The painful experience had stirred Blake's ambitions. From then on, he had kept honing his skills, even pouring all his savings into his career cosplaying as a cat-themed hero.
Hard work paid off. Today, Blake stood on the same level as his guide, Owlman.
Of course, "the same level" referred to their assets: like Owlman, he was flat broke.
Being a superhero burned through money like water. As the facts proved, without the kind of wealth Gotham's Four Families possessed, even someone with a little spare cash should not casually try their hand at it.
And so a professional hero who had started out for fun became an oligarch's lackey for five million dollars.
Back in the present, the two men pinpointed each other's approximate positions by sound in the darkness, then launched a volley of projectiles at one another.
Metal clanged in the dark. A few of the throwing blades collided in midair, while most silently hurtled toward their opponent's vital points.
Both were expert throwers. In terms of skill alone, Catman, who had entered the profession earlier, might have had an edge, but his half-baked equipment was nowhere near the top-of-the-line gear supplied by Oliver, Star City's richest man.
The protection their suits offered made that clear.
Relying on his high-performance nano Batsuit, Qin Wei blocked most of the attacks with a raised arm, while Catman howled as Batarangs stuck into him.
"Hiss! Damn it, I never should've traded throwing blades with him!"
Abandoning ranged combat, Catman lowered his center of gravity and charged Qin Wei, pulling a flashbang from a pouch at the small of his back.
"Hehe, have a taste of this beauty!"
Blake grinned wickedly and was about to throw the grenade when his foot came down on something.
A crisp click followed.
"Uh-oh-why do