I, the younger brother of Superman, ended up with a Thanos template.

Several red-headed hooded henchmen were waiting for the figure, who should have been riddled with bullets, to fall straight backward.

But in the smoke.

A dangerous purple light appeared.

"what?"

A henchman frowned, holding the muzzle of his gun, squinting as he tried to discern what was shining.

Chi!

A laser beam shot out from the smoke, causing a sharp pain in his chest. He stared blankly and looked down in disbelief.

A bloody hole, about the thickness of a thumb, pierced through his heart.

Bang!

The body fell, and bright red blood quickly spread across the hall floor.

"kill him!"

Aiming at the figure in the smoke, the men in red hoods opened fire in a panic.

The counter served as cover, and Bruce Wayne hid behind it, peeking out slightly to reveal his eyes, which were filled with astonishment.

Whoosh, whoosh!

Not far in front of him, the handsome young man in the trench coat stood still, raising one arm and making a gun gesture.

Like in a black and white silent film, imagine your finger is a pistol, a handsome cowboy fighting off bandits. Before losing his parents, Bruce Wayne's childhood was no exception, playing in the grass on his family's estate.

But at this moment, the figure actually shot something out from its fingertip, but it wasn't a bullet—it was a series of purple laser beams!

Time seemed to slow down at that moment. In the bank lobby, viewed from the side, the tall figure had a casual expression, as if he were playing a game, slowly and deliberately firing his finger through the air.

But it was as if Death was calling out names.

As the laser beams scorched the air, bloody holes appeared in the hearts of the fleeing bandits, their hair standing on end, and their bodies collapsed to the ground.

[Shock from Bruce Wayne +43...]

"How...did this guy do that?"

I almost added an extra chapter yesterday because I went to bed a little late and didn't wake up until noon. My head still hurts a bit. I'll adjust the time a bit. There will still be updates, just a little later. The midnight update will be posted tomorrow during the day. I'll write more then to make up for it.

Sorry, please continue reading. (ω)

Chapter 52. Gotham Can Be Easily Destroyed

The bodies fell to the ground with a thud, and the gunshots soon ceased in the bank lobby.

Only the people lying on the ground screamed in fear.

Police cars arrived outside the bank with sirens blaring and surrounded it. One police car after another was positioned to act as cover. Gotham police officers huddled behind the cars, trembling and shouting in panic through loudspeakers.

"Don't move! Drop your weapons and surrender immediately!"

A series of ear-piercing noises.

David picked at his ear and looked outside.

Not a single police officer showed any sign of being anxious to rescue the hostages. They hid behind the car like new recruits facing a trench where they could be mowed down by machine gun fire at any moment. Some didn't even dare to show their heads. A few were slightly better, their faces pale, pointing into the bank, their hands holding the guns trembling as if they had Parkinson's disease.

"Don't be afraid."

"Gotham's elite police force has arrived; you're saved."

David picked up the money he had just taken from the counter, smiled at the terrified people on the ground, stirred up a gust of wind to disperse the smoke, and disappeared from the spot.

Bruce Wayne's eyes widened as the figure vanished.

He had studied ninjutsu under a ninja master. Ninjas can achieve invisibility by combining light and smoke, but he hadn't seen any flaws in that move just now.

Upon seeing the robber's body lying on the ground, the officers seemed about to attempt a breakthrough. He quickly turned and ran upstairs to the bank, smashed through the glass, and escaped after landing in an alley.

The surveillance cameras had stopped working long before the robbers entered.

After a brief hiccup while withdrawing the money, David dealt with the robbers with his fingers and left the bank. He went to an empty alley a few hundred meters away, waited for his skin to return to normal, and was about to leave to find a hotel to stay in.

What is your purpose in coming to Gotham?

A deep, resonant voice suddenly sounded from behind.

David turned his head and saw 'Red Hood Five' standing in the shadows, his expression as cold and solemn as the snow that never melts on a high mountain. He had thrown away the gun he was holding, like a Greek warrior facing a terrifying monster with his bare hands. His muscles, full of explosive power, were taut beneath his suit, ready for battle.

"You actually dared to chase after me? Aren't you afraid of ending up meeting your accomplices?"

"You should know that I am not a bandit."

Bruce Wayne frowned, his mind filled with doubt.

The young man before him was shrouded in mystery from head to toe. It was unclear whether he was hiding some high-tech weapon that could fire lasers, or whether he was even more skilled than him in the art of ninja stealth.

Most importantly, a single sentence reveals his identity hidden beneath the mask and the human skin mask.

“You’re not a police officer, you have no right to question me.”

David laughed.

The Bruce Wayne standing before us already shows a hint of what he will become in the future.

Compared to the future Superman Clark who hasn't left school yet, he's closer to the fully-fledged Batman who is crucial to the fate of the world. So, although his strength is far inferior to Clark before he lost his powers, the emotional impact he provides is still considerable.

"I'm not a police officer?"

Who, besides police officers, would risk their lives to infiltrate a group of criminals and try to stop a robbery?

Bruce asked slowly in return.

He admitted that he was somewhat reckless this time, and made many mistakes in playing Red Hood No. 5. The main problem was that he didn't have time to spend more time playing a group of bank robbers.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out where his true identity had been revealed.

"you're right.

But they forgot one thing—this is Gotham.

David spread his hands.

This is how a young man from a small town in the metropolis introduces himself to a native Gotham resident.

"..."

"In this decaying city, being a police officer is just a side job; being a gangster's henchman and an informant is the real job of Gotham police officers."

Like those people in front of the bank, they would never risk their lives for a few hundred dollars a day in police officer pay.

Bruce Wayne fell silent for a moment.

"Gotham will not stay like this forever."

His voice was deep, as if he were reciting an ideal he had decided to dedicate his life to achieving.

"I wish you success."

David smiled, said something, and turned to leave.

"You don't seem to agree with this."

Bruce Wayne stepped forward, like a cheetah biting its prey.

Many people have different answers as to whether there is still hope for Gotham, but that does not shake his belief in the slightest. However, he wants to know what the young man in front of him thinks.

For some reason, this person seemed to know him very well, including recognizing his identity and confirming his innermost thoughts when he said, "Gotham won't stay like this forever."

"Gotham, with its long history, has given countless people the life and hope they desire."

But without a doubt, he is now seriously ill.

David paused slightly and said calmly.

There are various explanations in the comics for why Gotham is so dark and chaotic, such as being located on the gates of Hell, being cursed, or being controlled by the Court of Owls, and even the city's spirits being twisted and inhuman.

However, there is a saying that can roughly describe Gotham: Gotham can be easily destroyed, but it is difficult to change.

"If no one steps forward to pick up the cold, precise scalpel and cut away the rotten flesh, Gotham will continue to suffer and decay until it dies."

"Just like you did? Killed them ruthlessly?"

Bruce Wayne keenly sensed the unspoken meaning in his words and spoke with hostility.

Once upon a time, many years ago, when Joe Cher had escaped from prison on parole as a witness to capture a mob boss, he thought of shooting the man who had killed his parents as he walked out of the courtroom.

But someone pointed out to him that his parents absolutely did not want him to fall into darkness and become like those criminals.

“You seem to have only been in Gotham for a short time, but you’ve already taken seven or eight lives in this city.”

"Am I not allowed to defend myself when facing a group of armed thugs?"

"It's just that I wasn't using a gun."

David decided not to argue with him any longer and walked away.

Although he came to Gotham looking for someone, Bruce Wayne is no match for him now.