American Comics: The Force Awakens

Near the toy factory, there was an underground base of the original Black Mask.

Lincoln March sat silently on the chair. It was the end of November. An ordinary stronghold would obviously not turn on air conditioning for you, but he was naked from the waist up.

But considering that he had just endured the explosion of his own bomb, he probably wouldn't feel cold for the time being.

Moreover, the various wounds on his body are healing to a degree visible to the naked eye.

Therefore, everyone else present was more concerned about the damaged owl armor than his safety.

"As we all know, Batman is at his weakest during encounters." Carl said sarcastically on the sidelines, "When we first meet and fight, any third-tier villain can hang the bat up and whip him, except you."

"Actually, based on the first fight, you didn't win either." Poison Ivy said suddenly. "I just watched you being lifted up by the collar by a bat some time ago."

So Karl blushed and argued, "Pretending to lose doesn't count as a loss. Can the conspirator's thing count as a loss?" Then there were some incomprehensible words, "It's all the fault of the author", "The combat effectiveness was too high" Slowly" and the like caused everyone to burst into laughter, and the air inside and outside the stronghold was filled with joy.

But compared to joking, everyone is still more concerned about tonight's harvest-the Bat Universal Belt.

Everyone wants to know how many strange things Batman has in his belt, just like everyone wants to go into the pockets of the fat blue guy without ears, and today is a good opportunity.

A product produced by Bat must be a high-quality product. This can be seen from the fact that this belt can still protect the contents intact in explosions and fires.

"Herbicide, shark repellent spray, freezing grenade." Karl put the things he took out on the table and counted them. "This is probably the clown serum. I guess it has not been tested on humans? Ah, the antidote to fear gas and fear With the poison gas put together, Batman seems to have some disrespect for patent laws, don't you think, Dr. Crane."

The Scarecrow silently took away the antidote to the fear gas. He didn't care much about others copying the formula of the fear gas. This would allow everyone to breathe, and he could always develop a better one, but the formula for the antidote cost tens of millions. It cannot be spread.

Plastic bombs, sonic weapons, electric shock devices, everyone was satisfied after they were knocked over.

"Remember to put things back after studying them." At the end, Karl added an instruction as if he just remembered it, "This belt is still useful. A bald muscular man with a bright head will be very happy. We can do something with him." A business deal.”

"And he's coming up next."

"So what are we going to do next?" Lincoln stood up. He had completed physical recovery and the wounds on his body had basically disappeared.He walked forward and looked at the bat belt thoughtfully.

"Wait," Carl replied. "You can go back to the courthouse and be your good baby for now until Batman shows up there and you can do whatever you want to him."

"How do you know he's going to find the court, he didn't succeed last time."

"Because he's a smart guy and we left him clues."

"If he's empathetic enough, he can get a guide."

............

Wayne Manor, Batcave.

"It sounds like you didn't have a very smooth night, Master Bruce." Alfred was dressing Batman's wounds. "Of course, I can tell it directly even if you don't tell me."

"That's not the point, Alfred. The point is that tonight, another Gotham legend came to life - a legend that I didn't find out the truth in the past. And they almost just told me they were mine. Enemy."

Whether it was the owl dagger that killed Jillian, or the Scarecrow's deliberate guidance, including the subsequent appearance of the owl-cloaked man, there was someone behind it screaming, go find out the truth, that's what you should do.

"But I don't know the real purpose of the people behind them."

"Rather than this, I care more about that weird owl you mentioned earlier who calls himself your brother."

"I don't have a living brother, Alfred. I believe my parents, if little Thomas did survive, they would tell me."

"......Yes, sir."

Alfred had no memory of this incident. At that time, the butler of Wayne Manor was still his father, Jarvis Pennyworth, and his father had always kept secret about this strange car accident.

Jarvis died a few weeks after the incident, the cause of his death being unknown.

"Speaking of owls, how much do you know about them?"

"Sir, you are the one who has repeatedly investigated the Court of Owls. And I only know some common sense."

"That may be true, but I need some perspective right now," Bruce replied.

“They are carnivores, masters of disguise – and in some species natural enemies of bats.”

"But when we talk about owls, we have to think of your great-grandfather Allen Wayne." Alfred said as if he had just remembered. "In the last period of his life, he had a period of severe insanity. He had a problem with owls. A special kind of obsessive-compulsive symptom.”

"He always thought the birds were going to attack him. My father told me that Alan Wayne even insisted on nailing all the windows, but he was soon plagued by another delusion - that they would attack everyone. nest in their homes.”

"I know about it, and it's one of the reasons I want to investigate the Court of Owls."

"But the cause of his death is clear - he fell into the Gotham sewers and drowned while surrounded by a group of police officers."

"Thank you, Alfred, the key is the sewer." Bruce suddenly realized something and started tapping on the keyboard.

"They were really reminding me."

On the screen, there was a surveillance video of Karl and his party entering the sewer a few months ago.

A few months ago, a group of unknown persons entered the sewer entrance where Allen Wayne died.A few months later, perhaps the same people showed him the existence of the Court of Owls.This can't be a coincidence.

But what about that weird owl? Are they a group? Or are there other reasons?

Who is the holiday killer? Who kills people?

Bruce stood up subconsciously, but the pain and weakness made him sit back down.

"Maybe there is no rush to find out the truth tonight, Master Bruce, here is some medicinal black coffee." Alfred walked forward with a plate and looked carefully at his young master's face.

"And you need a new reason to do extreme sports."