Day 8 of clearing customs
A faceless, muscular man clad in full-body ice-blue armor appeared and disappeared amidst the white mist, like a ghost or a phantom, astonishing how a body weighing over 200 pounds could be so agile.
Some were astonished by the Arkham Knights' extraordinary fighting prowess, while many more endured their brutal attacks. Obstructed vision exacerbated their inner panic; no matter how wicked they had been in the past, they now resembled vulnerable and helpless babies.
As time passed, the gray-white smoke in the center of the battlefield thinned, and the wails of the fallen bandits became fewer, filled with an ominous atmosphere.
If an ordinary person, defined by worldly standards, were here, upon witnessing this scene, they would surely scream and pray that someone would take them away from this place, no matter who it was.
Sometimes quiet is more dangerous than riots; it may well be the final stage after everything is over.
Given the Arkham Knights' swift movements, it was already quite remarkable that they were able to keep hiders like Adrian completely concealed behind them.
Adrian remained motionless with his eyes lowered. After training his body to a certain level, even staring was a form of exposure. He had failed many times and still dared not openly stare at the Arkham Knight.
Below, a pile of unspeakable objects lay, and the survivors were still gloating. Outsiders are just different; they figured none of the other side would survive this, and the survivors would make pure profit.
After muttering their complaints, some cautious locals simply headbutted themselves until they were unconscious. Both methods carried the same risk, since some thugs liked to use their guns to satisfy some unspeakable fetish. In today's world, nothing is surprising, and anything can happen. The robbers who didn't knock themselves unconscious habitually prayed to the Virgin Mary and Jesus, calling out all the named deities.
I pray I don't encounter any mentally ill people with strange quirks.
But this time, good luck didn't come his way; the crisp sound of bones cracking made him groan involuntarily.
"Oh, one more thing, brother, go and say hello to God," the Arkham Knight said indifferently as he changed and repaired his gun. The same old Gotham man, no wonder he'd spent so much time stepping on 'corpses'.
Gotham People, God—anyone who hears this will laugh; it's a wonderful combination.
Even as he was being trampled, the robber was still resentfully thinking, "Why is it so heavy? Is this weight a monster? Is it Batman reincarnated?"
Anyone, excluding their own weight, can be so heavy that they'd vomit just from the weight of their armor. If you don't believe me, just look at Batman.
*
The fleeing robbers were chased by the Arkham Knights, howling and screaming, until finally they all fell down one by one, and the noise barely stopped.
Two minutes? Maybe three minutes. When he saw another NPC being knocked down and never getting up again, Adrian couldn't help but take two steps back. He had tried it. A punch hurts, but a gun is deadly. The immersive experience of the game has its drawbacks. Getting a headshot with a gun is an epic trauma. Adrian regretted not secretly increasing the pain level. Forgive him, he had never been hit before, so he didn't know how unbearable the pain was.
Adrian crouches in a blind spot in Arkham Knight's view, feigning death; the predetermined ending inspires dread.
He needs to take it slow.
The dust, the suspiciously colored ground, and the rusty smell in the air, along with a pile of limp, collapsed, strip-shaped objects, were so familiar that they made him feel as if he had returned to hell.
It's really unpleasant.
What's even more infuriating is that there are even fearless little bugs.
The Arkham Knight stood in the middle of the open space, his head slightly tilted. The tall, armored warrior only narrowed his electronic compound eyes in a human-like manner to indicate that he was still thinking. Intuition told the Arkham Knight that there was another person present, not the child sneaking away to rescue the hostages, but a real adult.
The absence of a heartbeat and body temperature might be what makes him extraordinary compared to others. The Arkham Knight never doubts his own judgment. In this strange and dangerous world, it's better to listen to your heart than to trust your eyes, even if the monitoring instruments tell you there's no one there.
Is it a new type of shielding device, or a non-natural property?
These things are meaningless; he'll just arrest the person.
The Arkham Knight gripped his gun and strode away.
From Adrian's perspective, the blue knight paused for a few seconds and then seemed to leave the scene of the crime, ending his actions for the night. However, Adrian did not react when the knight left, or rather, he could not react.
So many times we failed, so many times we were tricked. We couldn't move forward from our hiding place, nor could we retreat from the chemical plant and abandon the critical events.
He was about to develop PTSD. Adrian stayed quietly in place, having experimented with this option many times before finally deciding on the best course of action: play dead and then react correctly.
If Adrian hadn't deliberately gone looking for death, the Arkham Knights naturally wouldn't have killed a suspicious innocent person. The chaotic but lawless gang leader wouldn't be so arbitrary, especially since he didn't see any particularly vicious characteristics in the voyeur, not even the kind of person he could punch into the hospital.
Too hard and it could cause medical accidents, so the Arkham Knight picked up the young man who was sneaking around peeking from the side with one hand.
The drab, cheap, and dirty coat, combined with the act of peeping, made him no different from a sewer rat—both were equally shameful and couldn't be brought into the light.
The Arkham Knights made their judgments with little emotion.
The young man, suddenly grabbed by the back of the neck, flinched, seemingly still caught up in the scene of being spied on, and was startled by the Arkham Knight.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, please forgive me, I took the wrong path," Adrian explained frantically, clutching his chest, his heart pounding as if it didn't belong to him.
"Who are you?"
Feeling the tightening pressure on his neck, Adrian couldn't help but sigh. What a stupid question. What was the point of asking this? The process was tedious and boring, but there was no way to skip it. Next, he was supposed to ask him why he came to the factory and what his purpose was. If he didn't answer well, it would be game over.
"I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to find a place to rest. I didn't know anything, I didn't see anything. I have elderly parents and young children to take care of. Please forgive me."
Large tears welled up in his gray eyes. The weak and helpless young man seemed to regret his decision to rest at such a crime scene.
The Arkham Knight gave a cold sneer, his icy, mechanical electronic voice saying ruthlessly, "Outsider, go back to where you came from."
The Arkham Knight, losing interest, prepared to knock out the gray-eyed youth. What was the point of wasting time talking to him? He wouldn't get any information from him; at most, he was just an innocent spy. The fact that he hadn't been able to find his trail must be his own secret.
Why did an outsider with such useless abilities come to Gotham? It's none of my business. The Arkham Knight waved the young man away; he had many other things to do.
Adrian was getting a headache from the increasingly menacing Arkham Knight. His next move was to knock him unconscious and send him to face endless GCPD interrogations. This crucial event had been turned gray, becoming an irreversible scenario, and a key piece was missing from the puzzle of future major events...
Thinking about how Adrian was suffocating, he knew he couldn't let him knock him out.
It's not shameful to slide on your knees when you only have one chance; it's a strategic adjustment plan.
More importantly, the Arkham Knight is a key figure in faction wars. Isn't it normal for him to slide to his knees in anger? The first thing a junior officer does when evaluating his boss is to learn to bow down and join the boss's faction.
When the Arkham Knight was grabbed by the leg, a big question mark appeared in his mind. The person he had kicked away rolled on the ground twice as if nothing had happened. How could he be able to grab his leg? Was he too careless, or did he have a secret he was hiding?
"Red Hood, please accept me as your disciple. If you don't, you probably don't want people to know what happened today, right?"
The deafening threat shattered the Arkham Knight's thoughts.
Don't want people to know what happened today?
What's going on today?
Who is he afraid of finding out?
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