I am the younger brother of Superman, but I got the template of Thanos

[Nervousness from Bruce Wayne +33, + Shock 41...]

After David finished speaking, there was a silence in the lobby.

"Bruce Wayne?"

The people in the bank lobby lying on the ground with their heads in their hands looked at each other in confusion and weirdness.

The people of Gotham may not know who the mayor is or what his name is, but it is impossible not to know Bruce Wayne. From the time the citizens of Gotham are born until they are buried with their eyes closed, the Wayne Group is indispensable in all aspects of their clothing, food, housing and transportation.

And Bruce Wayne is the heir to the extremely wealthy Wayne Corporation.

But Bruce Wayne has been missing for several years, how could he be here and robbing a bank?

"There is a group of gangsters in Gotham called the Red Hood Gang. The leader's name is Red Hood. They are not very powerful and they are not well-known."

David was also a little surprised.

Compared with well-known villains such as Bane, Joker, and Scarecrow, the Red Hood is just an unknown small character.

But the origin of the Joker in many worlds is the former Red Hood. To avoid being pursued by Batman, he fell into a pool of chemical agents and turned into a Joker with pale skin and green hair.

"Originally I wanted to use the emotional point reminder to see if the red hood is the clown."

'Red Hood No. 5' looked at him in shock, with a playful smile on his lips and looked up and down.

"No, I didn't see the Joker but saw Batman."

When Red Hood No. 5 was ordered to teach his disobedient hostage a lesson and walked up to him, an emotional reminder from Bruce Wayne was refreshed.

"Shut your mouth. If I were that little brat whose body is rotten somewhere, why would I still be standing here?"

'Red Hood No. 5' roared angrily, swung the butt of his gun and was about to hit David on the forehead.

"Wait a moment!"

The red hooded leader suddenly raised his gun and aimed it at No. 5.

"Boss? I don't understand. You said you should teach him a lesson, and I am doing it."

Being held at gunpoint, 'Red Hood No. 5' hurriedly raised his hands, his tone confused.

"Did...did you believe this kid's lies?"

The remaining red hooded men followed suit and pointed at No. 5. The black holes of their guns were aimed at No. 5 and David behind him.

"I don't know if you're Bruce Wayne.

But you're definitely not number five. "

Red Hood shook his head sadly.

“Number Five is the craziest among us and will never do anything when he can.

You talk too much! "

"Red Hood No. 5"'s expression changed under his mask.

He originally wanted to kick this young boy down who didn't seem to know what fear was, and then knock him unconscious with the butt of his rifle.

But he didn't fire immediately to attract the other party's attention.

"And...Number 5 is left-handed." The red hood leader's lips curved into a contemptuous sneer.

'Red Hood No. 5' looked at his right hand holding the gun, and there was an ugly look in his eyes. He actually made more than one mistake.

David confirmed that the little red hooded guy in front of him was Batman Bruce Wayne, but he should be Batman who had just returned to Gotham to join the fight against crime.

"The current Bruce Wayne seems to have just debuted, and he is not yet the mature and cold Batman who will never make mistakes."

By the way, where are the security personnel of this bank?

Ignoring the seven or eight submachine guns pointing here, David looked around.

At the door of the security room, a figure fell to the ground, with purple lips and foaming at the mouth. There was another person lying on him with the same appearance.

It turned out that it had been poisoned in advance.

"Now, take off your hood..."

They were clearly robbing a bank and the police might arrive at any time, but the leader of the red hood was not at all anxious and pointed his gun with interest.

"Let's see who you are, are you an orphan from the famous Wayne family, or a police officer who thinks he can take us down alone?"

"If it's really Bruce Wayne, you won't have to worry about it in the next life."

A few men with guns burst into laughter.

"We're not that idiot Joe Chell who killed the richest couple in Gotham for a string of pearls."

The harsh sound echoed in the hall, and David saw the raised hand of 'Red Hood No. 5', with veins popping up on the back of his hand.

Joe Chell, a cowardly street gangster who was looked down upon by gangsters, became famous after he killed the Waynes and caused the tragedy that everyone in Gotham knew.

Under the threat of gunpoint, "Red Hood No. 5" had to stiffly take off the hood on his face, revealing a middle-aged face with a thick black beard, as if he had been misunderstood and annoyed.

"Number five?"

At the moment when several Red Hood minions were stunned, 'Red Hood No. 5' raised his wrist, and the miniature remote control came out from his cuff, and he pressed it down with lightning speed.

Bang!

The bank's thick, solid glass door was blown to pieces.

The shock wave of the explosion swept through the hall, shattered glass flew, and a group of red hoods were knocked to the ground by the air wave.

Almost at the same time, a smoke bomb was thrown on the ground.

"Red Hood No. 5" turned around and knocked down the standing David, leading him to jump behind the bank counter to avoid the gunfire that was about to follow.

But Bruce turned around and rushed out like a ferocious beast. His shoulder seemed to hit a bronze statue weighing several hundred kilograms. He groaned and looked up in shock.

It's not that he hasn't considered that this young boy has practiced fighting skills, but no matter how powerful the fighting skills are, the weight of the body cannot be changed. How could he, who is proficient in more than a hundred styles of fighting skills, not be able to hit him during a surprise attack?

David, who didn't feel he needed to hide, glanced at the wrinkled skin on the neck under the surprised middle-aged face, chuckled, and threw Batman behind the solid wood counter.

The newly minted Batman is still a little green when it comes to his plans, but he already has the habit of always having a backup plan.

"Shoot, kill him!"

Seven or eight submachine guns fired at the same time, bullets roared out of the chamber, and the metal torrent easily penetrated the thick counter. Bruce Wayne lay on the ground holding his head.

The yellow bullets hit David's body one after another, immediately losing all kinetic energy and falling crisply to the ground.

"Ceasefire!"

Hundreds of bullets were released, and the red hooded leader gave a low shout.

In the faintly spreading smoke, a slender figure with a vague outline stood inside, not moving a step.

Several red-hooded minions were waiting for the figure who should be beaten into a sieve to fall straight back.

But in the smoke.

A dangerous purple light lit up.

"what?"

One of the minions frowned, holding the muzzle of his gun, squinting his eyes to see if something was lit.

Chi!

A laser shot out of the smoke, causing severe pain in his chest. He looked down in disbelief.

A blood hole as thick as a thumb penetrated his heart from front to back.

Bang!

The corpse fell, and bright red quickly spread on the floor of the hall.

"kill him!"

Aiming at the figure in the smoke, the Red Hoods fired in panic.

The counter served as a cover, and Bruce Wayne hid behind it, slightly tilting his head to reveal a pair of eyes with astonishment in them.

Whoosh, whoosh!

Not far in front of him, the handsome young man in a trench coat stood there, raising one arm as if it were a pistol.

Just like in the black and white silent movie, imagine that your finger is a pistol, and the handsome cowboy is fighting against the gangsters. Before losing his parents, Bruce Wayne's childhood was no exception. He played in the grass on his family's estate.

But at this moment, the figure really shot something out of his fingertips, but it wasn't a bullet - it was a purple laser!

Time seemed to slow down at this moment. In the bank lobby, looking from the side, the tall figure had a casual expression, using his fingers to shoot in the air slowly and unhurriedly, as if playing a game.

But it was as if death was calling his name.

The laser that burned the air shot through, and blood holes opened in the hearts of the gangsters who were fleeing in embarrassment with their hairs on end, and corpses fell to the ground.

[Shock from Bruce Wayne +43...]

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

I almost updated an extra chapter yesterday. I went to bed a little late and came here at noon. My head still hurts a little. I will adjust the time a little. The update will not be less, but it will be a little later. The update in the early morning will be updated during the day tomorrow. I will update it then. Write more to make amends.

Sorry, please read more. (ω)