Chapter 14 Chapter 14 Have you seen the bat?

"You what?"

In Elio's surprised eyes, Alvin chuckled. When the apprentice reacted, the joking mentor had already put an arm on his shoulder and moved closer, his movements as familiar as if he had done it countless times.

"What do you think is the difference between a created assassin and other assassins?" Alvin asked, looking into his eyes.

"...I don't know. Abilities? Or bloodline?" Elio replied hesitantly. "You said we have Isu genes flowing through our veins."

"I did say that," Alvin said, "but I didn't tell you then that only a few assassins possess Isu blood. The majority of assassins are like the people you pass by on the street, without any special abilities—sure, they can kill, sneak, hide, and some can even hack, but those skills are the result of their own learning, the result of their years of training."

Elio understood Alvin's intention in setting the stage, "So..."

"The Brotherhood doesn't believe in bloodlines," Alvin said. "We welcome all like-minded brothers and sisters and treat them equally. No matter what their backgrounds are, we won't delve too much into them. After all, we are a secret organization that advocates freedom—"

"That's quite freeing," Elio couldn't help but say.

"—Don't interrupt, newbie—as long as members don't violate the three basic rules." Alvin held up three fingers. "Although you haven't officially joined us yet, I have to make it clear to you in advance. First, no killing of innocent people. Second, be careful to conceal your tracks. Third, never endanger the alliance. Do you understand?"

This sounded simple, even shorter than the software's terms of use. Elio thought about it for a moment, then nodded without a second thought, like every user who had to use this software.

"Very good." Alvin winked at him. "I know young people your age don't like to be lectured, so to cut a long story short, let me finish the last part. At least for me, I don't think there's any difference between a crafted assassin and any other assassin. Having Isu blood is no different either. Although this talent is like a golden card given to you before the start of the game, no matter how much convenience it brings you, it's just a card."

Elio looked at him.

"It's just a card," Alvin said, "and you are the one holding it. I will teach you how to use it to your best advantage—but that's all. You have to choose your own path."

The mentor removed his hand and patted Elio's chest. The apprentice, still bewildered, was slapped and leaned back, like every adventurer at the beginning of the game, revealing an expression of complete ignorance of the future.

"Back to the topic," Alvin said, turning his back and picking up his pen again. "If you're worried about whether you're a manufactured experiment, or if you're whimsically suspecting your past life and memories are fabricated, I urge you to focus on the real thing. At least for now, the manufactured assassin appears to be lucid and capable, though his life was short-lived."

"How short is a little shorter?" Elio grasped the key point.

"Never mind." Alvin flicked Elio's forehead. "We Assassins die early. The enemy always arrives before death. You don't want to be captured by the Templars and taken to the lab before you even meet Death, do you?"

Elio touched his forehead, which was red from being sprayed, and wanted to ask more questions (he really cared about how short his life was, just like every normal person!), but Alvin obviously also wanted to avoid the topic and quickly shifted the subject to the subsequent tracking target.

Before Elio could think of a way to ask further questions—in fact, his attention was quickly diverted by Alvin—the assassin received a call. He answered it a few times, hung up, and looked at Elio.

"Pick it up," he said. "We have work to do."

The call came from a thug in Little Quinn's gang. This time, it was his turn to participate in the human trafficking operation. He had finally managed to slip out under the pretext of going to the restroom and was anxiously pacing around, waiting for the assassins to arrive. His leader urged him twice, but before he could get impatient, the thug finally waited for the assassins to arrive.

"I'll find a way to distract them," he said, his voice speeding up nervously, stumbling over his words, "you guys take this opportunity to sneak in."

"It's me," Elio said. "Not us."

On their way here, a minor argument arose between the apprentice and their mentor regarding the next course of action. Ultimately, however, the elder yielded, though it was unclear how much of this was due to his own reckless behavior in his youth. Consequently, although Alvin glanced disapprovingly at Elio, he didn't utter a word of rebuttal.

"Okay, I don't care," the thug glanced nervously back and forth between them. "Hold on tight. And that thing..." He lowered his voice, as if discussing a secret. It was Elio's turn to be a little confused, but he kept silent.

"I haven't told anyone," Alvin, who was squatting beside him, replied. "As long as you take care of this, I'm happy to keep your friends in the dark. It's better for all of us, right?"

The gangster looked at him deeply and said, "Yes, yes."

He turned and walked away. Elio turned to look at Alvin.

"If you want someone to do something for you," the assassin patted his shoulder, "the easiest way is to get something on him. Don't thank me, just follow me."

The gangster returned to his companions. His face was not very good, and he even got a little angry when he was teased, so he hit his friend.

"How much did you take?" His friend didn't get angry. Instead, he put his arm around his shoulder and asked, "If you have any good stuff, share some with me. Don't hide it."

Before he could answer, their leader got angry.

"What are you talking about?!" he yelled. "Aren't you afraid of delaying business? Have you met the last person who blew the deal? Hmm? You want to experience the boss's wrath too?"

The scolded Black Gang members all lowered their heads like quails. The leader glanced around with satisfaction, then frowned. Only the thug who had just returned stared blankly at the rooftop in the other direction.

"What are you looking at?" the chief asked kindly.

"It seems like... a shadow flew past." The gangster said tremblingly.

"Shadow?" they couldn't help but whisper. "Could it be a cloak?"

The leader had to shout for silence to suppress their doubts. But he couldn't help but feel the same doubts in his heart. He rolled his eyes and pointed at the member who spoke. "You, go over and take a look."

"I?"

"Hurry up and go!"

The member was clearly reluctant, but under the leader's glare, he moved forward step by step. The remaining members stared in that direction, no one paying attention to what was behind them. Elio landed silently on the ground and approached the truck.

Everyone held their breath.

The leader suddenly turned his head thoughtfully. Elio immediately dodged into the shadow of the truck's side, his back pressed against the tire.

"You, follow." The leader pointed to another person.

The second member, not daring to protest, also moved toward the corner. Alvin touched his chin on the wall and lightly leaped over it. He reached into his windbreaker and activated his Hawkeye. Then, he abruptly stopped.

A familiar shadow crouched behind the air conditioner, two sharp horns protruding from its top. The assassin was all too familiar with this scene.

"…Wow, what a coincidence," Alvin said dryly.

Batman slowly turned to look at him.

"What a coincidence." He said hoarsely, "What are you doing?"

Elio still didn't know what was happening on the rooftop. He was waiting for a signal. Two Black Gang members walked to the corner, one behind the other, and looked around, but saw nothing.

"Nothing." Someone muttered.

"I really saw it just now." Another person wiped the sweat off his forehead. What happened? Didn't we agree on this?

But the next second, a small, round object fell from the roof. Smoke dispersed, and they screamed; the familiar banging sound was there, and Gotham's horror legend was looming in the smoke.

"It's Batman!" someone yelled.

The gang members immediately fell into chaos. Elio seized the opportunity to get into the car, kicked out a lucky guy at random, and then grabbed an arm to cover himself under the other unconscious people.

"Hurry up!" the leader yelled, "If we get caught, the boss will skin us all!"

The driver hurried off, thankful he wouldn't be left to face the caped monsters. He drove around the city a few times, following his backup plan. His passenger, equally panicked, actually asked him, the driver, "Have you seen Batman?"

“How should I know?!” the driver retorted, “I was busy driving!”

The companion realized he had spoken out of turn and stuck his head out the window to look up for a long time. "I think we've lost him."

"Is this true?" The driver stepped on the pedal and ran another red light. "Are you sure?"

“…I’d better take a look.”

The driver cursed and turned on the communication.

"Boss," he said stubbornly, "we've been discovered."

When Quinn realized they'd only seen a puff of smoke, he scolded them harshly for their lack of ambition, but urged them to shake off their tail before coming back. After hanging up, the driver muttered to his companions, "Who does he think he is? If only Batman had beaten him up! He'd probably be so weak at the sight of that puff of smoke that he wouldn't even be able to run!"

"Have you been beaten by Batman?" asked the companion while observing the sky.

"Sure, I broke a couple of ribs," the driver said, "but let me tell you, lightning never strikes the same place twice—have you seen Batman?"

"I think we got rid of him," his companion retracted his head happily, "Haha! Batman is no more than that."

The driver agreed proudly, but to be cautious, he made two more turns. In this way, they happily led the assassin and Batman to Little Quinn's lair.

"Your name is quite useful," the assassin said. He opened the ventilation duct and got in first.

"Same here."

Batman followed him. They crawled through a section of pipe and came to the horizontal rack above the warehouse. Here the driver "unloaded" the goods. Little Quinn watched them load the unconscious people into the cabin one by one and waved.

"Are you sure Batman isn't following us?" he asked.

"Don't worry, boss," the driver patted his chest, "if he caught up with us, we wouldn't be able to stand here now!"

Little Quinn stared at him expressionlessly. The driver's companion, about to pull him back, silently stepped aside. Sensing the atmosphere was off, the driver scratched his head, about to say something to make amends, but Little Quinn suddenly laughed.

"I can't stand here! Haha," Little Quinn turned around, as if sharing a joke with his men, "Batman, right? That's funny."

The driver laughed too. Little Quinn laughed with him and even clapped him on the shoulder.

No one else laughed. A dead silence fell over them.

As they watched in silence, Little Quinn suddenly lost his temper, grabbed his cane, and struck the driver in the abdomen, even stomping on him several times after he fell to the ground. It wasn't until the driver began to breathe more than he breathed that Little Quinn turned around angrily, casually handed his cane to the men beside him, and straightened his clothes.

"I know some of you are afraid of that monster in the dark," Little Quinn looked around, "but in my opinion, he's just a coward. He appears and scares people everywhere, but he's never killed anyone!"

Batman, crouching on the crossbar, watched him.

"And I will actually kill you," Little Quinn declared, "and make your life worse than death. So stop being afraid of him. The one you should really be afraid of is me."

"Yes, boss." They responded sparsely.

"Actually, I can kill people too," the assassin commented.

"Better not," Batman said.

Their voices were drowned out by the sound of the speedboat's engine breaking through the water.

"This kid really doesn't know his place." The assassin on the crossbar stretched his body slightly. "If you want to break a few more of his bones, I won't say anything."

"I won't," Batman said, his eyes following the speedboat.

The assassin glanced at him and asked, "Are you really not angry?"

Batman, who was just opening his arm armor and sending the message, replied without looking up, "Are you angry?"

The assassin took a deep breath.

"Yes, I'm angry," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "I'm going to break a few more of his bones later. You can't stop me."

Batman's lips, tightly pursed beneath his visor, suddenly lifted. It was a quick, subtle smile, but the assassin didn't miss it.

"I won't." Batman said again.

The assassin laughed silently. He took a few steps on the crossbar and quickly circled over Little Quinn's head. The Black Gang leader, who knew nothing about this, was boasting to his men about his legendary escape from Chicago. The assassin turned around and glanced at Batman, who had already put away his arm guards and nodded affirmatively.

The assassin didn't hesitate. As he dove down to hit little Quinn, Batman also dove down.

"It's Batman!!" "And the assassin!!!"

Screams echoed throughout the warehouse.

On the speedboat that had just sailed out, the Black Gang members who heard the noise turned around in shock.

"Faster! Faster!" he yelled. "Batman is behind us! Run while he's beating Quinn up!"

The author has something to say:

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The writing is very slow, please comment and interact TT I must start the next book directly as a max-level assassin...