Handling

In the end, Anton and Betty booked two plane tickets back to New York.

As for the private jet, they could fly it back after hiring new employees. In any case, Anton probably would not be shuttling between the two places anytime soon.

When they exited the airport, reporters who had gotten word in advance were already waiting to block his path.

American airlines were as shameless as ever.

Fortunately, Anton had made preparations and arranged for people to keep the reporters out.

Although people no longer believed he was Batman, everyone knew that even if he was not Batman, he had a close relationship with him.

That alone was enough to attract the reporters' attention.

Besides, as a genius Hollywood director, the news of him starting a company could not be hidden from these uncrowned kings of public opinion.

After Tony Stark disappeared, Anton, this newly risen rich kid, had replaced Tony as the number-one target of entertainment tabloids.

Even Anton's long-abandoned Twitter account had gained several million followers.

Of course, that was still far short of Tony Stark's tens of millions, but one had to remember that Anton's several million followers had surged within just this past month.

To a certain extent, his rise to fame had already matched that of some of Hollywood's hottest stars.

"Anton, Batman appeared in New York last night. Did you know about his actions beforehand?"

"Anton, can you tell us what your relationship with Batman is?"

A barrage of questions poured relentlessly into his ears.

Anton sighed.

Several minutes later, he finally got into the van sent by the Daily Bugle to pick him up.

Whoosh!

The vehicle sped away.

The reporters were somewhat helpless, but at least they had not come away empty-handed. They could just add some words to the story and publish it in a gossip tabloid.

[Crippled the Brotherhood and arrested Bullseye. Reward: 4 million Justice Points]

[Current Justice Points: 6 million]

Sitting in the van, Anton appeared to be resting with his eyes closed, but he was actually reviewing the system notifications in his mind.

He had spent 8 million to exchange for the Rabbit Armor, then earned back half of the Justice Points in the end. Not only had he suffered no losses, he had even made a profit.

The remaining 6 million Justice Points were enough for him to exchange for another special armor!

Though it could only be the cheapest kind.

Of course, Anton had no such plans right now.

Justice Points were best saved unless they had to be spent.

When the time came, it would be best to go straight from a bicycle to a sports car in one move.

If he could get the Hellbat or the Ultimate Armor, Anton was confident he could leave Earth and head into space to challenge Thanos one-on-one.

Provided Thanos did not have the Infinity Gauntlet.

The Infinity Gauntlet was a bug. It made no sense in any world.

It was like Shenron from Dragon Ball, granting all your wishes.

That kind of "law-like" operation could only be described as a bug.

Soon.

The vehicle left the airport.

Having finished his thoughts, Anton opened his eyes and looked out the window.

A moment later, his brows furrowed slightly as he noticed something was wrong.

Someone was following them!

A black car behind them was tightly tailing the van Anton was riding in.

Anton would not be mistaken.

Based on the experience inherited in his mind from Bruce Wayne, the black car's movements could only be described as "following."

This was a premeditated operation.

"Who is it?"

Several names flashed through Anton's mind, but he could not be sure.

The only one likely to cause him trouble was the Life Foundation, yet it was currently unable to protect itself and was negotiating an acquisition with Osborn Company.

Could it be someone Batman had offended while he was acting as Batman, and Anton had been dragged into it?

Kingpin?

A thought flashed through his mind.

At that moment, the vehicle turned onto a narrow, deserted lane. It was quite remote and had no cameras, making it the best opportunity for the car behind them to make its move.

"Stop the car!"

Anton suddenly spoke, his tone stern and unquestionable.

Screech!

The driver naturally complied with his boss's instruction.

Betty was completely baffled.

Crash!

Anton pushed open the door and instructed, "You two leave."

Looking at the black car approaching from behind, he spoke calmly. "I suddenly have something to take care of."

Betty frowned tightly.

She looked at Anton's back, then at the black car slowly advancing behind the van, and felt that something was wrong.

"Anton, what happened?"

"It's nothing."

Anton waved behind him without turning back. "Listen to me. Leave now. I'm the boss."

"Let's go."

Betty knew something had happened, but she chose to trust Anton. She told the driver, "Go, quickly."

"This..."

The driver had also realized something was off. After hesitating for a moment, he stepped on the gas and drove out of the lane.

Screech!

The black car behind the van also stopped in front of Anton.

A group of burly men got out.

"How surprising. You actually delivered yourself right to us."

The leading man grinned viciously. "I hope you cooperate properly with what comes next. Otherwise, we can't guarantee whether you, genius director, might lose an arm or a leg."

"You work for Kingpin?"

Anton glanced at him and abruptly asked.

The men before him all froze.

There was no need for them to answer. Anton already had his answer.

Without hesitation, he suddenly drove his knee into the big man's crotch. The man's face twisted in pain as he wailed and crouched down, clutching himself with both hands, unable to move.

"Get him! Hurry!"

"Grab him!"

"Don't use guns! Don't kill him! Take him alive!"

Following the ferocious order roared by the leading man, the remaining thugs quickly retrieved weapons from the car and rushed at the unarmed Anton.

Seeing this, Anton did not retreat. Instead, he charged at them.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

With just a few punches and kicks, he knocked the thugs to the ground.

Then, holding a metal baseball bat, he lightly tapped the big man he had kicked in the crotch. A helpless look appeared on his face. "Kingpin really looks down on me. He actually sent trash like you to kidnap me."

Kingpin's actions made it clear that Kingpin had not taken him seriously at all.

He had definitely been caught up in trouble because of the Batman he played.

After all, in everyone's eyes, even if he was not Batman, he surely knew who Batman was.

"I-I-I..."

The big man swallowed, his face filled with terror.

He had never expected Anton, who the files described as physically weak and uninterested in either sports or fitness, to possess such terrifying fighting ability.

"No need to say anything. I don't want to hear it."

Anton's expression turned cold as he swung the baseball bat down hard onto the man's head.

Bang!

The big man's head split open, blood flowed, and he collapsed unconscious.

Anton remained expressionless, not at all worried that the blow would kill him.

He had controlled his strength. It would not be enough to kill the man.

If he was lucky, he would spend at most a year or so in bed and be left with some lingering aftereffects. If he was unlucky, he would likely spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair or hospital bed.

Batman might never kill, but Batman's methods of dealing with criminals were far more brutal than those of ordinary heroes.

Only villains like Joker, relying on the supreme favor of the editorial department and readers, could escape Batman's cruelest methods time and time again.

Everyone knew that not killing was the bottom line!

But as long as that line was not crossed, what difference did anything else make?

Then, under the terrified gazes of the thugs lying on the ground, Anton sneered and gave each of them another hit with the bat.

Stepping over the unconscious crowd, he casually took one man's baseball cap and put it on.

After that, he drove the black car the thugs had arrived in out of the lane and headed for the Continental Hotel in Manhattan, leaving behind only a group of severely injured, unconscious thugs as proof that a fierce, one-sided fight had taken place there.