American comics: From Hogwarts to God on Earth

Chapter 366 Night Owl: After all that, I still have to fight it all myself.

Since that night, Thomas had received no further messages from Dick, and an ominous premonition haunted Night Owl's nightmares. He began frantically searching for any trace of Dick.

For the sake of his beloved boy, Thomas even abandoned his principles and asked Superman to help him scan the entire Gotham, but apart from a few resistance groups being discovered, Superman did not find any trace of Dick.

"What a pity, I quite liked that kid." Superba made a regretful expression, but his eyes were full of schadenfreude.

Thomas could only watch them leave.

It was another ordinary day. Thomas, now a Night Owl, stood in his lair, having just finished a cleanup operation against the resistance. The smell of gunpowder and blood still lingered on his dark blue armor.

Around him were surveillance equipment, alien technology weapons, and instruments of torture used to inflict pain.

At least in Earth-3, the Owl's surveillance equipment is legal.

However, as Night Owl continued his careful search for Dick's trail, he received six rather beautiful gifts that appeared out of nowhere in Night Owl's secret base. Thomas did not go up to open the packages, but immediately rolled behind the nearest cover.

There was no explosion, no ticking of an alarm clock —

Even so, the owl chose to leave its den directly, only returning a day later.

No explosion, no poison gas —

Thomas leaned closer and examined the beautiful gift boxes carefully. It was clear that the giver had put a lot of thought into the gifts. The boxes were wrapped in the finest black velvet and tied with huge, exaggerated, and gaudy purple ribbon bows. There was also a note on top of each box.

There was no sender listed, only a twisted but beautiful dark green message: "To Dear Mr. Owl."

The color scheme made Night Owl's eyes widen. His absolute sense of danger and malice, honed through countless brushes with death, sounded a sharp alarm in that instant.

This ritualistic provocation also revealed a kind of madness that he both knew and loathed—

His nemesis, the buffoon!

Night Owl's expression turned grim. He carried the boxes out of the core area and scanned the gift boxes with his instruments. There were no trigger traps inside the boxes, only a few organic objects with peculiar shapes.

Thomas took a deep breath. He was finally ready to open the boxes, but unease crept up his spine like cold vines. He dismissed his men.

A certain intuition told him that these gifts were definitely quite private.

The ribbon slipped down, the pretty bow was untied, and he lifted the lid of the box. Inside, there was a pure white, soft, and luxurious silk lining. The extreme white contrasted sharply with the black velvet outer box, but that wasn't the main point.

Lying atop the pristine white silk was an arm—a young, strong, and sculpted male arm. Due to excessive blood loss, the skin was deathly pale, and a faint, putrid odor could even be detected, yet the power it contained was still discernible.

Familiar, very familiar. This familiarity made Thomas's eyes widen.

His breath caught for a moment. Thomas seemed to see that arm lash out with claws, tearing apart an enemy's throat; he saw it catch his dart; and he saw it gently caress his chest as if touching a precious, fragile object—

He looked at the other boxes almost mechanically.

Arms, thighs, torso —

Thomas's hands began to tremble uncontrollably as he grabbed the last box.

Thomas Wayne—one of the rulers of Earth-3, the first detective who made Gotham and the world tremble, and the destroyer of the Resistance—now felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

He took a deep breath and gently opened the last box, inside which lay the head of Dick Grayson.

Dick's black hair was meticulously combed, his blue eyes were wide open and empty, his pupils had long since lost focus, and a terrifying expression was on his face, as if he had seen something horrible, but the corners of his mouth were outlined with a maniacal smile by bright red paint.

Dick would never show that smile; it was a sign of another madman, and a mockery of himself.

call----

Heavy breathing could be heard.

His vision blurred, and the whole world spun and distorted before Thomas's eyes. He even felt that he was not standing on a solid concrete floor, but on constantly rolling cotton. Before he knew it, Thomas had fallen.

A battle-hardened soldier actually tripped and fell on flat ground.

Grief and anger began to surge within him. The child he had forged with his own hands, his beloved weapon, everything he cared about most had been brutally taken away. Not only had it been killed, but it had been desecrated, crushed in the most extreme and frenzied way, and then presented to him.

The clown, and his accomplice, Harley Quinn —

"You all must die!!!"

"I'm really growing to like you more and more. Your deadly joke was really funny. Look at the owl now—" The clown laughed. He hadn't laughed like that in a long time, until Rune broadcasted the owl's reaction when it saw its gift.

Rune smiled at him and said, "Don't say that. This is another one of your ideas."

The other one, the one I want to kill—

A cold glint flashed in the powerful mage's eyes. "Even without me, you would have come up with this wonderful idea sooner or later."

"Oh~~ Are you implying that I'm not as good as the other clowns?" The clown's mouth twitched, and he was actually about to cry. It was Harley Quinn who hugged him and comforted him like a child.

It's clear that in this universe, the relationship between Joker and Harley Quinn is ridiculously close. But Rune can understand it; in other universes, Joker always actively dumps Harley, but in this universe, Joker cares a lot about Harley, and then there's Harley Quinn's initiative—

"What a pity," Harley pouted. "Dick's ass is pretty perky."

Never mind what I said.

Rune rolled his eyes.

As Rune watched Harley and the clown playfully bickering, he pondered to himself, "What good things are there on Earth-3?"

Perhaps we could obtain blood from several other criminal syndicates and see if we could achieve bloodline fusion.

Secondly, there's the equivalent of the Green Lantern Ring, but Rune wasn't particularly interested in the ring itself.

Aside from having the same abilities, the biggest difference between the Power Ring and the Green Lantern Ring is that the former selects people who harbor negative emotions such as anxiety or fear, and continuously erodes the host's body by exploiting the host's weakness until the next host is found.

However, Rune was quite interested in the little blue people in this universe and the power of the Ring itself.