Chapter 3323

Batman stood on the roof of Wayne Tower, the night wind whistling past, blowing his cape to snap loudly. He stared down at the Bat-tracker in his hand, the red dot flashing on the screen gradually approaching the target location. The wealthy tycoon named David Antafus was last seen right here.

The "No Signal" signs on the target map were more numerous than the raindrops falling on the screen; the surveillance network he had painstakingly laid out in the Upper District had been destroyed by the Angel of Death in less than a month.

He pressed the communicator by his ear lightly and whispered: "Nightwing, activate the thermal imaging scan on the Batmobile, I need to confirm the signs of life inside the building."

"Processing." Nightwing's steady voice came from the earpiece. A few seconds later, a blue thermal imaging map appeared on Batman's goggles; there were three figures in the villa, one woman and two children.

"Target confirmed," Batman whispered, "Prepare to move."

Nightwing, who had climbed onto the roof with a grappling hook, leaped, agile as a water bird, and landed silently in the courtyard.

But just as he approached the back door, he heard movement coming from the front yard; a woman's screams, children's crying, and some obscure, dark words were mixed together.

Nightwing instantly drew his weapon, flipped back onto the roof, arched his body over the ridge, and looked toward the front door; a tall figure wearing a red cape stood there.

The flaming longsword in the Angel of Death's hand burned in the darkness, the scorching firelight reflecting his stern face beneath the hood.

"Angel of Death, let them go!" Nightwing said in a deep voice. He slid down from the eaves, landed with a clean roll, and charged toward the Angel of Death.

The Angel of Death just sneered, the flaming longsword swung suddenly, and the scorching sword energy tore through the air, "Who has ever let me go?"

Before the words fell, he leaped suddenly, the flaming longsword slashing down with a scorching heat wave. Nightwing quickly turned sideways, his short sticks crossed in front of his chest, barely blocking the strike.

The heat wave of the flames rushed toward his face, and Nightwing felt the inhaled hot air burning his heart and lungs, but he didn't retreat; instead, he used the force to flip backward, opening up the distance.

"No matter what, you shouldn't lay a hand on innocent people!" Nightwing looked at him fearlessly, the sticks spinning in his hands, and charged toward the Angel of Death suddenly. His movements were as swift as the wind, the short sticks drawing two silver arcs in the air, striking directly at the Angel of Death's flank.

The Angel of Death snorted coldly, the flaming longsword swept horizontally, and the scorching sword energy forced Nightwing to retreat. However, Nightwing didn't stop, his footsteps light as a cat, quickly circling behind the Angel of Death, the short sticks stabbing suddenly toward his heart.

The Angel of Death reacted extremely quickly, the flaming longsword swung backhand, and the scorching flames forced back Nightwing's offensive. The two weapons collided in the air, sparks flying, and the clash of flames and metal ignited one small explosion after another in the night.

"You think you can stop me?" The Angel of Death's voice carried mockery, "This city needs purification, and I am that fire!"

"No, you are just destroying!" Nightwing gritted his teeth and responded, the two sticks striking together suddenly, aiming directly at the Angel of Death's head. The Angel of Death raised his sword to block, but Nightwing's offensive was continuous, the short sticks falling like raindrops, forcing the Angel of Death to retreat repeatedly.

Suddenly, Nightwing seized a flaw, the short sticks striking the Angel of Death's wrist suddenly, the flaming longsword flying out of his hand and sticking into the ground not far away. The Angel of Death roared, throwing a punch directly at Nightwing's face, but Nightwing had long anticipated this move, dodging sideways, the short sticks striking the Angel of Death's abdomen in the process.

The Angel of Death groaned, staggering backward, the anger in his eyes even more intense. Nightwing didn't give him a chance to catch his breath, the sticks attacking continuously like lightning, finally knocking the Angel of Death to the ground with a heavy strike.

Nightwing covered his wrist, which had just been burned by the flames, took a deep breath and said: "Whether you believe it or not, I want to help you. Stop making mistakes, Paul."

The Angel of Death lay on the ground, the embers of the flaming longsword flickering beside him. He looked up at Nightwing, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, but finally just sneered and closed his eyes.

Nightwing pressed his earpiece and said: "I ran into the Angel of Death, but I've already solved it. Do you want me to bring him back?"

"Angel of Death? How could he appear in... Abnormal energy reaction! Nightwing! Dodge!!!"

With a bang, a huge fireball smashed into the spot where Nightwing had originally stood. Nightwing glared at the figure gradually emerging from the darkness.

"It's you again! You damn demon!!!"

Brad spread his hands somewhat innocently and said: "I was just about to say it's you again, you ubiquitous Batman lackey. Why on earth do you have to keep holding onto us?!"

"That's because you are always hurting innocent people!"

The Angel of Death lying on the ground sneered again. He said: "Innocent? Do you know where the money that raised the woman and children you protect came from? If he had paid my wages on time, all the crimes you loathe wouldn't have happened."

Nightwing sighed and said: "I think you're right, they didn't treat you well, you should find a way to protect yourself. But killing them won't change anything. You should be dealing with someone else."

"Are you talking about me? Or Batman?"

"You should know it's not." Nightwing's tone didn't waver in the slightest, he said, "Now the one who wants to cross you and kill all the rich people is the Clown. If you don't stop him, you will never be able to complete your revenge."

"I don't care who kills them, I just want them to die."

"But if you continue to run around in the rain killing people like this, then you will definitely not live until the day of their funeral. Maybe the survivors among them can even go to your grave and hypocritically say a few words of apology, showing off their kindness in front of the media."

The Angel of Death suddenly began to retch.

Brad looked at Nightwing and said: "You are even better at talking than Batman. I promise I will keep an eye on him as much as possible, don't come and trouble him again."

After speaking, a burst of thick smoke rose, and Brad, the Angel of Death, and his longsword disappeared together.

"I think this is not right," Nightwing said, "I wasn't chasing him this time, but he happened to run here."

"Someone is delaying the time for our investigation." Batman said, "I heard that the Pale Knight also ran into some trouble and can't get away for the time being, I'm afraid you have to go and help him."

"What happened to him?" Nightwing said while walking into the house.

"Ran into a street racer." Batman didn't elaborate.

Nightwing comforted the woman and children, asking about the whereabouts of their husband. But this lady only told them that their husband had hired an exorcist, and after performing an exorcism ritual, he had completely disappeared.

This was basically consistent with the results Batman had obtained in other investigations, and unsurprisingly, he learned Shiler's name from this woman's mouth.

Nightwing was still somewhat incredulous. He said while getting into the Batmobile: "How could Dr. Shiler become the Clown's lackey?"

"You are too optimistic," Batman said, "You should ask why the Clown became Shiler's lackey."

"What nonsense are you talking about? That crazy brain of the Clown doesn't support him being at anyone's beck and call at all. He only goes crazy according to his own ideas."

"That was before." Batman's tone gradually deepened, he said, "Now the Clown has no other choice."

Gotham's rainy night always carries a kind of oppressive suffocation; the rain pours down, hitting the street surface, splashing up patches of water.

Nightwing drove the Batmobile, the engine roar shattering the rain curtain, the headlights projecting two dazzling beams of light on the wet road.

The bodysuit was already soaked in the previous fight in the rain, sticking tightly to his skin, but the sharp eyes beneath the mask were always fixed on the front—the Pale Knight's silver-white sports car was speeding not far away, the taillights blurring into a scarlet halo in the rain.

"Mr. Napier, it's me! I'm here to help you." Nightwing shouted into the intercom, stepping on the gas to the floor, and the Batmobile rushed out like an arrow from a bow. The rain wet the windshield, blurring his vision, but he drove the bulky Batmobile as if it were a flying bird, moving freely on the road full of obstacles.

The Pale Knight's sports car made a sharp turn ahead, the tires making a harsh friction sound on the wet road, the car body drifting through the turn almost out of control. Nightwing followed closely, the Batmobile tilting in the turn, one side of the tires almost off the ground.

"Batman, help me lock his route!" Nightwing pressed the communicator by his ear, his voice sounding somewhat blurred in the engine's roar.

"Tracking." Batman's voice was calm and clear, "There is an overpass three hundred meters ahead, he might try to shake you off there."

Nightwing narrowed his eyes; he trusted Batman's judgment. Sure enough, the Pale Knight's sports car accelerated suddenly, rushing toward the overpass. Nightwing didn't hesitate, the Batmobile followed closely.

"Help me intercept that Challenger in front." The Pale Knight's tone, containing suppressed anger, came from the intercom, he said, "This guy is a master, be careful."

"I know." Nightwing curled the corner of his mouth and said, "I'll let him see what a real street racer is."

Nightwing's gaze was locked on the Challenger at the very front; the opponent's movements were very agile, dodging the Pale Knight's pressure by swaying left and right, while getting faster and faster.

"The target is moving toward the pier, I need to block the route." Nightwing pressed the communicator by his ear, his voice calm and rapid.

"Traffic signal control device activated." Batman seemed to be busy with something else, sounding somewhat distracted.

Nightwing nodded, stepping on the gas to the floor, and the car rushed out like an arrow from a bow.

The Pale Knight was attempting his twentieth interception, when another car shadow rushed out from the side street, and the Batmobile, as deep as a black hole, cut into the main road like a ghost, driving side by side with him.

"Two against one, even if you win, it's not a fair fight." A voice full of mockery came from the intercom channel.

"If I catch you, I'll let you know what a real unfair fight is." The Pale Knight's tone grew colder.

The two cars were one in front of the other, chasing closely like cheetahs. Bruce rested one hand on the steering wheel, showing no tension at all.

He made a sharp turn suddenly, and Nightwing and the Pale Knight reacted almost simultaneously; the black and white cars drew arcs as beautiful as neck-entwined black and white swans in the turn, biting the target tightly.

"The front has been blocked, he has nowhere to escape." Nightwing said in a deep voice, one hand already grabbing the short stick behind his back.

The Pale Knight didn't respond, just accelerated suddenly, closing in on the Challenger's flank. Bruce seemed to have suddenly panicked, the car body swaying left and right, trying to shake off the pursuit.

Nightwing seized the opportunity, the Batmobile drifted, cut in from the side, the car window lowered, and the short stick was thrown out suddenly. The wheel ran over the short stick, slipping for a moment. The Challenger's car body tilted suddenly, crashing into the guardrail on the side of the road out of control.

Bang!

Sizzle—

The Batmobile's tires drew a long water mark on the road, crashing directly into the door on the passenger side of the Challenger, and pinning the door on the driver's side against the guardrail on the side of the road.

The Pale Knight's sports car also stopped steadily on the other side, the car door opened, and the Pale Knight walked out, the muzzle of the gun in his hand aimed at the Challenger's car door.

"Game over." The Pale Knight said coldly.

Along with the back door slowly opening, the figure that walked out with hands raised left Nightwing frozen in place.

His hand slowly touched his earpiece, and he roared in shock: "Batman... you never told me this street racer was you!!!"

(End of chapter)