Seeing a pile of snow-white flesh rolling in oil in the middle of the night always gave people a strange feeling, but not in Batwoman's mind.
After making the monster slip, he immediately pulled a small metal tube from his belt, pressed the Bat-button on it, shook it back and forth to mix the two differently colored liquids inside, then approached the struggling monster and poured the mixture over it.
No one knew what the liquid actually was, but it quickly reacted chemically with the air. Just a small amount was enough to engulf the entire monster in flames.
The familiar scent of roast chicken wafted over, though theoretically, the proportion of human genes in the monster's body should have been greater.
But without self-awareness, it did not count as a person.
Trench Coat Fighter put away his Switchblade. He straightened up and brushed at his lapels as the firelight illuminated his clothes, revealing some inconspicuous stains on the trench coat.
"What now?" he asked Batwoman.
"I have other matters to attend to. Go home."
That was Batwoman's answer. Tonight was destined to be a long one, and at Trench Coat Fighter's level, facing certain villains would be highly dangerous.
Unfortunately, the rest of the Bat-Family had run off somewhere and could not be contacted at all.
"Go home? You have to be joking." Trench Coat Fighter spread his hands, letting Batwoman see his attire clearly. "I didn't dress like this for fun. I came to protect Gotham."
"This situation is beyond your capabilities." Batwoman's reply was blunt. He took out a rope and tied up Egghead. Alfred would use the Batplane to send him to Arkham.
The fighter sniffed, and even the @_@ painted on his mask seemed to wrinkle. "Then let me follow you. An extra pair of