I Originally Wanted to Pad Out Two Chapters

The waiter at the entrance of the Continental Hotel widened his eyes as he watched a motorcycle with enormous wide tires charge straight at him, hurriedly dodging to the side.

Boom!!

The hotel's bulletproof glass doors shattered with a thunderous crash.

Along with the steel frame by the wall, which crumpled as easily as papier-mâché, they were crushed into twisted scrap metal beneath the motorcycle.

Screech, screech, screech!

Next, the motorcycle skidded in a circle across the lobby floor, leaving conspicuous black tire marks.

Then it came to a stop.

The man on the motorcycle dismounted. He wore a suit of pitch-black armor and a pointed-eared helmet. A chill glinted in his eyes as he calmly swept his gaze around the room.

At the entrance.

The waiter who had successfully dodged reacted.

He drew a gun from his waist and aimed it at the man before him.

"Batman?"

He happened to have seen the recently released blockbuster film and knew exactly which character that costume represented. "Where did this lunatic come from? Don't move! You think you can cause trouble at the Continental Hotel? I'm afraid you're not quite—"

Bang!!

Anton remained expressionless. With a flick of his large hand, he threw a bat-shaped dart.

Splat!

Blood gushed like a fountain, and the gun fell to the floor.

The waiter's wrist had been severed. Wearing an agonized expression, he clutched his stump and stood in a pool of blood, staring at the man dressed as a movie character with utter horror in his eyes.

He's serious?

That thought surfaced in his mind. He had no intention of fighting to the bitter end, much less seeking revenge. After picking up his severed hand, he turned and fled.

He couldn't afford to provoke someone this ruthless.

As for his severed hand, if he got to a hospital quickly enough, it could still be reattached.

He had heard there was a surgeon named Strange who was quite good.

At the same time.

Anton's arrival drew the attention of the Continental Hotel.

"Someone's causing trouble?"

"Killing people at the Continental Hotel means you've broken the hotel's rules. Are you looking to die?"

In an instant, the hotel guests instinctively retreated.

The other waiters, along with the assassins gathered there, all turned their eyes toward Anton, who stood beside the motorcycle in the center of the lobby.

"Rules?"

Anton glanced at the person who had spoken, his voice low. "I came here to establish new rules."

"Kill him!"

Someone shouted.

Before the words had even faded, people raised their guns and pulled their triggers in unison.

Whoosh!

To their astonishment, the motorcycle vanished.

So did Anton, the man playing Batman who had been standing beside it.

Clack, clack, clack!

Bat-shaped darts shot out one after another.

The brightly lit Continental Hotel suddenly plunged into darkness.

Blurry shadows flickered continuously.

Bullets left their chambers, and the muzzle flashes could only illuminate the shadow's towering form. They could do no harm to Batman in the darkness.

"Ahhh!"

"Where is he?"

"Shit! I'll kill you!"

The top floor of the Continental Hotel.

Winston received a report from his subordinates and opened the surveillance feed on the television, only to see complete darkness.

Yet the roar of gunfire and the ceaseless screams suddenly filled the entire room.

"Who's causing trouble?"

His brows furrowed tightly, his eyes brimming with fury.

"Uh..."

His subordinate paused before reporting, "Batman."

"Who is he?"

Winston had never heard that name before. Listening to the uninterrupted gunfire and screams coming from the black surveillance screen, his expression grew grave. "Who is Batman? He can't be some nobody."

"He's a movie character."

His subordinate's expression was strange.

Honestly, when he had received the report, he had felt exactly the same as Winston.

"A movie character?"

Winston looked utterly baffled, but the anger in his heart did not diminish in the slightest.

No matter what, someone had barged into his territory and trampled on its rules without restraint... This was no longer simply a matter of face.

If he failed to handle this properly, he might even have to surrender his position as the man in charge of the Continental Hotel.

The High Table would not tolerate such an affront to its dignity.

"Mobilize every assassin!"

Winston's face turned icy. "I want him dead in front of me immediately."

"Rest assured."

His subordinate nodded. "The order has already been issued."

"Mm."

Winston's gaze was deep as he suppressed his rage. Then he added, "Investigate Batman's identity. I want to know what exactly is going on."

The Continental Hotel lobby.

In the pitch darkness, a massive bat-like shadow moved through the dim corners, seeming to float in midair as it stripped every assassin present of their ability to fight.

One after another, they fell gravely wounded into pools of blood, yet none of them died.

Their successive defeats filled the entire lobby with groans, turning it into a living hell.

The assassins lay in their own blood, enduring excruciating pain. Watching that phantom-like figure continue weaving through the crowd like a Grim Reaper holding a scythe, their eyes filled with terror.

If they had been given another chance, they swore they would not have stayed to shoot at the enemy. Instead, they would have turned and fled like the first waiter had.

This was Batman's way of fighting violence with violence.

In a sense, when it came to terrifying gangsters, even Joker's intimidation could not compare to Batman's.

What Anton intended to do was build his own order atop the Continental Hotel's corpses.

After this battle, he would not only make Batman's name truly appear in the underground world, but also let everyone know that this Batman who had burst onto the scene was no insignificant child's-play character.

Very soon.

Amid cries of agony everywhere, Anton headed for the stairs and transformed into a stairwell god of war.

After his warm-up, Anton grew increasingly familiar with the skill information in his memories that belonged to Bruce Wayne. This enlightened, transformative change was probably best described by only two words: cheating.

In short, Anton refused no challengers among these ordinary assassins. However many came, he took down.

Boom!!

The sheer power of the shotgun made Anton raise his eyebrows.

A Black man in a sharp suit, exuding an elite air, stood in the corner with a shotgun in hand. With his back against the wall, he narrowed his eyes and focused, tracking Anton's movements through faint sounds.

Clearly, he was not surprised that his ambush-like first shot had failed to hit Anton.

He was probably an assassin on John Wick's level.

There were quite a few capable people at the Continental Hotel. Most were skilled in killing and interrogation techniques, but unfortunately, Bruce Wayne had long since mastered all of that.

Anton calmly stepped into the corridor.

Boom!!

The Black man turned and pulled the trigger.

Batman's basic armor was, frankly, only a little better than a bodysuit. To avoid compromising mobility, it was merely equipped with a light power-assist system. It was nowhere near as exaggerated as those world-destroying suits of armor, but it still gave Anton's current combat ability a certain boost.

The key was that with the armor's protection, Anton could finally fight without holding back.

Bang!!

Anton stood still and let the tremendous impact spread across his chest.

"What?"

The Black man's eyes widened, revealing an astonishing amount of white.

He had never expected that the armor worn by this mysterious man who liked role-playing could withstand even a powerful shotgun.

This was no ordinary equipment.

It rivaled military technology!

At that moment, names such as Stark Industries, Hammer Industries, and Osborn Company—advanced arms manufacturing giants from the Marvel world—flashed through his mind.

"Heh."

The corner of Anton's lips curled up as he arrived in front of the man.

Bang!

With only one punch, he sent the Black man blocking his path flying, leaving him sprawled on the ground and coughing up blood.

Then, he stepped over the fallen man and arrived before a metal door.

Bang!

Another punch shattered the circuit board. Using the skill "Erudite Knowledge," he easily opened the supposedly impenetrable metal door.

Inside the room.

A man holding a glass of whiskey stared at Anton with an ugly expression.

"Winston, I thought you could let me pad out two chapters."

Anton sounded rather disappointed. "Turns out you were gone in one chapter."

.