Martin Variety in American Comics

Blood dripping from the fatal injury from the corpse of the ground, flushing the dust on the floor, and gathered together to form blood -red mud water.

Martin's mood is as disgusting as the stench bloody smell emitted from mud water.

At the moment Siwa reminded him, the name of the Assassin Alliance immediately appeared in Martin's mind.

Siwa is a martial arts, and has not worked for organizations, and there are only a few followers around him.

The only large -scale organization that has been in contact with her is the "Assassin Alliance", one of the largest talent output of DC world.

But according to Gotham News, among the Akham's chaos a few years ago, the Assassin League leader Lars El Gurl has died in Akham's fire. Since then, the Assassin Alliance It has also fallen apart, and has never been active for many years.

Is it that Lals has been resurrected again after the Saranchi, or has a more fierce character united the scattered assassin alliance?

Martin really doesn't know these two possibilities, which is worse.

But he knew that if Penguin and Assassin Alliance really colluded together, it would not be impossible to destroy Gotham even if it was destroyed.

"It's over when you fight alone!"

Martin lamented for the difficulty of the enemy, ready to inform Gordon and Batman about what he knew.

He has no superpowers now. A person who faces the Penguin and Assassin Alliance. There is only one dead end. Of course, he has to call for support.

I just thought of seeing penguins at night. He took out the tablet, slid his fingers, and was ready to send a piece of encryption information.

But the operation has just begun. Some kind of feeling like the sixth sense, a feeling of a hidden back of the back suddenly appears, Martin feels the danger, a donkey rolls on the spot, hiding after the cement wall, he can avoid a series of shots and shoot him towards him. Bullets.

"Are there any masters?"

Martin leaned against the rough cement wall, glanced around, looking for retreat, ready to go.

He didn't want to hit it anymore.

"Come out!"

After the instrument, only the cold electronic sound remained echoed in the rotten tail.

Martin slightly tilted his head, showing a eyes, and saw the black armored man who tried to block Sava in the morning, holding an automatic rifle, like a nail, nailed to the stairs.

Da Da Da!

The strong man noticed Martin's peeping, the muzzle turned, and the bullets splashed water generally, hitting the cement wall, splashing a lot of debris.

"Wow, it's a cold and ruthless fighting machine!"

Martin pulled his head back in time, escaped the bullet, and sighed the sensitivity of the heroic instincts, and also strengthened the idea of ​​slipping away.

This guy is not easy to deal with at a glance, and you cannot waste time with the other party.

He listened to the sound of footsteps, and his gaze locked the steel pipe scaffolding that had not been removed by the outer floor of the building, and his legs kicked the ground, such as leaving the string arrow.

"I want to escape from my hands!"

The strong man watched the shadow that had passed by, pulled the trigger at the scaffold outside the building, and the bullets spun from the muzzle.

He had scanned the structure of the entire building, and planned all the way to escape in his mind. He consciously played Martin in applause and couldn't help but pride.

Martin predicted the other party's prediction, and used the opponent's pride, ran halfway, suddenly a sudden brake, turned to kick, and raised a piece of dust to cover the eyes of the strong man.

As close as a toad, he stared like a toad, escaped the bullet of the strong man, hugged his waist with both hands, twisted his body hard, and flew out of more than 200 pounds of strong man in his arms.

The armor of the strong man is too heavy, and it is difficult to stop for a while under the effect of inertia. Even though he pierced the ground on the ground with the spikes on his gloves, reducing the speed, he almost fell from upstairs, hung on the edge of the balcony, looking at a large black bat from a distance.

"asshole!"

The strong man looked at Martin, who ran out of the bad tail, and scolded him, then let go of himself, and let him fall from the third floor.

Oh!

Martin listened to the dull sound from his back, and shook his head helplessly. Where did Gotham have so many madmen?

He just got rid of a martial arts, but he didn't want to be entangled with such a lunatic, so he speeded up the run, and soon rushed into a abandoned last century building.

The strong man followed Martin and kicked the door, but only saw a large number of stray guys lying in the waste carton.

These people abandoned by the society have no energy to say, lying in their own waste carton, nothing except panting. Even if a stranger broke in, they were indifferent, but their eyes moved, and then they resumed their lying corpse, lying in the darkness and waiting for death.

The strong man was walking in the tramp, and the instruments on the helmet continued to scan around, but it was difficult to distinguish Martin's trace from the life signal of the formation.

The stairs and elevator wells from upstairs were blocked by the wooden boards that were nailed. Although there were gaps, it was impossible to let an adult pass through.

"The cunning kid!"

The strong man respected Martin's identity. After scanning several times, his mood gradually became irritable.

There is no mistake, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one 619, one book, one, one, one, one, one, one, a book!

He raised his gun several times and aimed at the muzzle. It seemed that he threatened Martin to stand up, but in the end he did nothing, but he turned silently and left.

Martin is indeed not in the tramp. He drilled the wooden board with a technique similar to osteogenesis and ran to the top of the building.

A tall antenna stands on the top of the building. It was used to enhance the signal strength of radio stations in the past. With the development of the times, most of these antennas have been abandoned, but they have become repeaters for underground forces to communicate secretly.

The gangs can use it, and Batman can use it too.

Martin used two iron wires to poke the lock on the wire door, opened the cover of the repeater, took out the tablet, opened the software to unlock the password, and slid his hands across the screen.

Countless numbers and letters jumped, and the permutations and combinations were repeated, which was a huge amount.

But under the software developed by Batman, this almost unbreakable digital password lock was finally pried open a gap. As numbers and letters were locked and selected one by one, the password was cracked.

"It's worthy of Batman. He can even come up with this kind of thing!"

Martin sighed at Batman's inventive ability, and kept uploading an encrypted file to the Internet.

After doing this, he restored the repeater to its original state, then left the building, and found a clothing store at random, ready to change his bloody clothes.

The owner of the clothing store saw Martin covered in blood, but he was not afraid. Instead, he enthusiastically recommended a suit that was not easy to get bloodstained.

Martin had a dark face, but the owner didn't care: "Since decades ago, the Gotham gang has never stopped. They can't stand customers like you, so they either run away or die. The rest of them have long been used to it."

Martin was even more speechless. He changed his clothes and hurriedly left the clothing store.

As soon as he walked out of the store, he received a call from his secretary Candy:

"Mr. Martin, Mr. Cobblepot sincerely invites you to meet at the Ice Peak Hotel at 5 o'clock this afternoon. Please be sure to come!"

"I know!"

Martin replied coldly and hung up the phone.

He looked up at the gray sky of Gotham, and did not feel any relaxation. Instead, he felt like someone was strangling his throat.

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