121 Lincoln March Branch: Justice Breaking Fist

With Superman present, it wouldn't be easy to take Aria away from him, but perhaps he could use a roundabout method...

Tim Drake was trying hard to think of a solution, but Superman seemed to hear something - he raised his head and looked at the distant sky.

"Something's wrong." The Kryptonian said, frowning slightly. "What is Lex Luthor up to?"

…

Arkham Asylum.

Apart from the occasional shrill laughter of the clown that penetrates the soundproof panels and the complaints of nearby prisoners, it is almost silent most of the time.

Darkness multiplied silently in the cell like mycelium. In such an environment, Lincoln March chewed on his own failures and, by the way, chewed on the bones and blood of his enemies in his fantasy.

The only exception is when Batman arrives.

The sound of heavy boots is always eye-catching in such occasions. All the prisoners in Arkham stretched their necks like hyenas smelling blood and cursed Batman through the only window that could see the outside world.

All kinds of obscenities turned into sharp arrows and hit his cloak, but the person concerned did not react at all, and those attacks were just words.

Lincoln March knew his footsteps. Many years ago, he regarded Bruce Wayne as a target - a target that he needed to chase hard until he tore a piece of flesh from him.

But today's steps were different. Was it because of injury? Or was it because of some new equipment that he didn't know about?

Lincoln March pretended to be calm, suppressing the restlessness flowing in his blood. He waited until Batman walked all the way to his door before he spoke: "I thought you wouldn't come."

"Has the farmer caused you some trouble again? Or are you still trying to pry the Court's overseas base from me?" Lincoln March, reciting his prepared remarks as he wished, looked more energetic than any other prisoner in Arkham. "You want me to help you? I still have my terms."

"Lincoln March." Batman read the name carved on his cell, and the man's defiant expression froze on his face.

"You're not Batman," Lincoln March said, gripping the prison bars as if he were watching the flag that never fell being shot down by a bullet. "You're not Clayface either... You and Batman always have an arrogance that he can never imitate."

"—Who are you?"

Batman let out a short sigh.

"I originally thought you had the abilities to match this title. Now it seems it was just a trick of fate, a coincidence."

Batman laughed, which made his disguise disappear. But it didn't matter, he had figured out the structure of Arkham Asylum.

"But at least this trip has an extra bonus," Batman paused. "To thank you for bringing me the news about the leafcutter bee, let me introduce myself."

'Batman' turns off his holographic disguise, revealing his true appearance. Rather than a bat, he looks more like an owl that hides the darkness and rips open the stomachs of mice.

With a "click", all of Arkham's complicated electronic locks failed, and the criminals rushed out of the cage in celebration. In such extreme noise, only Lincoln March and Thomas Wayne Jr. stood facing each other.

When two nocturnal animals meet, their false and questionable blood relationship seems unimportant at this moment.

"Night Owl—of course, the best of all universes."

"Get ready for a day of revelry," said Night Owl. "This is sponsored by the Crime Syndicate."

…

Aria didn't know who Lex Luthor was, but she was familiar with Clark's expression - who would have thought that the omnipotent Superman would frown when faced with difficult problems?

Clark looked guilty: "The next mission may be very dangerous. Sorry, Xiaoya, I can't take you with me."

The farmer touched his hand gently, the touch between friends always makes people feel at ease.

"Don't worry about me, Superman. Go check on the other people who need help!" As if to prove that she was fine, Aria turned around in front of him. "I'm super strong now. I even feel more alert than before!"

"Then you really should get a physical checkup," Tim Drake said, successfully making Aria silently move further away and simply run over to chat quietly with Kara.

The red cape swayed gently in the wind. "No matter what, I'll get you back to Gotham safely."

This seemed to be the only thing Superman could do for his friends right now, and he wanted to ensure their safety before confronting Lex Luthor.

However, Red Robin adjusted the data screen and rejected the offer without even looking up: "No need, Batwing is on the way."

A rather Gotham-style rejection, but it's not very lethal to the Kryptonians.

Red Robin sighed secretly and finally looked up: "If Aria agrees, I will send you a copy of the analysis report later."

This was the biggest concession Gotham could make. Superman understood the hidden meaning—those truly crucial space-time coordinates, those details that could reveal the weaknesses of the parallel universe, would always be locked behind the deepest firewall of the Batcomputer.

"Thanks."

The two exchanged a knowing glance. As the roar of the Batwing pierced the clouds, Red Robin heard a final reminder from behind him: "By the way, remember to prepare a cup of hot cocoa for her when you check on her."

Clark Kent lowered his voice to ensure that their conversation would not be heard by the parties involved: "I don't know why, but I feel that... Xiaoya is actually afraid of those instruments."

…Ah, this overly obvious Kryptonian possessiveness is almost overflowing.

…

Red Robin soon paid the price for his hasty decision.

If Tim Drake had ever owned a dog, he'd know one thing: anything is possible from the moment he takes his dog to the vet until the poor little creature is shaky on the exam table.

This accident may come from outside or from the dog's free will.

And when coincidences happen and two accidents collide, things become... quite terrifying.

Tim Drake felt something was wrong.

Gotham looks completely different during the day and at night. He thought that, at least during the day, the lady would appear relatively elegant and calm.

Instead of what was happening now—a dozen gang members surrounding the newly landed Batwing, trying to outnumber Red Robin.

Oracle: "Red Robin, the communication channel has been severely damaged. I have to temporarily create a new one..."

"Batman visited Arkham an hour ago, and then all the systems inside crashed. I'm trying to get in touch with him."

Red Robin's breathing hitched, and almost instinctively, a plan came to his mind: "I-"

"Scream, you little hooligans!" The farmer opened the hatch and rushed out, brandishing the purple sword that was too fancy for a weapon, and whipping the enemies like driving pigs into a pen.

"Red Robin," Aria's voice suddenly rose despite the fact that it was easy to deal with this group of thugs. Perhaps the farmer never realized how exaggerated her acting was. "They...they are too powerful! I, I can't defeat them even if I try my best!"

Several thugs who were beaten to the ground groaned, and one of them raised a trembling hand to accuse: "You..."

The unlucky guy was immediately kicked up by the farmer and chased by Aria, disappearing around the corner in a flash.

Oracle: "Red Robin?"

Red Robin: ...

It was a mistake. He had completely underestimated the farmer's fear of physical examinations. Even if he had caught up with her, she would obviously have escaped in some other way.

Tim Drake retracted his grappling hook and calmly pressed the communication button: "It's okay, Oracle, let's confirm B's location first."

Also, Red Robin is really considering studying canine behavior.

…

Aria taught the thug a lesson in the warehouse district.

"Please, please stop chasing me!" The gangster collapsed on the ground, only having the strength to hold her legs and cry: "I only do things for money, and no one said I would have to suffer this kind of torture!"

The farmer lifted his chin with the tip of his sword. "Who paid?"

"I."

Lincoln March appeared behind her with a half-broken owl mask. To the farmer's shock, he took off the mask, revealing his blue eyes.

The gangster tactfully slipped away from the side path. Lincoln March leaned over slightly with a familiar intimacy. Aria could even smell the perfume on his body, mixed with the smell of blood, metal and formaldehyde.

She thought he had something to whisper.

But the farmer only waited until Lincoln March breathed, the warm breath spraying on the ear and neck skin. Then, he lowered his head and gently touched the slightly messy hair by her ear with his cold lips.

"This is the first time we've met today, Miss Aria."

Aria used all her strength to pull the green bar with her fishing rod and hit Lincoln March hard on the chin!

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Reading order of sub-lines: main text + each sub-line

Try a new flavor at Lincoln March Line

In addition, the author knows that Ball Three Night Owl and this Night Owl are not the same person, he just wants to take him out to play ()

The lottery failed due to a setting problem. The next lottery seems to be in thirty days. I might as well send out red envelopes. Please give more comments ww