Chapter 20 Chapter 20 I almost thought he forgot before leaving get off work...
Elliot Smith, a month ago, was just another ordinary college student in Blüdhaven. But after the fire and waves shot up from the southeastern island of Blüdhaven that night, he was no longer.
The five million offered by the Templars was far from enough to put him at the top of the wanted list, but it was enough for everyone to notice the name and consciously or unconsciously remember the face in the portrait. It was the face of a young man in his twenties, with clear contours, a high nose bridge, and sharp eyes. A scar running from the bridge of his nose to under his left eyelid made it easily recognizable.
But another secretly taken photo circulated more widely.
In the lobby of the Continental Hotel, the walking Five Million was held by another assassin's shoulder, and he was clearly trying to adjust to the latter's height. Their heads were touching, as if whispering something, as they walked side by side.
After Hydra's failed attempt to break into Gotham, they raised the bounty on Elio, doubling the price for anyone who dared to murder the assassin at the Continental.
However, few assassins took on the contract. On the one hand, they knew the Continental Hotel would hunt them down to the ends of the earth, and even assassins didn't want to risk their lives for the job; on the other hand, they recognized the other person in the candid photo.
One of the notorious Tristan brothers, Alvin, noticed the cameraman and didn't waste any words trying to stop him from filming, just a warning look from afar.
And with this quickly circulated photo, he clearly sent a message.
——Anyone who wants to get the five million must go through his defense.
It’s not that no one took a risk, but without exception, all of them were thrown out of the room by the assassins and “cleaned up” by the conscientious hotel cleaning staff.
In light of the bloody precedent, the killer staying at the mainland hotel chose to lie dormant.
After all, he couldn't possibly live in the hotel forever.
If Elio knew what they were thinking, he'd probably agree. He certainly didn't lock himself up in the hotel all the time. He would go out from time to time, but to be precise, he didn't go out through the door.
Under the cover of night in Bludhaven, the assassin leaped from the top terrace of the Continental Hotel.
Elio had a clear goal, but he encountered many obstacles along the way. Besides the killers who appeared from time to time, there were also some citizens who screamed for help. Elio was thus tripped up and jumped from the low roof with an expressionless face, stepping heavily on the criminals of the night.
"Thank you, assassin!" The citizen fled in panic, leaving behind a sentence, "I will tell others about this!"
Elio lifted his feet from the foaming criminal. He was about to climb back up to the roof and leave when he heard a familiar whistle overhead.
"I was wondering who the new guy they were talking about was," Nightwing crouched on the streetlight, "it turns out to be you."
The vigilante landed lightly after a few somersaults. The warm night breeze he brought brushed the assassin's cheek, and the latter smiled under his hood.
"I'm not trying to take your job, Nightwing," Elio said, half joking, half serious, "but I'm finding it hard to ignore those voices."
"I understand, Assassin." Nightwing squeezed his shoulder carefully. "Have you recovered from your injuries?"
"It's gotten to the point where Alvin kicked me out of the house," Elio said. "He took my Assassin's Creed cartridge without any hesitation, but I feel—"
A killer suddenly jumped down from the roof, heading straight for Elio. Nightwing, startled, leaped to his feet, while the assassin in front of him calmly drew his Hidden Blade, completing his twelfth counterattack of the night.
"—just because he wants to play." Elio drew his hidden blade and pushed away the killer who fell on him.
"Did an assassination just happen in front of us?" Nightwing confirmed in disbelief.
"Yeah, that's right."
Elio shook off his blood-stained Hidden Blade, then squatted down expertly and felt the killer's pockets. Nightwing leaned closer, noticing the killer's chest still rising and falling slightly. His gaze shifted to Elio's face. The hooded assassin, perhaps misunderstood, opened his palms.
"Half?" Elio asked.
Nightwing hesitated to speak. He unceremoniously accepted the spoils and called the police. "Sorry, night shift colleagues," he thought silently, "but we might be sending in a dozen international wanted criminals tonight."
By the time the patrol car arrived, they had already moved to the roof.
"Alvin told me you were wanted," Nightwing said, "but I didn't realize it was this serious."
As they were moving, another assassin appeared. The startled Nightwing screamed and instinctively punched him; the assassin luckily missed the assassin's hidden blade and fell asleep on the spot. If Nightwing hadn't reacted and pulled him away in time, the assassin might have rolled off the roof and onto the ground.
"He said the Templars invested hundreds of millions in that project," Elio said. "Taking a five-million-dollar bounty on me is just a waste of money."
Nightwing was silent for three seconds, but Elio immediately spoke out his thoughts.
"Damn rich people," Elio deadpanned.
Nightwing nodded in agreement. The two apprentices, whose mentors were well-off but whose own were struggling, exchanged a sympathetic glance and changed the subject.
"I'm going to the Abstergo Hospital," Elio invited. "Want to come with me?"
"To cause some trouble for the Templars?" Nightwing smiled. "I really can't find any reason to refuse such an attractive offer."
As they moved forward, they prevented an ATM vandalism case, two robberies, and anonymously sent three internationally wanted criminals to the police station. Finally, they arrived at a hospital just a few hundred meters away.
"I was just about to ask," Nightwing opened the skylight, "Are you Shay's descendant?"
"...No," Elio followed him into the ventilation duct, "at least there's no evidence to suggest so at the moment—don't laugh, I know you're just joking, but Alvin thinks I'm a descendant of Arno."
Elio knew why Nightwing said that. He'd been scared to death by the endless stream of assassins playing Shay's game, Rogue, and he had reason to believe there was a reason Alvin hadn't warned him about that.
Because when Elio dropped the controller in fright, Alvin, who was sitting next to him, burst into laughter, which sounded long-awaited.
Nightwing's snickering paused, then returned thoughtfully, "Oh, you've played those games. Remember to send me the friend code when you get back, and we can play online when we have time."
Elio reasonably suspected that the Brotherhood was establishing relations with superheroes from all over the world through games. It's just that everyone loves playing games.
Including himself.
"That's great," Elio said sincerely. "We were worried about not being able to get four people to play Unity online."
They tiptoed to a stop above the monitoring room. Nightwing looked up and smiled at him, then deftly removed the lid. What happened next was logical. Before the guards, who were watching TV on their tablets and eating pizza, could see them, the vigilante and the assassin slid down the duct behind them and strangled each of them.
"What a nice smell." Elio sniffed distractedly.
"We'll go get some fries later," Nightwing typed quickly on the keyboard for a while, "There's a McDonald's nearby—Okay! I've replaced it with a looping video, let's go."
The guards who woke up would only think they were asleep. Before leaving, the vigilantes and assassins had carefully positioned them, letting them rest their heads on the table with their arms as pillows. The next shift wouldn't start until dawn, giving them plenty of time for a good night's sleep.
Then the intruder swaggered out the door and into the fire escape next door.
"Where are we going?" Nightwing asked quietly.
"Top floor. Dean's office."
Elio displayed his masterful lockpicking skills. Without alerting anyone, they successfully entered the office and, in unison, began to split up. Nightwing walked behind the desk and activated Dean Neumann's computer. Elio, on the other hand, activated Hawkeye and scanned the office.
After examining the portraits on the wall (Joan of Arc holding the Sword of Eden high), the expensive and exquisite hardcover volume of "The Lord of the Rings" on the bookshelf (the bookmark was on the page where Gandalf loudly recited the spell of the Ring in Rivendell), Elio casually fiddled with the metal ball on the display shelf.
"The First Apple Eve Picked (One-to-One Replica)" reads the display stand.
While Elio's eyes were still fixed on the note, he suddenly caught a glint of light from the corner of his eye. He looked up in surprise at the golden apple he had touched.
"Did you see it?" he asked, turning around.
Nightwing looked up from the screen in confusion. Elio turned the golden apple again in front of him, this time with a little more force. They both heard the clacking of gears from the bookshelf.
When the imitation apple burst into bright light, the books on the top shelf moved away to the left and right, revealing a safe hidden in the middle.
"So it's a hidden mechanism," Nightwing breathed a sigh of relief, "I almost thought he forgot to take the golden apple away before leaving get off work."
"It's a shame he didn't do that."
Elio climbed up the ladder next to the bookshelf. Eagle Vision revealed several severely worn digital keys. Elio tried a combination at random, and the safe opened the door to him, along with the unspeakable secrets inside.
As Elio examined them, he finally understood why Abstergo was able to operate unimpeded in Blüdhaven. The incriminating evidence against high-ranking politicians and celebrities was securely stored within this small iron box, where a murky transaction was conducted, built on silent wailing and a sea of blood.
It turned out that he was just one of Abstergo's many victims.
He is lucky to have the ability to seek revenge, and his teachers, relatives and friends still standing by his side. But what about others?
The dirty money, the humiliated corpses, and the innocent suffering souls were twisted between the lines, making it almost impossible for him to read the words. Elio pinched the thin pages, trying his best to restrain the trembling of his fingers, but he couldn't control the flame of anger that burned in his chest.
The flames nearly burned away his sanity, driving him to set out immediately to kill the murderers pointed to by the evidence. But when he managed to calm down, his past education made him think of a better way - although, at this point, he was no longer sure whether seeking justice was still a "better way".
That would be a more troublesome solution, actually.
But Elio thought the victims and their families would like it.
Nightwing was still at his computer, poring over hidden files. The deeper he dug, the more serious his expression grew. He had uncovered shockingly detailed data records of experimental projects. It would likely solve some missing persons cases in Blüdhaven and the Gotham Police Department, but he wasn't happy at all.
The paper the assassin handed to him suddenly obscured his vision. Nightwing raised his head. The assassin's eyes were covered by his hood, and his expression was unclear.
"Do you know any police officers you can trust?" Elio asked.
Nightwing's gaze shifted from the scar on Elio's nose down to the level of the incriminating evidence. He saw the evidence, too. He immediately understood Elio's thoughts and gave him a long look.
"I know him." Nightwing said.
He placed his fingers on the papers. The assassin didn't let go, his hooded eyes fixed on the vigilante. "How trustworthy?"
"You can trust him as much as you trust me," Nightwing replied solemnly, "I promise you that he will never let these evidences return to the dark, no matter what the price."
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