Gotham Bank.
On the rooftop, several figures zipped over on grappling lines.
The moment they landed, they split up and moved with clear objectives, cutting the power and disabling the security systems.
All of them wore dingy gray Joker masks, made of leather and pulled directly over their heads.
One figure had just shut off the power, carried out some simple sabotage, and severed the main areas.
He was quite skilled at it, and he happily hummed, "How are you planning to spend today's haul?"
He was asking the accomplice behind him, who was fitting a suppressor onto a pistol.
"I'll spend it for you!"
After attaching the suppressor, the accomplice in the Joker mask sneered. "Only the living get a share. I'll take yours for you!"
With that, a soft puff rang out, and the robber who had just sabotaged the power supply was taken out by his own accomplice.
After firing, the accomplice headed downstairs along the stairwell.
As soon as he reached the corridor at the turn, he used a photograph prepared in advance to block the security camera.
Then he ran toward the robbery site.
The moment he left the corridor, he was killed on the spot by another accomplice lying in wait. A three-round burst from a submachine gun.
That was enough to take his life. Only the mounds on his chest still retained a trace of warmth, but even that could not bring him back.
"One fewer person to split the money with. I'll take yours."
The hunting and killing was like a tightly drawn rope, pulling everyone's fates together.
Kill one person, and there would be one fewer person to share the money with. It became a curse echoing through the bank lobby.
Large and small bags of cash were tossed onto the