American comics: Start by copying Superman’s talents

Elliot Manor late at night.

Gino threw away the canvas bag in his hand.

The young man took off his suit, revealing his muscular body.

"Wow."

The zipper opened with Gino's strength, and a costume of a clawed assassin fell out.

Looking at the costumes on the ground, Gino's head was full of black lines: "Why would there be superheroes who like to wear uniforms to fight? This is simply a ridiculous torture."

To be honest, fighting in this kind of uniform is not only inconvenient to breathe, but the tight-fitting clothes also greatly restrict the user's body movements.

If you move too much, you may even tear the lines of your tights, causing an embarrassing situation.

On top of that, it would be a disaster if the wearer had intestinal issues...

Kicking the canvas bag under the bed, Gino lay lazily on the bed, holding green kryptonite in his hand, absorbing the special energy in it.

He thought about everything that had happened tonight.

Play as the Talon Assassin and kill Maroni in front of all the rich and powerful in Gotham.

If his guess was correct, the people who saw his appearance change instantly at the meeting might all have something to do with the Owl Council.

However, Gino was not anxious at all. He was looking forward to the moment when he would uncover those rats in the shadows.

early morning.

The red light district is as busy as ever.

Marco is a gang leader in Gotham City.

To be honest, in Gotham City, where gang competition is extremely fierce, he alone cannot occupy the position of mid-level gang leader.

But luckily he was funded by some mysterious people who helped him secure his position.

Correspondingly, he needs to help those mysterious people investigate some strange things from time to time.

Like tonight, a guy in a weird costume assassinated Maroney.

To be honest, Maroney's death was a disaster for the underworld.

His power fell apart, and other forces were also ready to eat Maroni's original cake.

Marco pushed open the door and walked into the tailor's shop.

"Welcome to Olivier Tailor Shop, what do you need?"

The person responsible for welcoming Marco was an old man in his 60s.

He holds a pencil for recording measurements in his ear and a tape measure wrapped around one hand, looking like a typical tailor.

Looking at the old tailor, Marco's eyes rolled around and he smiled wickedly: "Excuse me, can you make this kind of clothing?"

He took out a piece of white paper from his pocket and drew a Talon Assassin costume on it.

The old tailor rubbed his eyes, looked at the design drawings, and muttered: "It's so strange. A few days ago, a kid also customized this kind of clothes for me."

Hearing the tailor's words, Marco suddenly felt that his breathing was a little faster.

He didn't expect that the first store he walked into would have clues.

"Excuse me, do you know his name?" Marco pursed his lips and looked at the old tailor.

"Well, look at my head, I can't remember a lot." The old tailor said in a long tone, with a greedy look in his eyes.

Of course he remembered the young man. Although he wore a mask, he left his name.

Marco smiled.

Having been involved in both black and white circles for many years, he naturally knew what the other party wanted.

Marco took out a bundle of knives tied with a small rubber band from his pocket and threw them on the counter.

The old tailor picked up the pile of dollar bills, nodded them in his hand, and showed a satisfied smile.

He turned around and walked into the counter, and quickly took out a small piece of paper: "This man calls himself Geno Luther, and he lives in Elliot Manor."

"Very good." Marco put away the note with satisfaction.

Then he raised his left hand.

A dark revolver was caught in his hand.

"Oh!"

The bullet pierced the old man's skull, and there was still a greedy smile on his face when he died.

Marco blew away the smoke floating from the muzzle of the gun, then reached out and took the pile of dollar bills from the old tailor's hand.

He took off his gentleman's hat and paid tribute to the old tailor, then turned and left the tailor's shop.

It’s the familiar round table conference hall again.

A group of dignitaries wearing white owl masks sit in a circle around each other.

"Our faithful hounds bring the latest news."

The guy sitting at the front slowly spoke: "It has been confirmed that the person who framed the court that night was Lauren Elliot's grandson, Geno Luther from Metropolis."

When they heard the name Elliot, many people present snickered.

"The loser?"

"Did he instruct his unfortunate grandson to take revenge on us?"

"This guy seems to have lost his mind."

"Is the Luther family involved?"

"A strong dragon cannot suppress a local snake. If the Luther family dares to stretch out its claws, we will chop it down!"

They discussed in whispers.

"Okay, gentlemen and ladies." The leader knocked on the table.

The noise faded away like a tide.

In the silence, the person in the first seat slowly said: "We will proceed according to the plan discussed last night."

"Send out the claws to claim your life."

"The Elliot family name is too old."

"It's time for it to withdraw from the stage of Gotham's history!"

No matter what time of day, the sky in Gotham is always gray.

Early the next morning, Jino, who was sleeping soundly, was awakened by the sound of rain.

"Damn day." Kino rubbed his eyes and looked out the window.

Heavy rain fell from the gray sky.

The heavy raindrops made a crackling sound on the window.

After Gino got dressed and walked downstairs, he saw Dr. Harleen sorting out the consultation records on the table.

"Doctor Harleen." Jino looked at the heavy rain outside the window, then looked at the girl: "Good morning."

Harleen smiled shyly: "Good morning, Mr. Gino."

Jino smiled and did not talk to the shy psychiatrist.

He stood in front of the glass window of the house, staring out the window with his blue eyes.

Harleen subconsciously looked at Jino. She stared into those blue eyes, feeling a little curious. She couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Jino, what are you looking at?"

"What are you looking at?"

Jino raised the corners of his lips slightly. He gently closed his eyes and said softly: "Miss Harleen, didn't you hear me?"

The psychiatrist was slightly startled, and even pricked up his ears: "What did you hear?"

Jino didn't answer, and concentrated on his hearing.

He heard the movements outside the manor.

In the heavy rain, the raindrops pouring down from the sky made a crackling sound on the clothes.

There seemed to be something, like a group of people, walking quietly towards the manor.

Jino opened his eyes, and his originally gentle gaze instantly became sharp and terrifying.

Through the glass and the iron gate of the manor, Jino saw a group of weirdos wearing black uniforms and owl eye patches.

Each of them is tall and burly, with several flying knives equipped on the armor straps on their chests, and their hands are inlaid with two cold bayonets, which are exposed like the claws of birds on a rainy night. Cold murderous intent.

Jino slowly opened the door of the manor.

The young man walked out of the house and let the pouring rain hit him.

The rain in Gotham also exudes a cold and pungent chemical smell.

Gino took a deep breath.

He watched the assassins jump over the two-meter-high iron fence with a single leap. They stepped silently on the wet ground, and their orange eye masks emitted a dazzling light in the rainy night.

Jino smiled, opened his arms and said:

"Does anyone want to leave before the fight starts?"