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

In the public eye, Bruce Wayne is still missing, which means that Batman has only recently returned to Gotham. He probably hasn't even figured out how to manage his own company yet, and he's still largely clueless about the situation in Gotham.

"By the way, don't throw things at me again, vigilante of Gotham."

He pulled a tiny locator from his trench coat pocket and flicked it backward with his finger.

A strong gust of wind swept in, and Bruce Wayne quickly dodged to the side. The coin-shaped locator, a few millimeters in size, like a sharp razor, sliced ​​through his face and embedded itself deeply in the brick wall behind him.

When he turned his gaze back, the alley was empty, with no one in sight, only a cold wind blowing by.

He wasn't surprised at all, he just frowned.

……

"Young Master Bruce?"

In the underground alley, a jet-black motorcycle sped by, its tires so thick they could be bulletproof, its imposing design inspiring awe. It slowly came to a stop in front of a bunker.

The man on the motorcycle tore off his tattered face, revealing a young and cold face with a determined look in his eyes. He was as unshakable as a steel billet forged through countless trials, yet he seemed eager to accomplish something.

“It’s me, Afu.”

"I saw the news. You've had another day on the run, young master."

Amidst the roar of the motorcycle's engine as it came to a halt, the old man's frail voice, tinged with helplessness and worry, echoed from the doorway.

"It's still early for the day to end, Afu."

At the bunker entrance, waiting for the door to open, Bruce Wayne stepped out of the car, and like a gentleman, removed the red rose from the lapel of his suit. His eyes were thoughtful as he glanced at the tiny black dot hidden in the rose's stamen.

"Please forgive me, young master."

To be honest, operating a supercomputer wasn't part of my butler training at the time.

The bunker door slowly opened after half a minute.

"It's alright, Afu."

I still have a lot of time today.

He walked slowly into the base, which he called the Bat Cave, and connected a miniature camera to a huge computer screen.

The entire bank robbery was played, and then the image froze, showing a young face.

The screen light shone on Wayne's son's face, flickering. Staring at that face, he murmured to himself and pressed the search button.

"Now—let me see who you are."

Chapter 53. Stealing is not a good habit.

A bird of prey has wandered into the eerie forest known as Gotham.

Bruce Wayne wants to know the other person's identity.

But the button was pressed.

The screen displayed the words "No Data" in bright red.

Bruce frowned in front of the hundreds-inch computer screen.

"No criminal record, no driver's license, no spending history, no immigration record..."

Either this person has lived in a primeval forest since birth, or that person, like him, has a fake face.

……

Walking under an umbrella on the bustling streets of Gotham, David touched his face.

His exceptional eyesight allowed him to spot the pinhole camera on Batman's chest, but he ignored it.

The face is the real deal.

However, it has been slightly adjusted compared to the original.

"There are about forty muscles in the human face, which are divided into facial muscles and masseter muscles."

Facial muscles, along with blood vessels and nerves, are intertwined with cartilage and bone, and smooth skin adheres to the muscles. These tissues are interconnected and interact with each other, enabling a variety of movements and expressions.

"Of these, very few can be controlled by humans. Talented performers can control more facial muscles, making their faces slightly stiff and presenting a different appearance, imitating others, but they still cannot achieve complete control."

It's impossible for an ordinary person to do this; he just happens to be no ordinary person, and he's not even really an earthling.

Thanos's Eternal mutant physique grants him the ability to precisely and freely control all the muscles in his body, allowing him to practice combat, control his strength, and even change his facial appearance.

Thanos should never have used this ability.

One possibility is that the Dark Lord might not bother hiding himself, as there are better ways to do so, such as magic and technology.

Even his two- or three-meter-tall stature and distinctive purple-sweethead head couldn't hide him.

As I passed by on the street, I caught a glimpse of a high-voltage power line.

David remembered Avery, who had come to Gotham.

As a future Superman, he didn't believe Clark would easily lose his powers.

Moreover, Superman's abilities come from his genes, from his name Clark Kent, so they probably won't be so easy to take away.

"If we capture Avery and repeat the accident, it might allow the power to return to Clark, which is to enhance the electric current with kryptonite."

If that doesn't work, you can try to attract lightning on a rainy day.

But all of this depends on first finding Avery in Gotham and bringing him back.

A thoughtful look crossed his eyes.

"Should we find two local bullies first and ask them about the latest news in Gotham?"

Bang!

Not far ahead, a hurried figure bumped into a woman who was walking with an air of arrogance, carrying a designer handbag.

"Feel sorry."

The girl with beautiful brown hair walked in a hurry, as if she had something urgent to attend to. She bowed her head, said an apology, and hurriedly turned and disappeared around the street corner.

The woman cursed a couple of times, then ignored it and continued walking.

David raised an eyebrow, but noticed that the sapphire ring on the man's hand was missing.

It's not unusual to encounter a robbery first, and then, before you've even walked a block, a theft, especially in the friendly and honest Gotham.

But to steal a ring from someone's hand without them noticing in the instant of a head-on collision—that's quite an unusual thieving technique.

His expression showed a hint of surprise.

It's hard for a thief to avoid dealing with all sorts of people, especially since they need special channels to sell stolen goods; they can be considered local thieves.

"A good candidate for gathering information."

……

“Young Master, I don’t know if you remember that the cave above is Wayne Manor.”

An elderly man with gray hair, dressed meticulously in his butler's uniform, his eyes reflecting the vicissitudes and wisdom accumulated over the years, slowly walked over carrying a cup of iced coffee on a gleaming silver tray.

"Of course, Afu."

Bruce Wayne took the coffee, took a sip, and continued working on the computer.

"How could I forget something so simple?"

“But since you came back, you’ve been hiding in this bat cave. You’ve hardly ever been up to the manor that’s so close by.”

A hint of helplessness flashed across Alfred's eyes.

“I have many things to do, Afu.”

Many urgent matters need to be addressed.

The computer hacker downloaded Gotham National Bank's withdrawal records, hoping to find some clues. The results showed that the card from which the money was withdrawn belonged to a henchman of a small-time gang leader in Gotham, who had been dead for over a year.

Bruce Wayne frowned.

A glance at the death record revealed a broken neck and the body found in the gang's temporary hideout, along with a dozen or so gang members.

Some died from severe brain damage.

"Hyena Gang?"

Several members survived, but became vegetative.

During the same period, dozens of gangsters in Gotham died from severe brain injuries, and seven or eight suffered brain damage and became vegetative.

Apart from that, nothing else can be found; the clues we have seem to have run dry.

"Young Master, I understand how you feel."

But you're too hasty; I'm a little worried.

Seeing that the young master's expression was not very good, Afu bowed slightly and offered his suggestion.

"In 1840, your ancestor Solomon Wayne invested in establishing the industrial and commercial districts that Gotham is today, which led to Gotham's prosperity."

But you should know that this wasn't done in a day.