Return to Gotham and the God-Slaying Armor

The first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows high in the main hall's dome, forming shafts of brilliant color that slanted down onto Bruce and Talia's naked, entwined bodies, casting a sacred halo over the scene of primal desire.

Bruce woke from his brief feigned sleep, his mind clearer than ever. He lowered his head and looked at the woman curled up in his arms like a kitten. Even in sleep, her face retained a trace of stubbornness and pride, while the corners of her eyes still bore the lingering afterglow of last night's passion. Yet his heart remained utterly unmoved.

To Bruce, last night's passion had been both a ritual of conquest and the beginning of sowing seeds.

He gently moved Talia off him. His movements were tender, but she still woke immediately. She opened her captivating eyes and looked at Bruce as he rose, her gaze carrying a hint of longing and reluctance.

Bruce ignored her gaze and walked straight to the side, where he picked up a clean set of black combat clothes and put them on. Then, he took a data chip he had prepared long ago from his suit's storage compartment and tossed it to Talia.

"What is this?" Talia asked doubtfully as she caught the chip.

"A list." Bruce's voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable command. "It contains every parasite within the League who needs to be purged, as well as every senior figure who needs to be closely monitored. Their files, weaknesses, and connections are all in there."

Talia connected the chip and, upon seeing its contents, her pupils abruptly contracted! The list was so comprehensive and the intelligence so precise that it surpassed even her understanding as the "Demon Princess"! Before this man had even come to Nanda Parbat, he had already investigated the entire League of Assassins from top to bottom!

"From today onward, you will have full authority over the League's internal affairs." Seeing her stunned expression, Bruce continued, "I need a tool that is absolutely silent and absolutely obedient, not a council full of noise and factions. You have the ability. Do it. Kill every dissenter and promote every loyalist."

Talia's heart pounded violently! She looked at Bruce, her eyes shining with unbelievable excitement and fervent worship.

This was more than power! It was this man's complete, unreserved trust in her! He had handed her the power of life and death over the entire League as casually as if it meant nothing!

"I... I will never disappoint you, my king!" Talia said with utmost devotion, dropping to one knee.

Bruce nodded and turned to walk out of the hall.

Before leaving Nanda Parbat, he personally selected twelve of the finest shadows from among the League's thousands of elite assassins.

Each wore a pure white mask that severed all emotion and identity. Their codename was—the Silenced. They were the League's ultimate killers, most skilled in infiltration, assassination, and prolonged covert operations; ghosts who walked in darkness.

Before boarding the stealth aircraft back to Gotham, Bruce stood on the ramp and gave the twelve kneeling shadows their true mission.

"Your targets are not the gangsters and lunatics on Gotham's streets." Bruce's voice was cold enough to cut bone, like the winds atop the Himalayas. "Gotham runs deeper than anyone imagines. The foundations of this city and the history of the Wayne family are inextricably entangled with a ghostlike organization. They call themselves... the Court of Owls."

At the mention of the Court of Owls, the bodies of all twelve Silenced trembled almost imperceptibly. It was the one mysterious organization from League of Assassins legends that even the Demon's Head found troublesome.

"From today onward, you will vanish completely. You will have no names, no pasts, and no futures." Bruce's voice was like a final judgment. "Your task is to become true ghosts of Gotham. Infiltrate this city's highest and lowest levels, and use your eyes to draw for me that network of power hidden in darkness, woven from owl talons. Hunt the owls hiding in the shadows. Before I give the order for final judgment, I need to know the location of every nest and the identity of every member!"

"Yes, sir!" the twelve shadows answered in unison, their voices hoarse.

The Court of Owls... this cancer that had rooted itself in Gotham's marrow for centuries was the true reason this city could never be saved. Gangsters, criminals, and lunatics were merely pieces on the chessboard of their power games. To take complete control of Gotham, I first had to drag these judges who fancied themselves gods from their thrones one by one and crush their throats!

At the very moment Bruce gave that order and resolved to declare war on Gotham's true darkness, the long-absent system notification finally thundered through his mind with unprecedented solemnity!

[Ding! Main quest "Demon's Legacy" completed!]

[Quest evaluation: Perfect! You not only obtained the right of succession, but also exceeded the quest's highest expectations by seizing the position from your master with thunderous force, completely taking control of the League of Assassins' highest authority!]

[Distributing final quest rewards based on the "Perfect" evaluation...]

[Warning! The default reward template, "The Batman Who Laughs," has been detected to have an extreme rejection reaction with the host's current personality! The Joker virus contained in this template poses an extremely high risk of contaminating the host's soul and causing irreversible insanity!]

[System highest-authority correction protocol activated... Recalibrating reward based on the host's core will: "absolute control," "trump-card mentality," "family bonds," and more...]

[Calibration complete! Congratulations, host! You have obtained the final-battle strategic-grade armament—[Fenrir Armor]!]

This chain of sudden changes from the system made Bruce pause slightly. Then an uncontrollable surge of ecstasy rose within him!

Batman Who Laughs? That template was indeed powerful, but the risks were far too great. It was practically suicide. The system actually corrected it on its own? And... the reward was Fenrir! That armor!

Even Bruce's breathing grew hurried.

In the comics from my previous life, Bruce had poured all of Wayne Enterprises' wealth and technology into creating the ultimate weapon to deal with an out-of-control Justice League! Its final record in the story might have been poor, but that was because it faced the entire Justice League's assault! But in this world, with me wielding it... it will become the most powerful trump card in my hands, powerful enough to slay gods!

A brilliant blue virtual screen instantly unfolded before Bruce.

[Equipment Name: Fenrir Armor]

[Equipment Rank: Strategic Grade / Godslayer Armament]

[Equipment Description: A jet-black heavy powered armor standing three meters tall, filled with a savage aesthetic of strength. Its core design philosophy is to provide the host with the combat capability to independently oppose and suppress the entire Justice League. The armor contains a miniature solar fusion reactor, capable of providing absolute strength and superhuman defense comparable to a Kryptonian; its arms are fitted with "Relative Speed Field" generators designed for the Flash; its shoulders are equipped with "Hephaestus's Bindings" countermeasure launchers designed for Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth; its back integrates an "EMP Cannon" designed for Cyborg; and... at the core of its chest armor is a "Red Sun" system specially designed to store high-purity Kryptonite dust and disperse it as an aerosol spray.]

[Equipment Status: Unlocked and permanently stored in the system space. The host may summon and equip it at any time through thought.]

Looking at the detailed description, Bruce felt his heartbeat quicken. This reward gave him far more reassurance and security than some intangible enhancement of mental ability. It was a visible, tangible absolute power, enough to flip the board at any moment!

Filled with immense satisfaction, Bruce boarded the stealth aircraft. He took an encrypted satellite phone from his pocket. On its screen was the latest intelligence regarding Jason Todd.

Looking at the familiar figure on the screen—wearing that iconic red helmet and using the fighting techniques Bruce had personally taught him to bloodily execute gangsters in Gotham City's night—Bruce's expression became incomparably complicated.

Jason... I have wronged you in the end. It was my incompetence back then that failed to protect you, leaving you to walk through hell alone before being reborn in the madness of the Lazarus Pit.

He no longer regarded Jason as a troublesome problem that needed to be "disciplined," an error that needed to be "corrected."

I completely understand your anger. I share your hatred for the Joker, perhaps... even more deeply than you do. We both want him dead, want him to pay the most painful and longest price for every sin he has committed... On that ultimate goal, we are completely aligned.

Bruce's fingers gently brushed over Jason's cold red helmet on the screen, and a trace of warmth appeared in his eyes that even he had not noticed.

It's just that your methods are too brutal. They are dragging Gotham into another uncontrollable chaos. Before you make things impossible to clean up, before endless hatred completely consumes you... I have to find you.

We need to have a real conversation. Not as Batman and Robin... but as Bruce and Jason, as... family.