American comic book: After mastering resurrection, I became incredibly popular.

Short sword, curved sword, iron chain.

Several different weapons reflected cold white spots of light in the morning light.

They didn't rush in together, but instead formed an encirclement before starting to tighten their grip, not intending to leave any room for the surrounded to be defeated one by one.

Bruce did not attempt to fight head-on. Instead, he used the momentum to leap onto the stone platform before the encirclement closed in. He kicked over the bronze incense burner on the platform, and immediately, scalding hot incense ash was splashed onto the faces of the two assassins directly in front of him.

"what!!"

Talia took two steps back, crossing her arms in front of her chest, looking just like a spectator enjoying a play.

Four minutes later, eleven incapacitated assassins lay sprawled on the ground. The last one tried to stand up, using his scimitar for support, but Bruce stepped on the blade, pressed his knee against the back of his neck, and then looked up at Talia.

"Talia, I don't have time to play your nonsense."

“You’re still as unreasonable as ever.” Talia pulled a dagger from her sleeve, not to stab him, but to flip it over and throw it to Bruce. “Let’s just be rougher then. Take your weapon, my love.”

More assassins poured in from outside the door.

Bruce took the dagger, then tucked the folding stick back into his sleeve, pulled a miniature flashbang from his belt, and smashed it to the ground.

The entire marble hall was instantly engulfed by blinding white light, and everyone's vision was simultaneously cleared.

By the time the assassins regained their sight, Bruce was no longer on the stone platform.

"Oh, you're still so... dangerous."

He stood behind Talia, his left arm around her shoulder, his right hand holding the dagger he had just used, the blade pressed against Talia's carotid artery.

The assassins froze in place, too afraid to advance further.

Talia glanced down at the dagger that had once belonged to her neck, and laughed nonchalantly. "Now look at you, you have a guest who has taken his master hostage, and a hostage who is willingly being held hostage."

“Tell me about the Riddler, and about Jason too,” Bruce whispered behind her.

“You know, Bruce, when you put a knife to someone’s throat, you have to be prepared to kill them, otherwise…” Talia breathed on Bruce, “otherwise you will get nothing.”

That damn woman!

Just as the two sides were deadlocked, the hall door was pushed open from the outside, and Bruce suddenly looked up.

A boy of about ten years old was standing by the door frame. He was wearing a dark blue training uniform, had a dark complexion, and his eyes and brows held a coldness that did not seem to belong to someone his age.

The boy stared at Bruce, his eyes mirroring Bruce's fierce determination: "Don't touch my mother!!"

"Damian, what are you doing here?" Talia asked, somewhat surprised.

“Mother?” Bruce frowned, looking at Talia with a complicated expression.

“Yes, I am his mother. Come, Damian, meet your father.”

Chapter 116 Damian Wayne

For years, Damian had wanted to know who his father was.

This question had been lingering in his mind since he could remember. He had asked it at every stronghold of the Assassin's Guild, his wet nurse, his martial arts instructor, and every confidant of his mother, but none of them knew the answer.

Could it be that he really sprang from a crack in a rock?

Later, on the night of his sixth birthday, his mother, Talia Elgul, called him to the top of the stone tower beside the Pool of Lazarus. They sat down on the ground, and Talia picked up a glass of red wine, bluntly stating Damian's desire to find his father. Talia's reply was: Damian, when you can defeat me in a fight, I will tell you everything about your father.

Damian remembered those words.

On his sixth birthday, he challenged Talia for the first time, but his mother locked him to the ground with a reverse joint lock, and he only lasted for about twenty seconds.

On his seventh birthday, he survived for half a minute.

On his eighth birthday, he left a shallow cut on Talia's left shoulder. It was the first time Talia had been injured by him during training. But he still lost that day.

On her ninth birthday, they fought for almost eight minutes. This was because Talia had gone easy on her.

Damian Wayne is almost ten years old this year.

During his ten years with the Assassins, he experienced far more than his peers.

While the other children were reciting multiplication tables, he was disassembling a sniper rifle.

While his peers were watching cartoons, he was in the tactical simulation room, working out ambush formations at the Alpine Pass using a projection sand table.

While his peers played outdoors, he underwent several days of unsupplied marching training deep in the Sahara Desert.

It's just...

Well, in short, within the entire League of Assassins, his physical abilities, fighting skills, and adaptability far surpass those of the vast majority of adult assassins.

Despite growing stronger, he ultimately failed to defeat his mother.

Damian had never seen his father, but he had always imagined what his father looked like. On those leisurely nights when he could daydream, he would lie on his bed at the top of the stone tower and contemplate the specific image of his father.

His father wasn't necessarily stronger than his mother, but he should have been just as proud. His father wasn't necessarily royalty, but he certainly wasn't mediocre. Otherwise, his mother wouldn't have shown that expression when mentioning that man—an expression young Damian could never comprehend.

His mother once told him: "You're becoming more and more like him. The way you frown is exactly like his; you inherited that from him."

What kind of man could be just as handsome as him? It's truly baffling.

Whenever he tried to press for more details, Talia would just smile and remain silent. He knew his mother enjoyed the feeling of being in control; she was very controlling of everyone, but her control over him was especially pronounced.

But Damian didn't mind. He was confident he would eventually beat her and pry all the answers out of her.

And so it went, day after day, for ten years.

Until today, Talia suddenly sent his guards.

"Bruce Wayne is here, Damian. He has taken Lady Talia hostage," the captain of the guard announced briefly, kneeling on one knee.

Damian asked again, "Bruce Wayne? That playboy, where is he?"

"In the lower lobby."

Damian didn't ask any unnecessary questions. He started running wildly down the corridor, his bare feet crunching on the cold marble floor, his breathing rapid.

When he ran to the entrance of the lower hall, he saw his mother being grabbed from behind by a man. The man's left arm was wrapped around his mother's shoulder, and his right hand was holding a dagger, the blade of which was pressed tightly against her neck.

It seems that the man was Bruce Wayne.

Dozens of guards formed a circle, but none of them dared to step forward.

Are you kidding me? This man is actually that strong?

The man had messy black hair and stubble on his chin that he hadn't shaved for days. When he stood there, he looked like a steel cable stretched to its limit.

"Don't touch my mother!!" Damian shouted immediately.

As soon as he finished speaking, the man looked at Damian.

Doubt, hesitation, and sudden realization.

"Mother?"

Talia laughed nonchalantly as he was being held captive: "That's right, Bruce, I am his mother. Come, Damian, meet your father."

Bruce's gaze lingered on Talia's face for half a second before shifting to Damian. He released his grip on Talia's shoulder, but still held the dagger in his hand.

“Talia, this boy is…”

“He’s your son.” Talia rubbed her aching shoulder. “Of course, another way to put it is: after the night you were ‘raped,’ I had a reason to keep you in the Middle East for a few more days, but unfortunately you ran back to Gotham too quickly.”

"rape?"

"Then how about drugging and raping her?"

Bruce's expression changed completely. "Why didn't you tell me? Talia, it's been ten whole years, and I had no idea you were pregnant."

"Why should I tell you? I'm doing it willingly. And ask yourself, Bruce Wayne, if you knew the heir to the League of Assassins was your own bloodline, what would you do? You would break in, take him away, make him a part of Gotham, make him another 'Robin' of yours."

“But I gave him a chance. I told him to train hard and that when he beat me, he would know the truth.”

"But it's all the same: because now, you have defeated me for your son."

"So...this person is my father?" Damian looked at Talia blankly.

“That’s right, Damian is your first name, and Wayne is your last name.”

"Impossible, absolutely impossible!" Damian interrupted his mother loudly.

Instead of getting angry, Talia laughed: "Don't you trust your mother, Damian?"

Damian walked to the center of the hall, standing between Bruce and Talia. Yes, his mother had never lied to him. He was now less than two meters away from Bruce, looking up directly at the man who was almost twice his height, the father he had thought about for ten years but had never met.

"Father, Father?"

Bruce's lips moved, "..."

Is this guy really my child? But looking at his expression, he's practically a carbon copy of me.

"Why did you only arrive now?" Damian asked.

Time passed, and Bruce didn't know how to answer Damian's question. Damian thought Bruce was ignoring him, so he clenched his fist and continued, "I'm asking you, why did you only come now?"

“Damian, you shouldn’t treat your father like this,” Talia said softly. “Come here.”

"No, don't." Damian turned his face away.

Talia wasn't angry. "Didn't you always want to see him? Did he disappoint you? You know, he's Gotham's Batman."

Bruce frowned, but Damian suddenly looked up when he heard "Batman," his eyes flashing with excitement.

“It seems you’ve made your choice, child,” Talia said with relief, then turned to Bruce. “Then, Bruce, Damian is in your hands.”

"What do you mean? Wait, are you sure?"

“Of course. You are more qualified to discipline him than I am, and you have raised children before. I trust you, my lover. Besides, the education provided by the Assassin’s Guild is not enough for him. If he wants to take on this responsibility, he must go through some ‘trials’. And you are here to help.”

“You woman… so you don’t know where Jason is?” Bruce’s face showed a complicated expression.

Talia breathed into Bruce's ear. "Of course, I have absolutely no idea. So you'll have to find out for yourself. Oh, go ahead and search, my love. Maybe you won't find Jason Todd, but at least you won't come back empty-handed."

Chapter 117 The Clay-Faced Man