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

Chapter Twenty-Five: Suffering, and More Battles to Come

Gotham City, Diamond District.

Tim Drake was lying on the roof of a fifteen-story apartment building, with the eyepiece of a high-powered electronic telescope attached to his left eye.

On the other side of the camera is an extravagantly designed private residence, but what Tim is interested in is the south-facing floor-to-ceiling window on the seventh floor. The window is not curtained, and warm yellow light shines out from inside, illuminating everything inside.

Tim saw a tall man sitting in the living room, his blond hair looking incredibly greasy under the light.

That's right, this person is "Little Bird". And his falcon is perched on the perch next to the sofa, preening the feathers under its wings with its curved beak.

Two or three men sat opposite the bird, with several bottles of Macallan whiskey that were not yet finished on the coffee table.

Beside the little bird was an old man with a gaunt face, wearing a tailcoat.

He seemed to be telling a joke, which made the people present laugh.

"One, two, three, four, five..."

As Tim counted the heads, he switched the binoculars to thermal scanning mode. "There are two more sentries in the basement and a mobile sentry at the back door. There are at least eight people in this building, and they're having a party."

Then, he took more than a dozen photos of the faces of several people and stored them in the device before turning on the communication channel.

"Rang, have you got things sorted out on your end?"

The voice of the Angel of Death came through Tim's headset:

“It’s done. I’ve placed the bug inside the marble fireplace relief; they definitely won’t find it. I’m slipping out the side door now, and I’ll be over to you in a minute.”

A minute later, the Angel of Death silently landed beside Tim.

"Guess what they're talking about?" Tim handed him an in-ear headset crossover.

The Angel of Death took the headset.

"...So I told him, 'You're bound to get into trouble sooner or later with this kind of behavior.'" A hoarse male voice came from the other end of the bug, tinged with alcohol. "And guess what? That kid Claw ripped him in two ribs!"

A burst of laughter followed.

“I’ve said it before, Claw is the most ruthless kid I’ve ever met.”

"You'd better handle it well, little bird!"

Upon hearing this, Tim increased the sensitivity of the bugging device and activated the voice filtering program.

"Controlling claws? Do they have some kind of magic?" Tim asked, completely bewildered.

The Angel of Death scoffed, "More magic..."

At that moment, the sound of a "bird" came from the other end of the listening device.

"Of course! Don't you know who trained him? I've raised him for so long, do you really think he's just for show? Come on, Claws, fly over here!"

Then, a sharp screech exploded from their earpieces.

Tim and the Angel of Death simultaneously pulled their headsets out of their ears.

"Damn it," the Angel of Death cursed.

That guy's falcon is also called "Claw"?

"So we came to the wrong place? I didn't even notice the bird's name before!"

No, it seems they already had a plan to find the "little bird"!

"...They said they have plans for tonight, let's listen to them again."

Tim put the headset back in, just as the gaunt old man was loudly announcing something in his usual exaggerated tone.

"Alright, that's enough for the party. Thank you all for your support. I'd like to give you a heads-up: tonight, our target is Wayne Group's unfinished seaside property development. Do you know how much that land is worth?"

"How many?"

"Enough for each of you to buy two islands in the Caribbean."

"What are you planning to do?"

"Hahaha, then let's see what 'Claws' can do!"

Amidst a burst of boisterous laughter, Tim had already retrieved the relevant files for the beachfront property development.

Several rows of data pop up on the screen:

Wayne Group’s Coast project, located five kilometers southeast of Gotham Harbor, was originally planned to consist of three high-end apartment buildings. Currently, only one building has been topped out, while the other two are still in the reinforced concrete frame stage.

Tim immediately began to think about it.

Claws? Which "claws" are they talking about? If they're referring to that bird, what can it do?

Suddenly, Tim had a flash of inspiration and retrieved all the flight path data for Gotham's airspace that day.

He discovered a red cargo route map in the airspace directly opposite the housing development, starting from Gotham Port and ending at Metropolis.

The route passes by that housing development...

“Let’s get out of here right now.” Tim realized something and grabbed the Angel of Death’s arm, pulling him towards the stairwell. “They’re not just trying to cause a car accident, they’re planning a plane crash!”

"Plane crash?"

"right!!"

Meanwhile, in that very house, the little bird was raising a glass of whiskey and clinking glasses with the old gentleman.

The little bird drank the wine in the cup in one gulp.

“By the way, please pass on a message to Bane,” the gentleman said, pulling a cigar from his suit pocket and sniffing it, “that tonight, we will storm Wayne Manor and take that troublesome old butler away. That way, all of Bruce Wayne’s business documents and the original will will be in our hands.”

These words forced the little bird to put down his wine glass. He stared at the old face across from him for a few seconds and couldn't help but laugh.

Are you sure?

"Completely certain."

“That’s incredibly audacious. Owls are nocturnal, that’s true, but I don’t think they can gain any advantage in bat territory. Bain told us not to alert them…”

The old gentleman calmly removed the cap from his cigar.

"But only the brave can witness miracles, dear little bird. The reason we're able to suppress Wayne's side right now is because nobody expected us to just storm into their house."

The little bird remained silent for a long time, then picked up the wine bottle on the table and filled both of their glasses, before raising its glass to the old man.

“Mr. Clark, I wish you all the best with your ‘Claws’.”

Best of luck.

"Tonight, Gotham belongs to us."

"From this day forward, Gotham belongs to us."

……

On the other hand, tonight's beautiful dream does not belong to Wang Baixi.

He was lying on the soft bed, having just fallen asleep, when he was abruptly awakened by the ringing system notification in his head.

[High-level undead aura detected!]

[Experience points +60]

[High-level undead aura detected!]

[Experience points +80]

[Aura of a mid-level deceased detected!]

[Experience points +30]

Current experience points: 170/1600

[Resurrection spell cooldown countdown: 123 hours 20 minutes]

Wang Baixi: "..."

In that instant, he felt like a student who had accidentally fallen asleep the night before an exam, and when he woke up, his teacher told him: "You're awake, the college entrance exam is over."

No need to think about it, it must be claws.

It couldn't be that Alfred, Joshua, Cassandra, and the others all committed suicide, could it?

He immediately rolled out of bed and reached for the communication device Alfred had left him on the bedside table. There were several voice messages on the screen, with the timestamp being 1 a.m., which was just a few minutes earlier.

Wang Baixi pulled up his trouser leg while pressing the play button.

Alfred's voice came through the device, speaking several times faster than usual, yet his tone remained as calm as that of a British butler.

"Mr. Wang, Wayne Manor has been invaded. The intruders' modus operandi is highly consistent with the Claws you described during the day. Please proceed to the Batcave immediately. Repeat: Proceed to the Batcave immediately."

Second comment:

"Mr. Wang, are you still sleeping? Please proceed to the Bat Cave immediately!!"

Wang Baixi stuffed the communication device into his pocket and immediately rushed out of the bedroom barefoot.

All the lights in the corridor were off, with only the emergency lights casting a dim glow. Cassandra's room was wide open, but it was empty.

On the lawn outside the window, several dark figures could be seen moving quickly, while the sound of shattering glass kept coming.

It seems even the security at Wayne Manor can't stop everything.

"All I want is a good night's sleep!"

He ran along the corridor toward the main staircase, and nearly bumped into Joshua, who was rushing towards him, as he turned the corner.

"Wang, you're awake? We're surrounded by a bunch of guys wearing owl masks! Pennyworth ordered us all to retreat to the underground passage! That girl has been holding them off downstairs for a while now!"

"What's the situation now?"

"They have already breached the first-floor lobby."

The two rushed down the stairs, and when they reached the first floor, the scene in the lobby made Wang Baixi freeze for a fraction of a second.

At least three claws were launching an attack simultaneously in the lobby on the first floor.

Cassandra stood with her back to them, blocking the grandfather clock, while Alfred held a shotgun. The old butler, a former secret agent, was aiming the barrel at the claws, but he couldn't keep up with their speed.