Martin Variety in American Comics.

Chapter 14 Stop following me!
The owner of this voice is Siva.

The moment Martin heard the sound coming from above his head, he was so scared that he jumped sideways several meters. Looking at the dangerous woman standing on the fire escape, his muscles tensed.

"When did you start following me?"

Martin was very alert. He killed more than a dozen armed security guards within three minutes, but he couldn't gain any advantage after fighting with Siva for more than ten minutes. This shows how dangerous this woman is.

Siwa looked down at the vigilant Martin and said with a smile: "I thought we were friends, but you treat me like this. It really makes me sad?"

Martin did not relent: "If you are willing to give up your intention to compete with me, of course I would be happy to meet you as a friend."

Shiva shook his head: "Your request is like asking a bird to give up its wings and the only meaning of its life. I can't do it."

"Besides, didn't you say that you wanted to break through the limits of martial arts? Why do you deny it in the blink of an eye?"

Martin held his forehead helplessly: "That's just a trick. If I didn't act like this, how could the Penguin take the initiative to jump out and find me?"

He really didn't want to get entangled with Xiwa, so he said, "You said you owed me one this morning, and I don't want you to work for me. Just don't bother me today."

Shiva frowned: "Is it that simple?"

"It's that simple!"

Seeing Martin's resolute look, Siwa pursed his lips, and relaxed after a moment: "I promise you, and I can tell you that there are more than just me following you. Besides the bunch of rubbish under Penguin, are there others?"

other people?
Martin immediately thought of the black warriors and the burly man in black armor.

He looked at Siwa and asked, "Are those people following you this morning? What is their relationship with the Penguin Man?"

Siwa held up two fingers. "The answer to the first question is as you guessed. As for the second answer, I cannot answer you."

"Although I am not on the same side as those people, I owe them a favor, so I cannot reveal more information."

Martin nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

Sometimes not answering is also an answer.

As for where those black-clad warriors following Shiva came from, he had a vague guess in his mind.

Although it sounds surprising that those people would cooperate with Penguin, this is the only logical guess at the moment.

The next step is to confirm your guess.

Martin had a feeling that he was getting closer and closer to the truth.

But he did not feel relaxed. He only felt that he was surrounded by fog and his heart was filled with despair, not knowing where to go.

In such despair, Martin cannot stop for a moment. Only by doing something can he see a glimmer of hope.

"Thank you for your reminder, see you tomorrow!"

Martin waved to Siwa, but he didn't think they would meet again tomorrow.

By tomorrow, even if Shiva still remembered him, he would no longer be a martial artist, and the other party would naturally not bother him anymore.

Siwa watched Martin leave the alley, climb up the fire escape to the roof, and after a few jumps, disappear into the streets of Gotham.

Martin deliberately walked towards a place with few people, trying to find a place that would not attract attention and properly entertain the follower that Shiva mentioned.

But to his surprise, after walking around for a long time and several blocks, he couldn't find an empty street.

Even in abandoned buildings, there are still quite a few scavenging homeless people living in them.

Are there so many people in Gotham?

Martin didn't have time to think about this matter. He felt that the pursuers behind him were getting impatient and revealed some clues, which he captured. He was sure that those people were the black warriors in the morning.

"That's it!"

Martin subconsciously looked up at the sun, but only saw thick clouds.

"Damn weather."

He cursed under his breath, looked down at his watch, confirmed that it was noon, and randomly chose an unfinished building and walked in.

"Should we follow him in?" The black warriors stopped and looked at each other in surprise as they watched Martin disappear into the unfinished building.

"Our mission is to track him and pass on the intelligence in a timely manner."

"But he is a figure comparable to Lady Shiva. We may have been discovered long ago. Maybe he is hiding in a corner, waiting for us to fall into his trap."

"But this is a mission, and you know the consequences if you can't complete it."

When the ten black-clad warriors heard the word "mission", they instantly became determined. They drew out their long swords that shone with cold light, and walked into the unfinished building in groups of three or four, watching over each other.

They quickly searched the entire first floor and found nothing except a pile of construction debris.

The black-clad warriors did not let down their guard. They held their swords tightly, exchanged glances with each other, and walked up the unguarded stairs to the second floor.

The room was very quiet, and the occasional sound of the warriors' boots stepping on stones was extremely harsh and irritating to their hearts.

In extreme fear and trepidation, the warriors searched the second floor and still did not encounter any danger, but found a trail of footprints leading directly to the third floor.

The moment they saw the footprints, all the black warriors breathed a sigh of relief. They finally caught a trace of Martin and rushed directly to the third floor.

When the last warrior walked up the stairs, Martin, who was holding the bottom of the stairs leading to the third floor, grabbed the edge of the stairs, flipped over and landed on the stairs, grabbed the ankle of the warrior in front of him and pulled him back.

Pfft!
The warrior fell heavily to the ground, his head hitting the steps, his nose broken, his teeth falling out, and blood staining his face scarf red.

Martin kicked out his legs and pressed his whole body on the fallen warrior, breaking his spine.

Such a big noise finally attracted the attention of the warriors in front. They turned around suddenly and found that they had been tricked.

Martin picked up the long sword that had fallen to the ground, stabbed it upwards, and stabbed the tip of the sword into the belly of the warrior in front of him. He twisted it hard and crushed his internal organs.

Blood gushed out from his abdomen and slid down the blade. Martin frowned, but his hands did not stop moving.

He drew out his long sword, raised it above his head, and blocked the sword that was coming down at him.

This unfinished staircase could only accommodate one person. Martin blocked the way down the stairs, so the warriors had to squeeze in behind or find another way out.

He grasped the hilt of the knife with both hands, turned his wrist, pressed down the knife that was chopping towards him, then leaned forward, and with a flash of the long knife, he tore open the warrior's throat.

Under the action of air pressure, blood spurted out from the wound, staining Martin's clothes red.

But he did not stop. The long sword that he raised to the highest point fell naturally, and he swung the sword sideways and killed the warrior who jumped behind him and tried to attack him by surprise.

Martin went up the stairs. With every step he took, the long sword in his hand would take the life of a warrior, and the blood-red color of his clothes would become darker.

As the warriors watched their companions fall one by one, they became calmer and more like robots. They stopped blocking the stairs and retreated into the building, trying to take advantage of their numbers.

Although at this time, there were only three of them left.

"grass!"

Martin wiped the blood off his face, cursed fiercely, picked up the crossbow from the corpse, pulled the trigger and shot through the heart of the man on the left, then threw a long knife at the man on the right.

Ding!
The thrown long sword was knocked away.

Martin rushed to the third floor, stepped sideways and kicked, closing the distance, kicking the man in the middle in the chest, sending him flying off the balcony.

Then, he exerted force with his legs, lifted his body slightly into the air, spun around, and kicked out a spinning kick with the steel whip's leg.

boom!
The last warrior was kicked in the head, and in a daze, his head hit the wall and broke his neck.

Martin stood firmly on the ground, looking at the corpses all over the ground and the dust soaked with blood, and his stomach felt nauseous.

He suppressed this physiological reaction, squatted on the ground, pulled open the warrior's clothes, exposed his chest to the air, and revealed a large tattoo of a demon's head.

"Assassins' League, wow, wow, wow, wow!"

Martin cursed several times in a row, and he didn't even know who he was cursing at.

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(End of this chapter)