The correct way to attack the villain

The news video stops here, but the video doesn't end there.In the version that went viral, after the group smashed the Batman statue and turned away, the mohawk standing at the end urinated on the pile of rubble with his back to the camera.

If it was similar to seeing those people painting Batman get out of Gotham with bright red spray paint on the government wall, Song Mo only frowned when the radical forces started parading Batman to address these news.

This time he rose from his chair almost instantly.

No one knows how many times he secretly ran to the city hall at night with the old clown on his back to stare at the tall statue when he was a child, although at that time he regarded Batman more as a kind of opponent when he grew up ——then the old clown who found him grabbed his collar and carried him home.

It was difficult for the young man to explain what this was called. If he had to say it clearly, it probably made him feel very unhappy that something in his territory had been violated.

"Where are you going?"

Alfred stopped Song Mo before he could make another move.

Song Mo stopped, thought for a while and said truthfully, "I don't know."

The old butler said considerately: "Your body hasn't fully recovered yet, the manor's private doctor said that you'd better rest for more than two days."

"Did you forget that I'm still a mutant, Mr. Alfred?" Song Mo turned around and faced Alfred, but he didn't mean to sit back, "That little injury It's nothing."

The old housekeeper smiled: "Then you and the young master can probably reach a consensus on this point. For him, even if his ribs are broken, as long as he can still walk, it is considered a minor injury."

After finishing speaking, the old man sighed, no matter what happened, his tone was always calm: "Actually, if you know, even the radio station that reported this news is owned by Wayne Enterprises, and the hostess was even Fox Hand poached from New York because all her political views are objective and correct."

"I've seen how objective and fair she is, sir." As the company's special assistant to the president, Song Mo certainly knows how many industries Wayne Enterprises is involved in on the surface, "If I were the boss of Wayne Enterprises, they would all Get fired."

Alfred laughed: "But the boss of Wayne Group is Bruce Wayne."

He turned around and continued to prepare the dinner for the owner of the manor, while saying: "It is a terrible thing for the media and public opinion to be completely controlled by one person. If the young master really does this, then he will really become that group of Gothams." The dictator of the people."

"That's why he is determined to buy all the radio stations that are against Batman, so as to maintain Batman's image as an outlaw." Song Mo resisted the impoliteness of rolling his eyes in front of an old man he respected The urge to act, "and your solution is to just sit there and do nothing."

Alfred still said calmly: "Actually, you don't need to be angry about this, because it has no effect on the young master. He never expects the people in Gotham to give him anything back. When those people pursued Batman, he didn't He will be complacent, and he will not be touched when he is against Batman. These are dispensable things for the young master."

"The citizens of Gotham are not fools. Some of them may be incited by public opinion, but they will naturally figure it out when the turmoil calms down. I believe that the young master protects these people who can distinguish good from bad."

Song Mo didn't speak.

Alfred turned his back to Song Mo: "Actually, from a certain point of view, the media said something right." The old man shrugged, "Even Bruce Wayne himself never thought Batman was a good person. "

Song Mo really wanted to say that whether Batman is a good person has nothing to do with him, and he doesn't care.It was an event planned by the Scarecrow specifically to target Batman, but in the end it seemed he was the only one who was unhappy.

The young man glanced out the window, and the bat lights on the clouds were so clear that they could be seen from this angle: "What about you?"

The old housekeeper froze for a moment: "What?"

Song Mo looked at the old housekeeper: "You've been talking about Bruce Wayne's thoughts since just now, but what about your own?"

Alfred paused, he didn't seem to expect Song Mo to ask such a question, and he replied after a while.

"I will only do what the young master wants me to do."

Song Mo lowered his eyes: "I see."

Alfred heard the footsteps of the young man behind him, and he seemed to sit back at the dining table again.No one spoke anymore, the TV was turned off, and the whole restaurant was very quiet, except for the sound of water running from the faucet and the sound of young people chewing food.Wait 10 minutes, after the sound of chewing food has disappeared.

Alfred turned around, and he saw the empty dining table as expected, with only empty plates left on the table, and the carefully prepared dinner was eaten without any dross left.

The old housekeeper couldn't help but smile.

Gotham's night will never usher in a peaceful day, and the bat light is turned on regularly like a routine clock.It's not every day that something like exchanging twenty Gotham citizens for a clown happens, but even the Gotham Police Department has experienced countless cases of the same nature.this means.

When someone is saved, someone will be sacrificed.

Some people are grateful to him, and some people hate him deeply.

"Hey, what are you doing!"

In an alley in the block closest to the city hall, a little boy in a gray shirt with a paint bucket in his hand tried to stop a group of gangsters who were graffiti on the wall.

And his size and height make his moves look less than deterrent.

"Ha, where did the child get out?"

The gangsters looked at the child and laughed loudly. Someone took out a dime note from his wallet and threw it to him: "Take it to buy candy, don't interfere with the adults' work here."

The dime fell at the child's feet, and the child glanced behind him.

His parents were eating in the restaurant at the back, and if these people dared to do anything to him, as long as he yelled, his father would rush out and beat them up.

So the child said confidently: "You shouldn't do this."

The mohawk-headed punk in the lead plucked his ears as if he had misheard: "I heard it right, right? What is he talking about?"

Then he asked himself and answered: "Yes, a child, here to provoke us with righteous words?"

The child said sternly: "Batman has protected many people, and Gotham is as safe as it is now because of him. You don't need to thank him, and write bad things about him on the wall."

Mohawk laughed even more exaggeratedly: "Go back and drink your mother's milk, you little mouse. Or is it that your mother never taught you how to meddle in your own business?"

The child frowned: "Then your mother probably never taught you how to spell thank you."

The gangsters around Mohawk's head burst into laughter: "You were laughed at by a child, Mohawk."

The Mohawk gangster obviously didn't have the patience to talk to a child well. He dropped the cigarette in his hand and stood up from the locomotive: "There are not many people in this area who dare to say such things to our speeding group. Are you Are you courting death?"

Kid: "By the time I was six, I couldn't even have an old-school name like Cockpit."

The other gangsters were taken aback for a moment, and then they all looked unhappy.Gotham has never had a tradition of respecting the old and loving the young. They would say a few words to this kid just because they were in a good mood after smashing the Batman statue, but now——

"I should teach you how to survive in Gotham for your mother, little bug."

Mohawk walked up slowly with his head on his knuckles. The alley was dimly lit, making the flower arms on his hands look hideous and scary.

This is not the first time the child has encountered this situation, he was very calm, took a deep breath, and was about to call out his father's name loudly——

Four screams.

The four gangsters didn't know where they were hit, and they almost fell unconscious on the spot.The child heard footsteps coming from the depths of the alley, and someone came out of the shadows.First he saw a pair of green leather shoes, then striped purple suit pants.

He wanted to say that since he was four years old, he has rarely seen normal people wearing green leather shoes and purple suit pants on the street except in circuses.but no matter.

The child looked up: "Thank you, first—"

Halfway through his words, he suddenly got stuck in his throat.

The person under the shadow came out. Not only was he wearing green leather shoes and a purple suit, but he was also holding a falcon-headed cane, and he was wearing a clown outfit with a full face.In Gotham, no one is unfamiliar with his name.

Joker.

The child's eyes widened suddenly, his neck seemed to be strangled, and he couldn't make a sound, and couldn't even call out his father's name.

"Tut tsk tsk." The clown stopped where he was, looked at the child with those blue eyes, and said distressedly, "What a poor little boy, he was so scared by these gangsters that he couldn't speak."

As he spoke, he moved the position of the cane, aimed at one of the gangster's knees, and pushed down naturally—the child swore he heard something shattering.

Mohawk, who was in a coma, was awakened by the pain in his head, and he screamed and rolled on the spot hugging his knees.The child looked at the knee that sank into a groove through the trousers.

The child's back is cold.That kneecap must have shattered into powder.

But the clown didn't seem to intend to let him go, as if he saw some toy, the green leather shoe rubbed against the ground, and then stepped on the Mohawk like a cigarette butt——

crotch.

This time Mohawk didn't let out a scream, because before he could make a sound, the clown inserted the cane precisely into his mouth.

Mohigan cursed several times vaguely, and after seeing clearly that the person in front of him was a clown, he froze in place just like a child's reaction.

"This time it's only on the left side. If you dare to call again later." The clown's index finger stroked the falcon's cane, "it's the middle."

After speaking, the clown removed the cane.Mohawk's headache caused tears and snot to flow all over his face, but unexpectedly, he bit his lip tightly and did not let out a cry of pain.

The clown showed a disappointed expression, glanced down at the saliva mixed with blood on the eagle-headed cane, curled his lips in distaste, and threw the cane everywhere—anyway, there were plenty of them in the trunk of Bunya.

"What's your name?" He asked suddenly.

It took the child a while to realize that the other party was asking him. He moved his throat and finally found his own voice: "Dick, Dick."

Dick didn't know why he was answering, but he subconsciously replied, even giving his full name, "Dick Grayson."

"Grayson? Don't tell me you're part of the trapeze circus family next door."

Dick said honestly, "Yes."

"Oh." The clown raised his eyebrows, "I was passing there just now, and the old director almost sent me a half-price admission ticket for tomorrow, saying that it was to celebrate the eighth birthday of the child of the super flying Mr. and Mrs. Grayson , before his old eyes see my face clearly."

Then he said to his intellectual brain in his mind, "It was they who robbed my adoptive father's business and caused my adoptive father's circus to go bankrupt?"

Bangya:? ?

Isn't it because old Mr. Jack's magic technique is too clumsy?

The clown squinted his eyes like he was talking to himself: "Eight years old, it's really an age that no one will miss at all."

Dick didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.He kind of wanted to run away, but seeing the punks lying on the ground unconscious after being hit by a bullet dispelled that idea.He wanted to call him dad again, but it was just a thought.Because of the current situation, even if his father comes, it is impossible to get better, and it may even get worse.

He could only turn his free hand behind his back, and took out the cell phone in his pants pocket to call the police, but the clown seemed to have clairvoyance: "You don't need to call the police, I won't do anything to you, at least not now. "

Dick's hand paused.

The clown moved a step, and the leather shoes stepped on the fingers of Mohawk's head. Mohawk trembled from the pain, but he clenched his teeth again and did not make a sound.

Those blue eyes looked at Dick, to be more precise, the white paint bucket in Dick's hand: "Did you paint the latex paint on the government wall?"

Dick didn't know why the other party asked this suddenly, so he could only nod his head.

"That's just right."

The clown raised his foot, commanding a child ten years younger than him to work with peace of mind.Dick glanced at Mohawk's bloody fingers on the ground, swallowed, and immediately looked away.

The clown pointed to the line of writing on the wall: "You help me paint that."