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

No sooner had he finished speaking than the piercing sound of police sirens rang out from the alley entrance. Several GCPD police cars stopped at the alley entrance, all six doors opened simultaneously, and several policemen in bulletproof vests advanced into the alley with guns at the ready.

"Damn it, I still have things to settle down! What about my gang? What about my business? I haven't even had a chance to..." The Penguin's tone sounded both pleading and roaring.

Amidst the sirens, Wang Baixi took two steps back and waved to the Penguin.

“Didn’t you say you’d make me the Emperor Penguin? I’ll take good care of your gang… oh no, our gang.” He smiled at the penguin backwards. “You’re welcome, boss.”

After saying that, he and the Angel of Death turned and ran into the depths of the alley.

The Penguin was about to unleash a torrent of curses, but just as the police were pulling him up from the ground, the metal patch on the back of his neck emitted a soft buzzing sound.

He immediately shut his mouth.

“Oswald Copport, we have received a report that you have been arrested on suspicion of kidnapping, illegal possession of a weapon, and multiple attempted murders. You have the right to remain silent, but everything you say will be considered…”

The Penguin didn't listen. He stared at the two figures disappearing into the shadows at the end of the alley, mentally calculating how to complete his mission within Blackgate Prison, while silently chanting:

"Emperor Penguin? I'll fuck your mother, Wang Baixi!"

Chapter Thirty: Why Suffer in Death?

Evening, Splendid Bridge.

The most crimson rays of the setting sun in Gotham City streamed down through the gaps between the steel bridge towers, turning the Splendor River beneath the bridge into a lacerated vein.

The bridge, which suffered unprecedented damage last night, still stands, connecting the Upper East Side of Midtown with Robinsville in the Upper East Side, its structure groaning in the river wind.

Wang Baixi sat on the edge of a cave below the bridge pier, his back against the damp rock wall, with a pile of equipment such as grappling hook guns beside him and a Tim-modified encrypted communication device in his hand.

However, the device seemed unstable, with the screen flashing the penguin's location signal on and off.

The Angel of Death crouched beside him as he stared at the section of guardrail on the south side of the bridge that had been knocked askew, overwhelmed with mixed emotions.

“Last night, between six and seven o’clock, Bain caused a multi-vehicle collision on that bridge. At least thirty cars were involved, and nearly a hundred people died.”

"Nearly a hundred people? That's an exaggeration!"

In Wang Baixi's memory, there have been traffic accidents involving so many vehicles, but none of them resulted in so many deaths.

“Not at all, because two tanker trucks exploded at the time,” the Angel of Death said in a deep voice.

“No wonder,” Wang Baixi pouted with a complicated expression. “When I went to the morgue that day, the warden told me that there were quite a few people who were victims of Bain.”

The Angel of Death didn't reply, but continued to stare at the railing.

After a while, he turned to look at him.

"My lord, can you hear the whispers of the dead?"

"No, my Deathrattle only works on non-human, inanimate objects, like cats and dogs. What's wrong?"

"I'm just curious, what does death feel like? Is there really a revolving lantern before a person dies?" His tone was flat, making it impossible to tell whether he was pondering philosophy or simply chatting, while his gaze remained fixed on the bridge.

“Once I bring Batman back, you can ask him if he saw anything,” Wang Baixi looked up at him from the screen, then lowered his head again and began to grumble. “Right now, I just want to know how Tim managed to fix these electronic devices, and whether the machine is broken.”

"You can open your tactical belt and see if there's anything that can help you... Oh, looks like I don't need to."

As soon as the Angel of Death finished speaking, the screen of the device in Wang Baixi's hand finally displayed a complete signal tracking interface.

A green dot of light moved slowly across a satellite map of Gotham City. Judging from its trajectory, the Penguin must have taken a taxi to Blackgate Prison...

Oh no, it's riding in a police car.

“He really did it.” The Angel of Death leaned over and took a look.

“That’s what you call being a wise person when you know when to yield, so we don’t have to resort to Plan B,” Wang Baixi said with a sigh of relief, then looked up and smiled at the Angel of Death. “By the way, don’t let Tim know about this.”

He'll find out sooner or later.

"Then don't let him find out so soon."

After saying that, the two continued to crouch at the edge of the cave, one keeping a close eye on the green dot and the other on the Sprun Bridge.

However, they were unaware that they were being watched.

……

In an abandoned shipping control building on the north bank of the Spangled Bridge, cavemen are setting up a high-powered telescope on the windowsill.

The binoculars were coldly locked onto the two blurry figures below the bridge pier. Behind him stood five of Bain's newly hired men, each with a loaded submachine gun tucked into their waistband.

A frustrated expression squeezed out from the caveman's fleshy face.

His mission for the day was to track the Penguin, find an opportunity to capture him, and then take over his poor gang without bloodshed. However, the Penguin was taken away by the police in the afternoon, forcing him to follow Bane's instructions and turn to tracking the Angel of Death to investigate the cause of the whole incident.

He had some recollection of the Angel of Death, but who was the young man with the Asian face beside the Angel of Death? The caveman had no idea.

"Do you know that Asian man?" the caveman asked a mercenary beside him in a gruff voice, turning his head to the side.

"do not know."

"Didn't your boss mention him to you?"

The mercenary's true identity was Penguin's henchman; just 24 hours ago, he was dutifully calling Oswald Copport "boss" until he was arrested.

The "he" here does not refer to the Penguin who has turned to the light, but is actually the mercenary himself.

At 3:30 a.m. yesterday, he was at Adams Pier, quietly undertaking the rearguard task assigned to them by the Penguins.

However, with the appearance of Nightwing, Bane, and others, he followed Ignatius Ogilvy and surrendered to Bane.

It was then that he learned that Ignatius Ogilvy, that skinny monkey, had long been having an affair with Bane.

Since the group was powerless, they had no choice but to follow the social principle that those who invest first will lead to those who invest later.

Come to think of it, if Claw hadn't found Ogilvy too talkative and stabbed him to death, that guy could have gotten a decent position in Bane's camp...

Alas, he even carved "War on Wayne" on his body to show his loyalty, but considering the outcome, it all turned out to be a mess.

"No, I bet the Penguin has never seen that Asian."

“I’ll believe you for now,” the caveman said, then produced a penguin brooch and handed it to the mercenary. “You know what this is, right?”

The mercenary's eyes widened immediately upon seeing the brooch, and he stammered, "Oh! I know, that's the brooch of the Penguin Gang's second-in-command!"

“Yes, this brooch was originally with Ogilvy. Our original plan was to kill the Penguin and then, according to your gang rules, let Ogilvy take over. But now, they're both gone... But the Penguin Gang still needs someone to run it.”

The caveman's voice grew softer and softer, but the mercenary's eyes grew increasingly greedy. In the end, he simply put on the brooch and readily accepted the offer.

"I will certainly not let Bain down! I will be loyal and faithful!"

"That's good." The caveman twitched the corner of his mouth.

Just then, the wireless communication device in his pocket rang.

He pulled out the device; the caller ID showed it was from a zombie.

What brings you here?

"Caveman, have you found anything over there? I've been staking out Wayne Manor for ages and haven't even seen a bat. Do you think that fake Batman really exists? Or is the court just overreacting?"

The cave dwellers' gaze remained fixed on the area below the bridge.

"If you're asking if I saw that fake Batman? No! Don't bother me! Bane's about to call, don't block the line!"

"Are you out of your mind? Bain wants us to have results by tomorrow, you have to let me make something up..."

Just as the caveman was about to hang up the phone, the view through the telescope suddenly changed.

The Angel of Death stood up from under the bridge pier, pulled out a grappling hook gun, fired a shot towards the bridge deck above, and was then pulled onto the bridge.

Upon seeing this, he immediately adjusted the direction of the telescope.

"interesting……"

"what?"

"The guy in the red cloak has made his move..."

……

On the Sprunt Bridge, a man stands on the edge of a warped guardrail. A dozen meters behind him, a crowd of onlookers holds up their phones, and a Gotham Police Department vehicle is nearby. Two officers are trying to approach him.

"Don't come any closer!"

As the Angel of Death landed on the bridge, he quickly retracted his grappling hook and consciously slowed his pace as he walked toward the man.

"Sir, please calm down."

This was a task Tim had given them half an hour ago.

The man in front of him had gone live an hour earlier, claiming that he was going to commit suicide on the Splendor Bridge.

At first, no one paid any attention to it, but when he kept shouting hysterically at the camera and actually walked onto the bridge, people realized that this was not a prank.

Therefore, Tim placed his hopes on the Death Angel who was out and about and Wang Baixi.

He simply assumed they had gone out to look for clues.

"Calm down?! I can't calm down?!" The man turned around and yelled at the Angel of Death. He was wearing a dirty plaid shirt, and the stubble on his face had been growing for at least five or six days.

"My name is the Angel of Death, and I'm here to help you." The Angel of Death stopped in place, keeping a few steps away from the man.

"Help me?" The man forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "How can you help me? Can you bring my wife and children back to life? Can you save my life?"

"What exactly happened?"

"Ha... I'm a piece of trash, you know that?"

"I do not know."

"That's a rhetorical question! You bastard!"

The man roared at the angel of death, utterly despondent.

“A few months ago, I had a job that was neither respectable nor well-regarded, but it was still a job. I could support my wife and children on the meager salary. But in the end, I lost the job simply because I upset my boss!”

“Until yesterday, my former boss gave me a chance. He said, ‘Hey kid, if you take good care of my parrot, I’ll let you come back to work!’”

"But guess what? It died! I didn't even see what that silly bird looked like before it died!"

As a result, I lost this job again...