"Shlck!"
The Amber Gold Dagger sliced through a gap in the Bat-Armor again. Bruce grunted, his left knee slamming into the muddy water.
Cold rain poured through the damaged armor, running down with his warm blood.
Countdown: 00:58.
Bruce gasped for breath, his blue eyes fixed on the two monsters before him.
He had broken their ribs, crushed their windpipes, and even blown half of one man's shoulder apart with a miniature bomb. None of it worked. The electrum alloy inside their bodies stimulated frantic cell regeneration. In barely a dozen seconds, those fatal wounds had healed completely.
No pain. No fatigue. The Murder Machine.
The two Talons advanced through the muddy water again, one on either side. They made no attempt to defend themselves, trading wounds without hesitation. Their goal was clear-keep Batman pinned here until the bombs detonated.
Bruce gritted his teeth and reached for the last Liquid Nitrogen Freeze Grenade in his belt.
"Humm-"
Just then, the air suddenly warped at the center of the thirty-meter-deep foundation pit.
A pink wooden door with the look of cheap plastic swung open out of nowhere in the pouring rain.
Warm orange light spilled through the doorway from the presidential suite. Then a foot in a bespoke leather shoe stepped out and sank into a puddle full of mud.
"It's the middle of the night, and it's pouring. Aren't you sewer rats worried about getting rheumatism?"
Yang Ming wore his rumpled Armani suit and pushed his Gold-Rimmed Glasses up his nose. The lenses fogged over instantly, but the fury of being dragged out of bed and the violence in his eyes could have frozen someone stiff from ten meters away.
Both Talons stopped at once.
They felt no emotions, but through the multi-lens night-vision goggles beneath their masks,