a small stool and sat down by the window.

As he familiarized himself with the operation of Batman's armor, he watched the figure climb up to his window.

Whoosh!

John Wick carefully pushed open the window and lifted the curtain.

Then he froze.

Before him sat a man in cool, high-tech armor, wearing a helmet with two pointed ears, cross-legged in a chair.

A pair of deep, seemingly magical eyes watched him with amused interest.

The instant he saw him, the man's lips curled up, and his body abruptly vanished from sight.

Not good!

John Wick suddenly let go, intending to jump from the second floor onto the lawn and escape. But his head was struck hard without warning, and his body flew backward uncontrollably, landing sprawled on the grass.

"Hmph!"

He let out a muffled grunt. His mind went fuzzy for a moment, but he ignored the pain and instinctively got up to run.

Fortunately, the lawn's soil was soft. As the king of assassins who had fought through countless battles, he had adjusted his posture while falling from the window and was not seriously injured.

Bang!

However, the figure that seemed to lurk within the darkness followed close behind, darting left and right.

John Wick had barely taken a few steps when pain shot through the back of his knee, sending him tumbling forward again.

"Shit!!"

He gritted his teeth. Knowing his opponent was difficult to deal with and that he could not escape, he immediately made a decision.

He stood still, raised his gun, and focused, trying to catch the figure in the darkness.

"Heh heh!"

Whether it was an illusion or not, a low laugh drifted through the wind, seemingly mocking John Wick for overestimating himself.

Whoosh!!

The figure drifted in with the wind, approaching from afar and rapidly growing larger in John Wick's vision.

Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

Pew pew!

The silenced pistol swallowed its muzzle flash. Bullets, heated by the barrel, tore through the air and flew straight toward the shadow's chest.

Clang!

The sound of that impact filled John Wick with despair.

The armor was bulletproof!

That was cheating!

That was the final thought that flashed through his mind.

The next moment, darkness fell over his vision. He lost consciousness and collapsed onto the lawn.

When John Wick opened his eyes again, he was already bound in chains in a dimly lit basement, unable to move.

Before him stood the same mysterious man in armor and a helmet, with astonishing combat skills.

"Talk."

The man crossed his arms and looked down at him from above, utterly domineering.

In a commanding tone, he asked, "Who sent you?"