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

"Alright, why are you being so serious? Dick Grayson! How could we kill him? He was chosen by the Court of Owls!"

Tim's pupils involuntarily contracted.

"You're lying."

“No, I didn’t,” Clark continued. “The Wayne family heir, Bruce Wayne’s adopted son, the Wonder Boy, Nightwing—those are his identities, right? Heh heh heh, but he has another identity: the Court’s ‘Grey Son,’ the Court’s assassin…”

“Nonsense!” Tim interrupted him.

“That’s not important, Robin. What’s important is the court’s approval of him and the capital we have in this war.”

"We know everything about Batman and the Wayne family, but Batman, Bruce Wayne, his adopted son Grayson, and his good friend Nightwing are all gone!"

"You had no chance of winning this war from the very beginning. Every breath you took was being monitored, but you were completely unaware of it."

"Hold on……"

The car was going faster and faster, but Clark calmly stretched out his finger and pressed the switch for the car radio.

The news anchor's urgent voice immediately came through the radio.

"...Important Notice! Just now, a large-scale patient escape occurred at Arkham Asylum. According to on-site reporters, unidentified individuals have deployed a large number of weapons to Arkham via drones. The GCPD has dispatched all available police forces to the Arkham area."

"The mayor's office urges all citizens to stay home and not go out..."

"It's Bane! So you're really in cahoots with Bane?" Tim exclaimed.

He first caused a plane crash, and now he's opened the gates of Arkham. Is his goal really just to destroy Wayne Enterprises?

“Now, Wonder Boy,” Clark said with relish, his joy contrasting sharply with Tim’s anger and Cassandra’s anxiety, “would you rather stay here and chat with an old man like me, or go and save this city?”

Tim's hand froze in mid-air.

Cassandra then released him.

But in just a moment, Cassandra's fist slammed solidly into Clark's temple, sending the old man's head crashing against the car window.

"This is the answer!"

……

Beneath the Splendor Bridge pier, the Angel of Death pressed a piece of curtain torn from the control tower against the wound on his ribs. Wang Baixi stood beside him, his communication device connected to Tim's private channel.

"Tim, are you doing alright over there?"

Tim's voice came through the communicator, sounding somewhat tired: "We've gotten the details of the Owl Nest... As for Clark, we've got him under control, but the court will be taking notice soon, so we need to go back to the Batcave to discuss our strategy."

"We also have some bad news for you: the man who committed suicide is dead," the Angel of Death said into the communication channel, half-crouching.

"Damn..." Tim's voice dropped several decibels.

The Angel of Death's tone was calm: "But there's good news too. We've successfully persuaded the Penguin. Soon, we can prepare to infiltrate Blackgate Prison. No matter what nonsense that bastard spouts, as long as we find the owl's underground nest, we can rescue Dick."

There was a silence on the other end of the communication for several seconds.

"So, you two made a deal with the Penguin behind my back?"

"Correct."

"It's not a deal, it's a 'cooperation.' We 'persuaded' him. I already told you to rephrase it, so give in," Wang Baixi said jokingly.

"...Do you think this is feasible?"

He was about to find a way to infiltrate Blackgate Prison!

"That's feasible, but now is not the time to discuss this. You should check the news; Arkham is in trouble again."

"Yes, I heard the broadcast."

"So what do we do now?"

“…Of course, we should track down the most important fugitives first. I’ve called Huntress, you come with me too. As for Wang… let him go back to Wayne Manor. Gotham is too chaotic tonight, he’s not suited to wander around with us.”

The Angel of Death then asked Wang Baixi, "What do you think?"

Wang Baixi readily agreed, "I agree. I just contacted Mr. Pennyworth, and he said he would come to pick me up soon."

"Be extremely careful."

"Of course. You too, don't you need to go to the hospital to get it checked out?"

"No need, my 'system' can heal me." (The "system" here refers to an ancestral ability of the Angel of Death.)

Then, the figure of the Angel of Death disappeared into the shadow of the bridge pier.

About ten minutes later, Wang Baixi walked for a while and finally stood by a roadside. The traffic was not bustling at this time, as if what happened in Arkham was very far away from here.

Just then, someone patted him on the shoulder.

Wang Baixi turned his head and saw a white woman dressed in a punk style, with her hair almost shaved short on both sides.

"Are you waiting for a car, sir?" the other person asked him.

"Yes."

“I have a car here, and it’s on sale. We can leave right now. It’s not easy to get a taxi here, and you know how chaotic Gotham is.”

Upon hearing this, Wang Baixi recalled the scene from his university days when he was surrounded and chased by a group of touts after getting off the train.

But why does this happen in the United States too?

"No need, I've already booked a car." He waved his hand.

"Are you sure? I can give you a discount, it'll only cost thirty dollars."

You might as well just rob someone!

Wang Baixi was about to refuse again when he saw a familiar limousine suddenly turn out from the street corner and stop steadily in front of him.

Wang Baixi recognized that car; it was indeed the Penguin's car.

Chapter Thirty-Three: I'm Super, Ice

"Sir, this is my car. What do you think?"

Wang Baixi looked at the familiar limousine in front of him, then at the grinning woman, and immediately realized what was going on.

This woman is from the Penguin Gang.

He glanced at the other side of the road and saw Alfred's black sedan turning out from the corner.

The headlights on the front of the car were particularly eye-catching in the night.

Yes, Afu will be there soon.

However, if he chooses not to get on the bus, and the Penguins get angry and start a fight in the street, Alfred might get into trouble.

Moreover, he did have a very bold idea forming in his mind.

"That's a nice car. How about twenty dollars?" He gave the woman a standard smile, then opened the car door and got in.

The interior layout of the car was exactly the same as when he sat in it last time: two rows of genuine leather sofas were placed facing each other, with a low walnut table in the middle.

This time, however, the person sitting opposite him was not Oswald Copport, but a woman who was much fiercer than him.

Wang Baixi noticed that this woman was different from the two bodyguards he had knocked out last time. She didn't have the cheap tobacco smell of gangsters; instead, she had the aura of a warrior.

After the car door closed, the woman spoke first.

“Mr. Wang, my name is Lark, and I’m Mr. Cobblestone’s personal bodyguard. I wasn’t in Gotham yesterday, so I don’t know much about things. But that’s not important. I just want to know one thing: where is my boss?”

Wang Baixi didn't say anything, but silently touched the pocket of his coat, wanting to see if there were any tissues or something similar so he could use them to wipe his sweat and show that he was calm in the face of danger.

As a result, he inadvertently touched a protrusion in his pocket.

That penguin brooch.

He initially thought the thing might be useful, but unexpectedly, the Penguin Gang came to him.

Is there any connection between the two?

This can't just be penguin merchandise, right?

After thinking it over, Wang Baixi took the brooch out of his pocket and placed it on the low table.

"Black Gate Prison".

The moment Lark saw the brooch, a fleeting yet profoundly meaningful change occurred in his expression.

She was surprised.

Why the surprise? Because she recognized the brooch? Does this item have any special meaning within the Penguin Gang? Or is it a rare, discontinued piece of Penguin Gang merchandise?

"Where did you get this brooch?" Lark's tone was much more cautious than before.

“Mr. Coppert gave it to me,” Wang Baixi continued, his expression unchanged. “I’ve reached some kind of cooperation with him, and this is a small gift from him. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the prison and ask him yourself. He also has something to ask of me, and I need him to do something for me. As for what it is, you’re not qualified to ask at your level.”

“Is that so?” Lark sneered. “Sir, this brooch is no ordinary item. It’s the token of the Penguin Gang’s second-in-command. Whoever wears this brooch is the number two in the Penguin Gang. Its original owner was Ignatius Ogilvy, not Mr. Copperpott.”

Depend on.

Wang Baixi's smile remained unchanged, but he had already cursed several times in his heart.

Why would a caveman have a token belonging to the second-in-command of the Penguin Gang?

It seems that the guy named Ogilvy wasn't just killed by claws; there must be some connection between him and Bane.

But that's something Tim needs to consider.

“That’s right.” Wang Baixi leaned back on the sofa and casually crossed his legs. “Ogilvy is dead, which means Mr. Copeport is now short of a trustworthy second-in-command. That’s why he gave me this brooch.”

This is the most important lesson Wang Baixi learned in his campus life: no matter what question the teacher asks you, as long as you speak loud enough and your expression is firm enough, you can get away with a third of the questions.

For the remaining two-thirds, just work hard and leave the rest to luck.

Lark stared at the brooch on the low table for a moment, then turned his gaze back to Wang Baixi's face.

“You injured several of our men today and personally sent Mr. Cobblestone to jail. Why should I believe you?”

"First of all, it wasn't me who wanted to put him in jail; he turned himself in voluntarily. Secondly, I didn't injure your colleague; it was my friend who injured him, and my friend and I are not the same person."

"How could my boss possibly turn himself in?"