He Couldn't Even Take a Punch with One-Tenth of My Strength-He Should Be Proud

The traces of time...

Isn't that just being an old antique?!

Seeing Russell stubbornly refuse to admit defeat, Bane remained half-convinced and half-dubious. He recalled the footage of Russell fighting Batman, searching for hidden clues within it.

But he quickly shook his head, dismissing the distracting thoughts and deciding that Russell was merely putting on an act.

The reason was simple. The data Batman had personally collected, the finished Anti-Deathstroke Armor he had built with his own hands, and tens of thousands of simulated battles—there was no way anything could go wrong.

Bane chose to trust Batman. Pressing his earpiece, he gave the driver inside the Anti-Deathstroke Armor an order. "Kill him, but don't kill him too quickly. I want to snuff out Gotham City's last spark of hope."

Watching the Anti-Deathstroke Armor deploy, Bane felt eager to try it himself. He truly wanted to put on the armor and personally extinguish that spark, but his height and build made that impossible, so he could only have someone do it for him.

The Anti-Deathstroke Armor had been custom-made by Bruce for himself. He was 1.88 meters tall, powerfully built without being bulky.

Bane, meanwhile, stood over two meters tall and weighed an astonishing three hundred jin. His entire body was packed with knotted muscles. He was an absolute heavyweight, built like a bear.

Their builds differed too greatly. If Bane could fit into it, that would be a miracle.

Boom!

In the arena, the driver of the Anti-Deathstroke Armor followed Bane's command. He shut down the back-mounted thrusters and crashed down before Russell, meeting his gaze.

"You're Deathstroke?"

The driver was clearly a chatterbox. He immediately started rambling. "You may not know how powerful this armor is. Let me tell you the truth: every single one of your actions is