American comics: Starting with replicating Superman's talent

Chapter 156 The Death Knell Strikes

"This town is always shrouded in mystery."

Bruce, flipping through the documents, held several photos in his hands, his expression serious.

One of the photos clearly shows an exaggeratedly large claw mark on the abdomen of a Wayne Enterprises employee.

Afu straightened his back and asked with impeccable manners, "So, you plan to put on your armor again and head to the town?"

Although the old man's voice was calm, his trembling little finger revealed that Afu was experiencing turbulent emotions. He was worried that his young master would suffer the pain of being gay again.

"No, Alfred, perhaps I won't be able to make it this time." Bruce shook his head, his eyes lowered. "Recently, there have been many murders in Gotham City, and the perpetrators always leave some seemingly meaningful clues at the crime scene."

"To prevent more people from being harmed, I had to stop him."

"So, what about Smallville?"

Bruce thought for a moment, then tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "We have money, Alfred, and money can do a lot of things, including getting people to do things for you."

Neither Batman nor Bruce Wayne are inflexible people. If money can solve some problems, Bruce Wayne will immediately use his financial power to resolve them.

As he stroked his stubble, Bruce turned on his computer and used the mouse to log into a mysterious website.

After posting the $500,000 bounty, Bruce smiled faintly: "Now, all we have to do is wait."

"Da da da~"

Bullets whistled through the air, and fire lines intertwined.

Inside the abandoned factory filled with the smell of gunpowder and gunpowder, several men with white headscarves pulled the triggers, sending bullets flying onto a steel plate not far away.

The bullets struck the steel, scattering sparks and leaving visible craters of varying depths.

The bullets struck the steel plate, making a series of clanging sounds.

"Whoosh!"

Within the dense line of fire, two smoke grenades landed on the ground, instantly spewing out large amounts of thick white smoke.

Immediately afterwards, an orange figure leaped out of cover, wielding two short submachine guns, rolling across the wasteland as he pulled the trigger.

"Da da da~"

Unlike these guys with white headscarves, the lone ranger's marksmanship far surpassed that of the group.

Every bullet hit each person's limbs and torso with precision.

The skull was pierced, blood gushed out, and thick blood splattered down the opening, accompanied by the sound of bodies falling to the ground.

"One, two, three."

The lone traveler listened intently, constantly calculating the sound of the fall.

"Eleven."

The single eye remaining beneath the orange-black mask narrowed slightly.

"Two hundred thousand US dollars have been deposited into the account."

The assassin tucked two submachine guns into the holsters on his left and right thighs.

He sighed softly, and wearily reached out to remove the mask from his face, revealing a middle-aged man with a weathered look.

A stubble of beard, graying hair, and those sinister eyes...

He had a robust physique, stood over 1.9 meters tall, and wore a textured orange-yellow battle armor.

The two sharp and long samurai swords on his back clearly indicate that this is not someone to be trifled with.

The man's name is Slade Wilson, codenamed Deathstroke, a veteran in the mercenary world, and the strongest mercenary in the world.

His firearms and hand-to-hand combat skills are world-class. In addition, his participation in certain special military experiments when he was young gave him superhuman self-healing abilities and the terrifying ability to develop his brain to 90%.

"Well done, the payment has been received."

Not far away, Slade's assistant, Dongqing, approached with a smile. After tossing his friend a cigar, Dongqing asked with a laugh, "What's next? Going to some island for a relaxing vacation?"

"Rest?" Slade shook his head in refusal. "Holly, I don't have time to rest."

"Please find me another job. I'll definitely take a break after I finish the next one."

"I knew you'd say that." Dongqing shrugged and handed a stack of documents to Deathstroke.

"This is a good mission I found on the assassin website, and the reward is generous."

Slade flipped through the documents, pondering whether the difficulty of these tasks was proportional to their rewards.

Mercenaries aren't stupid; they won't accept tasks that are too difficult, laborious, and thankless.

Slade quickly flipped through a number of documents.

However, he was not satisfied with most of them, either assassinating certain political figures or eliminating his employer's business competitors.

Until, after his rough fingers turned to yet another document.

"Chasing a giant beast located at Wayne Enterprises' Smallville branch?"

"A reward of five hundred thousand US dollars?"

Slade frowned.

He certainly wasn't foolish enough to think the mission was so simple, but Deathstroke was curious about what this so-called giant beast was.

Everyone has curiosity, more or less.

"Holly, what do you think?"

"Me?" Assistant Dongqing clicked his tongue. "I remember the name of this town. Someone once commissioned us to search for a gem in this town."

"Considering this mission, perhaps this town is not as simple as it seems."

"Isn't that more interesting?" Slade picked up the mask again and put it on his head.

The mask concealed his blind eye, but his remaining eye gleamed with a fierce light: "We'll take this mission."

sunset.

Beneath the dense forest, damp maple leaves carpeted the ground, turning the entire land a golden yellow.

"quack!"

Several ravens howled, their claws treading on maple leaves, staring with one eye at a "giant" not far away.

"Huh?"

A raven flapped its wings, slowly raised its head, and its sharp beak struck the "giant's" forehead.

"Well!"

The once serene giant's body began to tremble slowly.

The crows were startled and scattered in all directions.

Clark slowly opened his eyes, the eerie cawing of ravens echoing in his ears.

My brain feels slightly dizzy, like the head after a hangover.

"What happened?" Clark rubbed his temples and slowly stood up.

Looking around, struggling to recall recent memories, his expression grew increasingly strange: "I... I think I fainted?"

Without having time to consider why he had suddenly fainted, Clark staggered toward the spaceship.

He now has to take the aircraft back to meet up with Gino and save his adoptive mother's life.

However, the spacecraft was incredibly heavy, like holding a mountain in one's hands. The spaceship, which Clark could usually lift easily, was now completely immovable to him.

"What happened?"

The superhuman strength that he used to be so proud of seems to have vanished without a trace.

Clark frowned, spread his legs, and gripped the edge of the spaceship with both hands, straining so hard that his fingers turned white.

But even with all his might, Clark found that he couldn't move the spaceship.

"I can't be."

Clark's face gradually paled. He looked down at his pale arm, and an absurd thought surfaced in his mind: "He's lost his abilities!?"

(End of this chapter)