American comics: Starting with replicating Superman's talent

Chapter 83 The Curtain Rises

Elliott Manor late at night.

Gino dropped the canvas bag he was carrying.

The boy took off his suit, revealing a well-built physique.

"Splash!"

The zipper was pulled open by Gino's force, revealing a suit of clothes resembling a claw assassin.

Looking at the costumes on the ground, Gino was speechless: "Why would any superhero like to fight in a uniform? It's ridiculous torture."

Frankly speaking, fighting in this kind of uniform is not only inconvenient due to lack of breathability, but the tight-fitting clothes also greatly restrict the user's physical movements.

If the movements are too large, the tight-fitting clothes might even tear, leading to an embarrassing situation.

Most importantly, if the wearer has intestinal problems, it would be a disaster…

Kicked the canvas bag under the bed, Gino lay lazily on the bed, holding the green kryptonite in his hand, absorbing its special energy.

He pondered everything that had happened that night.

Playing as a Claw assassin, he kills Maroney in front of all the powerful figures in Gotham.

If I'm not mistaken, the people at the meeting who saw my appearance change instantly are probably all connected to the Owl Council.

But Gino wasn't in a hurry at all; he was looking forward to the moment when he would pull out those rats hiding in the shadows.

early morning.

The red-light district remains as vibrant and bustling as ever.

Marco is a minor gang leader in Gotham City.

To be honest, in Gotham City, where gang competition is extremely fierce, he alone could not have risen to the position of a mid-level gang leader.

Fortunately, he received funding from some mysterious individuals, which helped him secure his position.

In return, he needs to help those mysterious people investigate strange things from time to time.

For example, tonight a guy dressed in weird clothes assassinated Maroney.

To be honest, Maroney's death was a disaster for the underworld.

His power crumbled, and other forces were also stirring, wanting to devour what originally belonged to Maroni.

Marco pushed open the door and walked into the tailor shop.

"Welcome to Oliver Tailor Shop. What can I do for you?"

The person in charge of greeting Marco was an old man in his sixties.

He had a pencil clipped to his ear for recording measurements, and a measuring tape wrapped around one hand—a typical tailor's attire.

Looking at the old tailor, Marco's eyes darted around, and he grinned slyly, "Excuse me, can you make this kind of clothing?"

He pulled a piece of white paper from his pocket, on which was drawn a picture of a clawed assassin.

The old tailor rubbed his eyes, looked at the design drawings, and muttered, "How strange, a few days ago a kid also ordered this kind of dress from me."

Upon hearing the tailor's words, Marco felt his breathing quicken.

He never expected that the very first shop he entered would contain a clue.

"Excuse me, do you know his name?" Marco pursed his lips and looked at the old tailor.

"Sigh, look at my head, I can't remember some things." The old tailor drawled, a greedy glint in his eyes.

He certainly remembered the young man; although the man was wearing a mask, he had left his name.

Marco smiled.

Having mingled in both the legitimate and criminal worlds for many years, he naturally knew what the other party wanted.

Marco pulled a bundle of US dollars tied with a small rubber band from his pocket and threw it on the counter.

The old tailor picked up the stack of US dollars, counted them in his hand, and revealed a satisfied smile.

He turned and went behind the counter, quickly pulling out a small note: "This man calls himself Gino Luther, and lives at Elliott Manor."

"Very good." Marco put the note away with satisfaction.

Then he raised his left hand.

He held a dark, black revolver in his hand.

"Bang!"

The bullet pierced the old man's skull, and a greedy smile remained on his face as he died.

Marco blew away the smoke rising from the muzzle of the gun, then reached out and took the stack of US dollars from the old tailor's hand.

He took off his top hat to salute the old tailor, then turned and left the tailor shop.

It was the familiar round table conference room again.

A group of dignitaries wearing white owl masks sat in a circle.

"Our loyal hound has brought the latest news."

The man at the head of the table slowly began to speak: "It has been confirmed that the one who framed the court that night was Lauren Elliott's grandson, Geno Luther from Metropolis."

When Elliott's name was heard, many people present chuckled.

"That loser?"

"Did he instruct his unfortunate grandson to retaliate against us?"

"This guy seems to have gone mad."

"Was the Luther family involved?"

"Even a powerful dragon can't suppress a local snake. If the Luther family dares to extend their claws, we'll cut them down!"

They discussed it in whispers.

"Alright, gentlemen and ladies." The leader tapped the table.

The noise receded like the tide.

In the silence, the person in the head seat slowly spoke: "Let's proceed according to the plan we discussed last night."

"Send out its claws to claim lives."

"The Elliott family name is too old."

"It's time for it to exit the stage of Gotham's history!"

No matter when, the sky over Gotham is always gray.

The next morning, Gino was awakened from his deep sleep by the sound of rain.

"Damn day." Gino rubbed his eyes and looked out the window.

A torrential downpour began to fall from the gray sky.

Large raindrops pattered against the window.

Gino got dressed and went downstairs, where he saw Dr. Harlin organizing the consultation records on the table.

"Dr. Harleen," Gino glanced at the heavy rain outside the window, then looked at the girl, "Good morning."

Harlin smiled shyly: "Good morning, Mr. Gino."

Gino smiled but didn't speak to the shy psychologist.

He stood in front of the glass window of the house, his azure eyes gazing intently out the window.

Harleen glanced at Gino instinctively, staring into his blue eyes. Curious, she couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Gino, what are you looking at?"

"What are you looking at?"

Gino smiled slightly, gently closed his eyes, and whispered, "Miss Harleen, didn't you hear me?"

The psychiatrist was slightly taken aback, even perking up his ears: "What did you hear?"

Gino did not answer; his mind was focused on listening.

He heard the commotion outside the manor.

The sound of raindrops pattering against clothes as they pour down from the sky in the heavy rain.

There seemed to be something, like a group of people, silently approaching the manor.

Gino opened his eyes, and his once gentle gaze instantly turned sharp and terrifying.

Through the glass and the manor's iron gate, Gino saw a group of strange people dressed in black uniforms and wearing owl eye masks.

They were all tall and burly, their chest armor belts were equipped with several throwing knives, and their hands were inlaid with two cold bayonets, which, like the sharp claws of birds, revealed a chilling killing intent in the rainy night.

Gino slowly pushed open the gate of the manor.

The boy stepped out of the house, letting the torrential rain pelt him.

The rain in Gotham also carried a cold, pungent chemical smell.

Gino took a deep breath.

He watched as the assassins leaped lightly over the iron bars that were more than two meters high, their footsteps landing silently on the damp ground, their orange eye masks gleaming in the rainy night.

Gino smiled, opened his arms, and said:

"Is anyone leaving before the fight begins?"

(End of this chapter)