Orc Tyrant

The last time Bruce Wayne cried was on the verge of transforming from a boy to a man, but on the long night of losing his parents, the boy did not become a man. In fact, he eventually became a weapon. Embarking on a life that doesn't require emotion or tears.

He couldn't understand the feeling of hurt at the time, and he can't now. This kind of expression of bad feelings has never been suitable for him.

A newcomer was lying on the operating table, being taken care of by a blood-stained robotic arm. Some figures obscured his sight. He only saw the uneven flesh and blood, and the whole room was sprinkled with blood and the air There is a primitive and vigorous smell, a smell different from the copper that is emitted from humans.

Maybe another monster is about to be born...

The thought stopped here. He couldn't continue thinking about it. Trying to think about it was no different from depicting colors that he had never seen or recalling songs he had never heard before. His mind used all his strength to drive away this idea.

Oak still remembers Arkham’s slaughter. For a long time, he spent most of his energy on killing such filthy beasts. He used to fight with them in the plains, hills and ruins. Intersect, he has witnessed many unimaginable things, some are very subtle, some are like miracles.

Oak is not always driven by anger, they are also cautious when necessary, and most of the world's judgments about them are actually very wrong.

His body still bears the scars left by many battles. He can use surgery or skin transplantation to eliminate or heal these wounds, but he likes to leave them. That is the only thing he got in this barbaric war. There is something of his own.

Thinking of this, he looked down at his hand armor. It is hard to imagine that these steel claws painted in crimson red were just the hands of fragile humans in the past. A few months ago, he accepted the invitation of the Shadow Prince to take revenge. The other party borrowed power-although it was a bit of opportunism to say that, he didn't want to make himself aware of the fallen reality.

Suddenly, the heavy and harsh breathing caught his attention, but he didn't even have to look up.

He smelled the scent of the candle on the man, the scent of wax carried by the aging blood pushed by the slow heart and weak blood vessels, and the visitor was not only aging but also very weak.

Bruce shook his body.

"Master Yaningping."

He greeted the visitor in the dark robe, and the old man nodded in response, making an asthmatic sound in the breathing mask.

"When did you come back from the front line?"

"I just arrived, Master, I'm here to find you."

"Please follow me, I have something to show you, and we have to discuss some things."

The door opened, and there was a smell of tomb from inside, Yanin Ping walked in, still panting in the breathing mask.

Bruce followed, his feet stomping heavily on the deck, and his voice echoed between the curved walls.

At this moment, the old man ignored the corpses hanging on chains, but Bruce did not. He stepped into the transformation room very few times. Even after so many battles, the place where the Shadow Prince used to make inhuman soldiers was still Will make him stand tall.

In this place, he had seen the madness in his mind being pushed out and polluting the world around him, and many truths brought about by witchcraft were written on the skinned corpses and blasphemous bodies.

The old man took a breath, and the moist air condensed in front of his metal mask, forming water droplets around his thin lips.

"He often talks to them."

"Who to talk to?"

Yaninping pointed to the corpse.

"they."

Bruce approached a corpse hung in the air, and gently pushed the naked, tragic body. The chain-hung corpse immediately swayed back and forth, and a certain black liquid dripped from the open mouth. ground.

"He is still unpleasant as always."

He shook his head and turned to face the black wizard who had been wanted for decades. .

"What do you want me to do?"

Yaninping sat on a chair next to the wooden table with his old bones, and without showing any signs of impatience, his gaze was placed on a piece of parchment.

Then, the paper shook slowly in his scrawny hand.

"You never seem to want to get to know the people you serve, Wayne."

As he spoke, he looked away from his work.

"Other people want to know, won't this make you feel like a knot?"

This is the second time, Bruce thought.

"I don't think it is necessary."

"indeed."

Yaningping stroked the gray hair beside his haggard face and handed a piece of parchment across the table. Before spreading it out, he read the words on the milky white paper, mixed with gasping and coughing.

"Bruce Wayne, born in Arkham, his father is the head of Wayne United Steel Company, and his mother comes from a prominent family in the Benedictine Empire, a high-ranking member of the Shadow Blade, and..."

The old wizard paused, then shook his head.

"There is also a ridiculous title-Black Knight."

Bruce Wayne took a deep breath of the slaughterhouse-like smell in the room, his expression revealed.

"I'm not sure I like your tone. The person who mocked me the last time soon regretted doing so, [Heartbreaker] Yaningping."

"Oh?"

The old man raised his head, curiosity filled his sweaty face.

"Who is that?"

"I don't remember the name."

"I thought you superman warriors have amazing memories, and if you want, you can vividly reproduce the scene at that time."

"I am indeed, but I never asked his name. I was busy skinning him alive. Now tell me what you are looking for me, Yaninping, I hope you didn’t mistake me for a very patient person. people."

The other party showed teeth that were blackened by age.

"If you want to command an army, you have to learn to have patience."

Bruce Wayne laughed and inhaled a large mouthful of the air mixed with the smell of chemicals and flesh and blood.

"Do you also think I would want to gain power in this shit-like place? Even you, his favorite old devil, has lost his mind? Yaningping, it would be too sad to see you alive and stupid. Got it."

The wizard returned his gaze to the parchment and smiled under the black metal mask.

"I know your secret, Wayne."

"I have no secrets."

Bruce's fingers stroked the parchment paper, and brushed the ink handwriting lightly.

"He told me, he told me everything."

The black knight shook his head slightly, and his black eyes didn't blink.

"I have no secrets."

He said again, but his tone lacked firmness and was more inattentive.