Area

"Blackgate Prison? What were they going to Blackgate Prison for?"

Batman asked as he sprinted through the chaotic shantytowns, several figures pursuing him closely from behind.

Rat-tat-tat-tat... Submachine-gun fire swept through the area, while gang members wielding machetes screamed in panic at the bullets.

"Where do you think you're running?"

A fierce female voice rang out. Batman halted at the sound and quickly twisted aside as the wooden wall ahead was suddenly riddled with bullets.

Batman tore a smoke grenade from his belt and threw it to the ground. At the same time, he leaped up, grabbed a ceiling beam, and used his formidable strength to kick through the roof and flip himself onto it.

On the road below, a woman in a red combat suit with her right arm bare held an MP7 submachine gun. She swiftly changed magazines and chased after Batman.

As Batman ran across the rooftops, the pupil camera in his eye recorded the woman's image.

In the Batcave, Alfred used the computer to pull up information on the woman. She was Red Claw, leader of the Red Claw Mercenary Group.

The details were unclear. Though they operated under the name of mercenaries, a terrorist organization stood behind them.

There was no road ahead. Batman leaped down from the roof, his black cape already reduced to strips of tattered cloth as he landed.

Red Claw, who had been relentlessly pursuing him from behind, smiled. Blades sprang from her tactical boots, and she kicked at Batman.

The blade on her tactical boot struck the upgraded retractable blade on Batman's arm guard, throwing off a shower of sparks.

The two exchanged several attacks in mere seconds. In the darkness, only their agile movements and sparks from clashing metal could be seen.

After a few exchanges, Batman's expression changed beneath his mask. The moves felt familiar. Though he had traveled through many countries and learned hundreds of martial arts, this familiar fighting style...

There was only one place that used it, but that place...

Another collision rang out. Batman's arm guard slammed into Red Claw's kneepad, and his arm suddenly extended as his fist struck her cheek.

Caught off guard by the punch, Red Claw immediately pulled back, intending to attack again. But Batman flicked his hand and threw three Batarangs.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...

Hearing the Batarangs slicing through the darkness, Red Claw gave a scornful smile. She quickly reached out and caught two of them, while kicking the third away.

"Is that all... Aah!!!"

Before Red Claw could finish her smug taunt, the Batarangs in her hand beeped and exploded.

The explosion was not particularly powerful, but it had the effect of a flashbang.

In that instant, the Batarang blast left Red Claw dizzy and disoriented. She could barely stand and nearly lost consciousness.

Who told her to hold such specially modified Batarangs in her hands? After Miao Mu had snatched one barehanded last time, Batman had learned his lesson and specifically prepared a set of "anti-Miao Mu" Batarangs.

Unexpectedly, they worked especially well in a situation like this.

Batman advanced step by step, his eyes fixed on the red claw-print tattoo on Red Claw's exposed shoulder.

"What does the Assassin League have to do with you?"

"Heh..."

After hearing that, Red Claw's lips curled upward. Panting, she said, "You'll never know. Kill me!"

Batman raised his hand without the slightest hesitation and knocked her to the ground with a punch. At that moment, the Red Claw Mercenary Group's mercenaries arrived and opened fire on him.

Batman habitually flung his tattered cape behind him, grabbed Red Claw, and crashed into a ruined house beside them.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the slums, Miao Mu crouched with a gun in hand and nervously circled around the back of a rundown two-story building.

He peeked at the mercenary hiding in the shadows, holding an M16 assault rifle. The man wore a black hood and body armor, armed to the teeth.

Miao Mu checked the other areas as well. From his position, he could see two other firing points. There were not many mercenaries here.

Miao Mu crept forward, both hands gripping his gun as he aimed at the figure ahead. This situation was a little complicated. Should he shoot him outright?

Or... restrain him and ask about the situation?

Miao Mu quietly drew closer. When they were less than two meters apart, the mercenary seemed to sense something. People who had fought on battlefields of life and death all possessed a peculiar sixth sense.

That feeling was called instinct!

Trusting his instincts, he turned and fired. But he was too slow. The instant he moved, Miao Mu pulled the trigger.

The muzzle trembled, and bullets flew from the barrel.

The muzzle flash and gunshots flashed through the darkness. The mercenary's head jerked as though something had struck it, then he toppled to the ground.

This was not Miao Mu's first time killing someone, but his calm expression remained utterly unchanged. He had already grown used to a life where it was kill or be killed.

After the body fell, Miao Mu rushed over, seized the M16 assault rifle, and searched the mercenary's body.

Magazines, grenades, and a pistol—all of it went onto his person, making his belt noticeably bulkier.

From a pocket on the mercenary's chest, Miao Mu also found a patterned silver flask. He unscrewed it and took a sip.

Little Bird Vodka from the Arctic snowfields. It had quite a kick.

Miao Mu poured the remaining liquor from the flask all over the mercenary, slipped the flask into his pocket, and ran upstairs.

As soon as he reached the stairs at the second-floor landing, Miao Mu came face-to-face with a mercenary who happened to be coming down.

The moment they met at the corner, they could see the terror in each other's eyes even without any lights.

The mercenary immediately pulled the trigger, using the recoil to raise the muzzle and fire at Miao Mu. Miao Mu lunged at him instead, knocking him to the ground.

The stairs in this dilapidated building had only one defining trait: they were narrow. It was the kind of place where a single person could barely move while carrying anything extra.

The two grown men fell to the ground and began a desperate fight to the death. The mercenary kept the trigger squeezed, and bullets sprayed from his gun into the wall beside them amid a rapid rat-tat-tat.

The gunfire echoed upstairs like popping beans. At that moment, Miao Mu felt his blood boil, his gritted teeth twisting his face into something demonic.

One hand pinned down the mercenary's gun arm, while the other hammered into his face. The Iron Monkey Fist he had just acquired displayed its brutal combat power in that instant.

Miao Mu had no thoughts at all. He only wanted to kill the other man before the other man killed him!

The Iron Monkey Fist was an explosive martial technique created for actual combat, and it placed an enormous burden on its user's body.

But it could also inflict tremendous damage. Miao Mu flattened his palm and drove it into the mercenary's face like a sharp blade, even through the hood.

That strike punched a bloody hole into the mercenary's cheek, immediately followed by the Iron Monkey Fist's second variation.

His second knuckles bent slightly, like a chisel driven into wood, and smashed heavily into the mercenary's face.

That attack shattered the mercenary's gums and sent blood spilling from his mouth. But the Iron Monkey Fist had four forms!

For the final two moves, waist and stance merged as one. He clenched his fist and drove his arm forward, a heavy punch that could not be delivered without years of hard training.

In this life-and-death struggle, Miao Mu unleashed it with all his strength.

His fist struck the mercenary's face at point-blank range, followed immediately by a surge of force transmitted through his arm.

Miao Mu could clearly feel even his sleeve being shaken by the impact. When that punch landed, the only sound from the mercenary's face was the crisp crack of breaking bones.

The gun's mechanism clicked—the bullets were gone. On the pitch-black stairway, only the sounds of fists raining down, flesh splitting, and blood splattering remained.

Only when he felt the sticky wetness of blood did Miao Mu stop. He turned, climbed up from the floor, grabbed the M16 assault rifle, and charged upstairs.

In the building across from this one, separated by only a street, a mercenary appeared at an upper-floor window.

Miao Mu raised his assault rifle. It had a single-lens scope, and its small red dot settled on the window opposite him.

He pulled the trigger and fired a three-round burst. The window across the street immediately fell silent, and Miao Mu hurried off with his gun toward the other side.

"Miao Mu, can you hear me?"

Nygma's voice suddenly sounded in Miao Mu's earpiece. Communications had been restored.

But Miao Mu's eyes were wide, his nerves stretched taut as steel wire. He had no mind to speak.

The people in the building opposite realized someone had infiltrated. Two red infrared dots swept over from that side.

Watching where the red dots landed, Miao Mu suddenly rose and squeezed the rifle's trigger, unleashing a burst of fire.

Bullets slammed violently into the wall across from him. Glass shattered with a crash, while fragments of cement flew everywhere from the battered concrete wall.

"Miao Mu! You're dead!"

Jelafo glared furiously as he fitted a grenade launcher onto his AK rifle and raised it toward the window.

Just as he calculated the grenade's firing distance, a large gray rat leaped up, landed on his shoulder, opened its mouth, and bit his face.

"Aah!!!"

Jelafo screamed, flung the rat from his shoulder, covered the bite wound with one hand, and fired a barrage from his AK at where the rat had fled.

Squeak, squeak, squeak...

Rat squeals came from everywhere. Jelafo hurriedly turned around, trying to locate the sound. Beneath the outdoor stairs, a black mass of rats surged out like floodwaters bursting through a dam.

"Perfect!"

Miao Mu, having just changed magazines, watched the tide of rats racing down the street outside like a tide of black water toward the mercenaries.

The sniper on the roof was being bitten by rats and fired wildly at the ground with his pistol.

Miao Mu held his rifle and jumped straight out the window. The instant he landed, the rats seemed to sense something and quickly formed a wide circle around him.

Screams rang through the slums. Gang members who had taken money to stop the police were bitten by rats and fled in panic.

A mercenary who had just rushed out from around a corner was met by Miao Mu raising his gun and sending a stream of bullets his way.