Chapter 3320: Bloody New City (80)

The iron-gray fog swallowed the Cat Getan Bridge at dusk, and there was not much traffic due to the chaotic situation in the Upper and Lower Districts. Schiller's car passed through the bridge quickly, turned, and drove toward Wei En Tower.

When crushing over the speed bump at the entrance, the dense windows of Wei En Tower were gradually lighting up. The wipers scraped away the fog on the windshield, and Schiller drove slowly into the front gate.

He knew that Mr. Freeze couldn't trap Batman for too long, Batman should be standing on the top floor of the building now. This is not a bat's habit, but he has nowhere to go now.

Schiller called him.

"Hey, Bruce, take some people and blow up Wei En Manor."

Bruce on the other end of the phone sprayed water again.

No, shouldn't the one who merged with the Joker be arrogance? And I have already stopped being Batman, why is the terrorist explosion maniac still chasing me?!

"I'm not going." Bruce said, "Blowing up a hospital is one thing, why should I blow up my own home in another universe? What if Batman finds out, wouldn't I be finished?"

No matter what Schiller said next, Bruce firmly refused to go. Bruce was mainly worried that if this universe's Batman found out, and he went to the Battleworld later, his hard-earned reputation would be completely ruined.

Of course, he didn't care about his reputation among Batman, he already had no reputation among the Batman group. What he cared about was his image among other superheroes, such as Superman, he still had to rely on these Kryptonian rescue dogs to be sympathetic to him and help him do work.

It doesn't matter if Bruce is unwilling, Schiller went directly to Joker Maria. And because of the previous transactions, Maria obtained a lot of funds from Schiller, and her base was built.

Welcoming Schiller in the new base and hearing his intention, Maria was a bit hesitant to speak.

No buddy, are you the Joker or am I the Joker?

I am still building walls high and claiming king here, and you plan to blow up Batman's old home directly?

Why don't you do this, don't call it Joker in the poker cards in the future, call it Shiller.

This job of blowing up Wei En Manor is not ordinary, even if there is only Batman left in Wei En Manor now, it is not something that can be blown up just by saying it.

What about the security system? How to place the bomb? How to transmit the detonation signal? What if Batman is not blown to death, how to face the upcoming pursuit?

Schiller waved his hand to indicate that these were all small things.

The security system was cracked by Bruce long ago, and now it can be turned off as soon as he says it. As long as you can make the bomb, I can find a way to put it in. Adopting traditional fuse ignition does not require transmitting signals. Blowing Batman half to death does not need to worry about pursuit.

The rigor of this plan made the Joker give him a thumbs up.

This is not Schiller's big heart, but in the comic plot, Wei En Manor was really blown up, and it was blown up by the Angel of Death.

That guy, the Angel of Death, has no academic qualifications and no technology, and he succeeded at once. There is no reason why the combination of Schiller and Joker can't succeed.

Anyway, no matter what, Joker gave Schiller a big bomb, enough to blow Wei En Manor to the sky. And Schiller also gave face and drew the Joker's iconic smiley face on the bomb, clearly telling Batman who prepared this surprise for him.

Although he really doesn't like the sick entanglement between Batman and Joker, he still likes their attitude that as long as the other party has an accident, they can't wait to stand up and take the blame.

This big bomb is really not small, it has to be transported by a large box truck. Joker is actually very curious about how Schiller plans to put such a big

"I need a sufficiently grand family therapy session."

"Treating whom? Batman?"

"Treating myself." Shiler walked to the other side of the car, opened the trunk, and said, "Treating my wounded soul, which is forced to be a detective, gets no overtime pay, and is isolated and bullied by you bunch of lunatics."

"And you." Shiler suddenly turned his head to look at Joker Maria and said, "You must listen to the doctor, otherwise I will call the next patient in."

Dark clouds churned over Cat Getan City, and the asphalt ground, washed by the rain, shone with an oily luster. The flaming longsword suddenly erupted with a dark golden light, illuminating the blood splatters on the deceased's neck as if they were flowing lava.

A tall figure stood before the three corpses, the flaming longsword in his hand shimmering with a metallic hue different from before, as if it were the anger he had been accumulating in his heart, now grown deeper.

The muscles under the Azrael's cloak twitched slightly from excessive tension, and his breathing was heavy through the slits of his mask. When he pressed his hand against the wound on his left arm, blood seeped out from between the fingers of his black glove.

When the woman in the cloak appeared at the end of the alley, the wind whipped up her hem, and the metal heels of her crocodile-skin boots shone with a high-end, custom-made, beautiful luster.

When she spoke, her voice, deliberately lowered to a hoarse tone, carried a neurotic tremor: "Don't be nervous..."

Before she could finish, the flaming longsword was already humming. Azrael suddenly raised his hand; the soft sound of the blade splitting was like a viper flicking its tongue, and the jetting tongue of fire instantly ignited the woman's mink-lined cloak.

The woman retreated in a panic for a few steps, but the flames burned ever brighter. She had no choice but to roll into the muddy rainwater to extinguish them.

"Look how disheveled you are." The sneer rolling in Azrael's throat was accompanied by the noise of dripping rain, and the sparks from the flaming longsword illuminated the gold thread on the cuffs of the Odine Company uniform.

"I came to help you." The woman's voice was somewhat hoarse. "They know you will take the sewer entrance on Rhododendron Avenue and have set a trap there; you had better take another route."

Azrael stared at her silently. The woman seemed not to have expected this reaction from him and sighed softly, saying, "You may already know your own background, but you still don't know your true mission. I will help you."

"What is my true mission? To die miserably after sacrificing everything for you?"

"No, you are to welcome the Lord's arrival. Only you have such ability. This is the glory bestowed upon you by the gods."

Azrael left without looking back.

The woman cursed, took out her phone, and said, "What are those people in the security department doing?! It's very likely that Paul already knows something..."

"Then what do you suggest we do? Now that we've lost Batman, we have no choice but to pick him! This guy is truly completely insane... Yes, we hoped he would be crazy, but not this kind of crazy; he should have become like a walking corpse, not still remain so powerful!"

"It must be that damned priest! That cunning devil, he gave Paul a powerful strength that didn't belong to him; he really is generous enough." A hint of jealousy lurked in the woman's tone.

Not knowing what was said on the other end, the woman gradually calmed down and said, "Fine, I will try again."

The stained glass of St. Marino Church refracted the sunlight into brilliant spots of light, and Brad's action of wiping the cross suddenly paused. When the heavy door creaked open, he smelled more than just the scent of blood.

Brad stood beneath the cross, looking helplessly at Azrael as he walked in.

"The new weapon is very useful." Azrael took the initiative to speak, "The flames it spews have given me the ability to fight at a distance. Thank you."

"If you want to thank someone, thank Batman; the materials on his vehicle are the best." Brad shook his head and said, "But I still want to dissuade you; do not continue this."

"You know that's impossible. Do you think Batman is dead?"

"Of course not. He wouldn't die so easily."

The atmosphere between the two fell silent. Then Brad took out a medical kit to bandage Azrael's arm; the bloody scent coming from Paul seemed to make even the devil feel uncomfortable.

"A woman came to find me." Azrael suddenly spoke, "She said I have a special mission. What do you think?"

Brad's heart skipped a beat, and when he looked at Azrael again, he found a hint of mockery in his gaze.

"Fine, it's time to tell you the truth, lest you be deceived by that group of people." Brad tried his best to appear not so guilty. He told Azrael about the contract with Emond and the conspiracy of the Order of Order.

"So they want to use me to summon an evil god?"

"Exactly. That is why I don't approve of you having too much contact with them; if soft tactics don't work, they might resort to some hard-line measures, and you might not be able to handle them."

"Are you worried about me?" Azrael sneered and said, "Don't be so hypocritical. Your indulgence is also one of the root causes of why I have reached this point today."

"I admit, I didn't want you to be too wealthy, otherwise you would have run off to the Upper City. That would have made it easier for them to catch you. But I also hoped you could live a stable life; after all, I watched you grow up."

"A devil full of lies," Azrael evaluated.

Brad didn't dwell on these things. He tied a knot in the bandage and then said, "What you want to do is your business, and I have my own tasks to complete. Now the situation is becoming increasingly urgent; you absolutely must not be caught by that group. If you encounter any predicament you cannot solve, smear your blood on the sword, and I will help you out."

"Why don't you just kill me?"

"I said I am..."

"Tell the truth."

"The bloodline within you is a kind of beacon; if you die, your Lord might sense it. I don't really want to offend him."

Azrael stood up and said, "Then help me stay alive as much as possible."

After Azrael left, Brad stayed there for a long time. But soon he regretted his momentary soft-heartedness. Because not even half an hour later, Paul summoned him.

When Brad descended, the scene wasn't exactly critical, it was just that Paul had been cornered in an alley on Rhododendron Avenue. Opposite him were police cars and officers in riot gear. This was clearly a premeditated roundup.

Brad did not appear, but he managed to use magic to take down a few key figures, helping Azrael break out.

But he had only been back at the church for less than 20 minutes when he smelled the bloody scent of Azrael again. He had to track this bloody scent once more to the Lower City. This time, Azrael had run into Nightwing.

This guy was not so easy to deal with, like a hyena relentlessly chasing a wounded prey. Brad managed to use magic to break his motorcycle and successfully knocked down a few squad members behind him. Azrael took advantage of the chaos to break through.

Then came another roundup by Odine Company; although these guys didn't have heavy equipment or weapons, a type of small bomb they threw seemed to be able to make people fall into a weakened state very quickly. Azrael was almost taken away by them.

Brad's hanging heart was completely dead. He didn't dare to leave Azrael's side for even half a step, keeping a close eye on him at all times, fearing that if any QTE didn't trigger, all his efforts for so long would be in vain.

Brad really wasn't a very diligent devil; years of leisurely life had made him unable to endure such a busy life. He just wanted to go home and have a cup of tea now. But Azrael was still attacking the Upper City, courting death, with no intention of stopping at all.

Brad was almost worked to death by him.

To reduce his workload, he abandoned his previous style of precise operation and became somewhat reckless. A few times, he even revealed his true form just to scare away those guys who didn't know what was good for them.

The Upper City, which was already very chaotic due to the police pursuit, was now completely in disarray. Rumors were spreading everywhere that Azrael was the incarnation of a devil. The wealthy people who still survived thought of all kinds of ways to avoid the devil coming to their doors.

In a house in a villa area not far from Rhododendron Avenue, the anxious atmosphere almost turned into something tangible. A middle-aged man with a tall, straight figure stood by the window holding a phone, but his tone was not as proud as his temperament.

"Yes, thank you so much, Mr. Shiler. Azrael has appeared near my house, and we urgently need an exorcism. It would be great if you could come today."

Half an hour later, Shiler, wearing a trench coat, gloves, and carrying a toolbox, appeared outside the villa door.

"Good afternoon, sir. Relax, I'm a professional. You will soon be rid of the devil's trouble."

(End of chapter)