Chapter 4447

"What about the one you're currently investigating?"

"You said it yourself, I'm investigating him. If I were to collude with him, wouldn't Batman be furious with me?"

"On the surface, you certainly can't collude," Schiller laughed, "and you can't actively collude either, otherwise it would indeed be easy for Batman to bury you in the ground."

Bruce laughed and joked, bumped Schiller's shoulder, and said, "I didn't expect you to take this job either; I thought that old workhorse would be doing it again."

"If the Agent knew you said that, he would definitely shoot you." Schiller rolled his eyes slightly.

"I know you did it for me," Bruce said. "How is it? Did you find out his background? To be able to let Batman investigate for so long, he can't be a simple character, right?"

"Looking at his quality, it's not bad," Schiller paused and said, "Just the trick of resurrecting relatives and emotional blackmail can be considered clever. If it weren't for the fact that the Batman of that universe was too difficult to deal with, he might have really succeeded."

"Then his judgment isn't good either, picking the most difficult universe after choosing back and forth." Bruce said with a bit of disdain.

Schiller shook his head and said, "The situation in that universe is indeed the worst, and Batman's peak period has already passed. If I hadn't gone over, they would have had a really hard time fighting this war. But precisely because their peak periods were staggered, everyone is very independent and their abilities are very strong. As long as there is a little external interference, they can soon stand on their own. So, for that guy to be able to tangle with them until now, it's not bad."

Bruce nodded and said, "There's no oil to be squeezed from Barbatos's side recently; this Dark League is really hard to deal with. Even if he's not very good, I can only make do with using him."

"However, what needs to be noted is that he uses the power of death, which is resurrecting the dead. If you want to use him, you might have to die once first."

"If he can pull me back from heaven and resurrect me, I'll count it as his skill." Bruce curled his lips in disdain and said.

"Then shall I arrange for you to meet?"

Bruce shook his head and said, "It's not the time yet; we need to wait for an opportunity, or rather, you help me create an opportunity."

"Fine." Schiller nodded and said, "I estimate it won't be long before they get anxious. What identity do you plan to appear as?"

"I haven't thought about that either; what do you think?"

"Currently, practical value is more important; they are very short-handed. And they are not very willing to expose their superpowers; they need someone with lethality. Otherwise, why don't you play a supervillain?"

"Are you talking about a superpowered person? That won't work. If I'm too all-powerful, I'll end up doing all the work. It must be the kind of character who doesn't easily make a move, but when they do, it's a guaranteed kill."

"That's the old workhorse you mentioned." Schiller snorted and said.

"You mean the Agent? It seems that might not be impossible..."

"An enforcer won't work either; they probably won't trust you. Better be an assassin." Schiller said, "I will create an opportunity for you to make a move. You just need to pull the trigger; you can shoot accurately, right?"

"Rest assured, I've been practicing my skills well recently." Bruce shook his neck and rubbed his wrists, then said, "That metal shell is too hard to deal with. Sometimes I really doubt if he and I are the same species. If I keep practicing with him like this, I'll almost become Batman again."

Schiller knew he was talking about Arkham Batman. The two of them hadn't been getting along for a while. Arkham Batman was the type who truly never let a grudge go overnight; just in the Battleworld instances, he had crashed into Bruce more times than he could count, and he had climbed the ranks by eating Bruce's points.

Clearly, Bruce was also being pushed to the edge by him. At least he was a former Batman; when he really practiced, he still had some level. Schiller set his mind at ease and said, "Fine, wait for my news."

Afterwards, just as Clark, Diana, and the others guessed, this series of events was all directed by Schiller, including the theft of artifacts and documents, Diana being framed, and the President being assassinated. Purposes like providing pressure or finding evidence that it was a fake were not important. The most important thing was to build a stage for Bruce, let him make his grand entrance, and successfully join the Reaper's team.

Currently, the plan was proceeding very successfully. Amanda was very enthusiastic about Bruce. Although this spymaster had no long-term vision and was very evil, having struggled in this industry for so many years, she was definitely someone who knew quality.

That shot, in the eyes of professionals, was simply earth-shattering. If there were a ranking for professional assassins, Bruce could reach the top of the list with just this one shot, without any pressure.

Such a top-tier person was something even Amanda couldn't find even if she wanted to. Having been in the industry for so many years, she hadn't met such a top-tier assassin yet. Even if it wasn't for assassinating the President, but for her future career, she was naturally attentive and thorough, wishing she could hold Bruce up to the heavens.

Of course, this was mainly because they were already on the same pirate ship that they absolutely couldn't get off. Assassinating the President was too big a deal; Amanda didn't use leverage to threaten people like she used to, precisely because of this. Pulling the trigger to assassinate the President was already the biggest leverage; wouldn't the other party have to be at her beck and call? Giving them a good face wasn't a big deal; maybe she could drag a few more unlucky souls into the water.

Precisely because this leverage was so big, Amanda felt very safe handing the position of main attacker to Bruce. The center of the discussion was also focused on him; everyone else was there to provide cover for him, just so he could fire that final, most critical shot.

But clearly, there were people dissatisfied with such an arrangement. Damian didn't say a word, sitting in his seat, staring fixedly at Bruce. He seemed to be constantly recalling, yet unwilling to let others see it, the expression on his face twisted to the extreme.

You have to know, when Damian was born, Batman was still very young, just about the same age as Bruce. This made him think of that period of time. However, his father couldn't still be this young. Then this young man who was so similar to him might be another one of his father's sons.

Thinking of this, Damian felt a fire in his heart. He clenched his fists tightly. That rainy night, Batman's unmoved attitude and cold words when he saw him, that indifferent way he had—everything had traces to follow.

He had other children, and the other party was more like him, more excellent. A young son who died early wasn't worth lingering over.

No wonder he would say he didn't have long-term vision, would feel that talking to him was a waste of time. Because he had no value anymore; he shouldn't have come back.

"Damian, what do you think? Damian? Damian?" Amanda threw down her pen in dissatisfaction, looked at Damian, and said, "It's work time now; who are you putting on that expression for? If you don't want to participate, get out..."

Damian also threw his pen down and left directly. Amanda stared coldly at his back and said, "Don't worry about him; he'll come back on his own in a while. Let's continue."

After leaving the conference room, Damian didn't know where to go. Although he was a fugitive now, he knew those police officers couldn't catch him, so he left the base on a whim and looked in a certain direction.

A cold wind blew over, and Damian sobered up a little. He realized something was wrong. If that person named Nawei was really Batman's child, how could he become an assassin? And how could he assassinate the President?

You have to know that Batman and Superman had always been on the same side. One told a massive lie, the other worked hard to cover it up; they were simply the best partners. If he killed Superman, it would very likely bankrupt all of Batman's efforts.

Damian suddenly thought of a possibility: could it be that the son who survived also hated him very much?

Yes, such a person, with his mind only on fighting crime, never caring about the consequences. Knowing full well that the Joker was going to throw him off, he still gave him a push. So ruthlessly causing the death of his own biological son, who would like him?

Thinking of this, Damian's heart was filled with twisted pleasure. He was just like that, pushing the people around him away one by one, and then becoming a lonely man. This was his retribution.

Damian took a few deep breaths. No, he had to go back and see. He wanted to see the miserable state of that old bat with his own eyes; he wanted to let him know that this was all his fault.

Damian walked directly toward Gotham. And the place where they were actually wasn't far from New Jersey. It didn't take long for Damian to arrive at Wei En Manor.

He stood outside for a long while, but he couldn't suppress the dark emotions in his heart. After a long while, he climbed over the courtyard wall and entered the living room. As soon as he went in, he saw Batman sitting on the sofa alone.

"Time is still a bit tight," Schiller said, "but it has to be this way. If you really let them invest all their feelings, someone might get hurt."

Damian felt his heart being violently tugged. How could he be so nonchalant, as if he had just gone out to play and was only now returning home, as if he had never left him?

"Batman," Damian called out, "is Nawei your son?"

"Who is Nawei?" Batman asked.

Damian wanted to tell Batman to stop pretending, but on second thought, this was likely an alias. So he said, "I saw a person; he looks very much like you, but he's very young. Is he your son?"

Batman pondered slightly and then said, "You mean Bruce?"

Damian's eyes widened instantly, and his breathing stopped for a moment. He said in disbelief, "You gave him your name?!"

In Western countries, it's very normal for a father and son to have the same name. Or rather, being able to receive the name of a grandfather or father precisely shows their high regard.

The name "Damian" is quite good. Although it means "conqueror" in Latin, believers usually regard it as "angel" or "apostle of the Lord." Usually, such religious names are given with deep expectations. Similar to "Thomas," it can also be considered inheriting the grandfather's name.

However, that guy was actually also called Bruce! Bruce Wei En gave his name to him!

Damian couldn't describe his mood. He felt that all of this was fake. His father couldn't possibly do such a thing. It's like, you think someone is naturally cold and not good at caring, until one day you see how gentle and considerate he is to others, and your entire worldview collapses.

Batman is a good father, Damian also had to admit. He is dutiful, never complains, and gives everything that should be given. Except for that final battle where he didn't perform perfectly, everything else was truly beyond reproach; there was no way to be picky.

But now, he wasn't just dutiful to someone; it was blatant favoritism. And it was after he died; he had no sadness for his departure, quickly found a replacement, and even liked the later one more. This made Damian almost go crazy.

Those dark thoughts surged constantly, but he couldn't produce any other emotions, only trembling uncontrollably, and then burning with uncontrollable, raging anger.