Chapter 4937

The situation in the northern district was indeed as the Deathstroke said. Gang members were everywhere, modern weapons were everywhere, and the firepower was intense. When the Robins first entered, they were all stunned by the explosions.

"This is what you call easy to fight?!" Red Hood roared from the mouth of an alley, "Where the hell did they get rocket trucks?!"

"For him, it really is easy to fight." Red Robin was also ducking for cover, "Deathstroke is an immortal. He can come back to life even after being blown to pieces. I really believed his nonsense!"

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The gang members didn't care about this or that, they just kept up saturation bombing.

Fortunately, Deathstroke wasn't a pushover either. He made a flanking assault, directly taking out the gunners, and then proceeded to destroy that rocket truck.

"Ah, wait!" Red Robin let out a pained cry, "Don't cut it! This thing is still usable!"

Deathstroke sneered: "If it were usable, would I cut it? Non-loot equipment can't be used."

"Brainiac." Harley complained rather dissatisfiedly, "Why can't we use it? Didn't we agree that this realistic game wouldn't restrict abilities?"

"Actually, it can be used." Brainiac explained, "But it requires weapon authorization. You guys never do those investigation missions, so where would you get the authorization code?"

Everyone fell silent. Pamela looked at the agent and said, "You didn't do the missions?"

"I did do them, but the rewards weren't authorization codes," the agent said, "Do you expect my luck to be so good that after just a few missions, I'd get the authorization code to control all the city's rocket trucks?"

Others were also speechless. In this game, nobody here isn't unlucky. It's impossible for someone to just do a few missions and suddenly get an extremely crucial item. This kind of fantasy is completely unrealistic.

The crowd wandered over to the lighthouse. Even Polaris couldn't help but exclaim: "Your base is even smaller than ours."

"But it's easy to defend and hard to attack." The agent said, "When we launched our second assault, we didn't expend much effort, because there was only one direction monsters came from, and they only came in groups, making them very easy to kill."

Arkham Knight turned his head to glance at the sea behind the lighthouse. He always felt things weren't that simple. Near the sea in Gotham, nothing good ever happens. Compared to mermaids, the odds of a Godzilla showing up are higher.

But thinking about these two sword kings, being able to charge through such a dense firepower zone and even complete many missions, even if a few giant octopuses really ran out here, they'd have to chop off a few tentacles from these two.

The lighthouse location was indeed a bit small. After walking in and forming a circle, there wasn't much standing room left. Fortunately, they didn't plan to live here. Deathstroke projected the map onto the wall and then said: "Clearing a path all the way would consume too much strength, so even though it's doable, it's not the best option. I'd rather find a high-speed vehicle, charge straight through the monster horde, and reach the destination directly."

"Besides needing high speed, it also needs to be sufficiently hard," the agent said, "It must be able to withstand bombardment, and also not be ambushed by landmines or such."

"Are you serious?" Nightwing said, "Even if you got a tank, you couldn't achieve this effect, right?"

"I can give the vehicle a shield," Polaris thought for a moment and said, "This would let the vehicle not fear explosions, but speed might not have a good solution. I can fly with the vehicle, but control isn't very precise—ordinary people might get shaken dizzy."

"Then forget it." Red Robin flatly refused. When he went to play in Marvel before, he knew what these mutants were like. Relying on their own and their companions' strong bodies, they didn't consider safety at all. Flying a spaceship on the road, seeing a black hole without braking—comparing their road trip to throwing oneself into a concrete mixer.

Polaris isn't incapable of fine control either; she just doesn't like doing it. Let her be the driver, and she'd mostly just make a magnetic slingshot, directly launching the vehicle from start to finish, because that's fastest and most trouble-free. If everyone else were mutants, that'd be fine—just a bit messy when crawling out. The problem is, besides her and Deathstroke, nobody here can withstand that. Deathstroke comes out dazed for two seconds, so we still need to find a way ordinary people can accept.

"When I was doing missions before, I found that there seems to be a truck in the eastern district," Arkham Knight said, still relatively reliable, "I'm not sure if this has anything to do with the eastern district's boss, but that truck seems pretty good."

Upon mentioning the truck, Tim suddenly understood, he said: "Uncle Jack's eating utensil—that's indeed a good truck. If we can get it, we'll have the best transportation."

"But it's probably not easy either." Nightwing frowned and said, "You're going to fight the Joker over his eating utensil? That's still not as good as just fighting our way through and taking out the boss."

"You guys shouldn't fear the Joker too much." Dick waved his hand, "The more you fear him, the more he intimidates you. I guarantee, if you guys go to his place another day to invite him for barbecue, he definitely won't dare do anything to you."

"Invite him for barbecue?" Red Hood snorted, "Who's the main dish? Me?"

Tim nudged Dick with his elbow to get him to end this somewhat hellish topic. They chatted with Arkham Knight about that previous mission, and then realized this truck and the Joker boss might not actually be together.

But this is also normal. If according to the game's plot setting, the Joker has some relation to the Outer Gods, then giving him a truck would make him unbeatable. So this truck is very likely abandoned, and their chances of successfully getting it are high.

Tim thought and said: "Although the clues don't specify, I know a few places with higher probabilities. Let's first go to the truckers' union, then the dock parking lot, and finally the chemical plant..."

"Wait, shouldn't we go to the chemical plant first?" Red Robin asked. He still has some stereotypical impressions of the Joker—whenever he hears Joker, he thinks of chemical plants.

Tim shook his head and said: "Brainiac moved many heavily polluted chemical plants off Earth. The original ACE Chemical Plant now has little output, and Jack doesn't take much of their work anymore. But the truckers' union is where drivers gather to relax and entertain, and Jack often goes there to play cards. The dock area has a newly opened large supermarket, with plenty of work..."

Although this is favorable information for them, the main universe Robins listening to them talk about the Joker's life like it's common knowledge still found it strange no matter how they listened. Why does it feel like, compared to Batman, this universe's Robins and the Joker are closer?

But thinking about it, it makes sense. There's no Batman here. Bruce is busy causing trouble in the multiverse every day, and when something happens, the Robins go look for the Joker—so doesn't that just make them the Joker's Robins?

At the same time, a strange thought appeared in Nightwing's mind. The Joker is indeed very interested in the Robins, but only if the Robins are Batman's Robins. If these Robins prepare to serve the Joker as Robins, the Joker will absolutely give them a big flying kick and kick them all into the sea, telling them to stay away.

From a realistic standpoint, the Joker couldn't possibly support them either. Although the Robins seem to each have their own jobs, their main income still comes from Batman's pocket money. If they go to rely on the Joker, the first problem they'd face is food. The Joker's wages couldn't support their livelihood. So-called half-grown kids eating their parents poor. If they really teamed up to fight the Joker for food, the Joker might actually starve himself into having no time to bother Batman.

So actually, making the Joker uninterested in them is just them being interested in the Joker. But unfortunately, most universe Robins have too severe a psychological shadow toward the Joker—let alone going to mooch food off him, just looking at him once can make them vomit up last night's meal. Nightwing actually felt a regretful sense of missing a good solution.

"I'll go look for a vehicle." Arkham Knight said. Polaris followed him up. Actually, these two's combat power is already sufficient, but because they're worried about looking in the wrong place, they still need to go with a local. In the end, Harley went with them.

The remaining people chose to go out and clear monsters, because their weapons were really too few. Being able to drop some guns and bullets from fighting gang members is good. With Deathstroke leading, they can happily farm monsters without pressure.

As they fought, the main universe Robins' mindset became somewhat subtle. You say who researched this Deathstroke thing? No wonder Batman also likes to use it. As long as that big sword isn't pointed at yourself, Uncle Zhong is truly strong and handsome, a spokesperson for violent aesthetics.

Only saw Deathstroke jump directly from the rooftop, his big sword dancing so tightly it was impenetrable, like a meat grinder, flying through the alleys. All flesh and blood couldn't get near him—slightly close and they'd be chopped into minced meat, leaving behind only a patch of ground with equipment glinting.

Nightwing and Red Hood, who had taken combat stances, basically had no room to shine. They struggled hard for half an hour, not as good as Deathstroke's one whirlwind slash. Meanwhile, Damian and Red Robin had already started happily licking loot.

The agent is also not to be underestimated. The Robins racked their brains but couldn't figure out how Diana would forge such a weapon. Wonder Woman usually looks gentle, hard to imagine she was in what mental state to forge this micro-scaled tank main cannon and give it to Shiler. Batman even agreed.

What's scarier is the user of this thing. Normally, firing one shot would basically cost half one's mobility. But the agent, the more he fires, the stronger he gets—starting speed a bit slow, after a few shots he's on par with Deathstroke, after a few more shots, Deathstroke isn't as fast as him.

However, these two really don't coordinate well. The agent keeps bumping into Deathstroke, and Deathstroke always can't dodge the agent's gunfire. In open areas it's somewhat better, but once entering alley combat mode, the maximum damage to both comes from each other.

"Why exactly did I want to team up with you?" Deathstroke growled, raising his sword to slash, only to be bumped again by the agent—this wasn't just a stumble, with a bit more force he'd already be in the sea.

"Why exactly did I agree to team up with you?" The agent also sighed. Just now that N-metal big sword was about five centimeters from his scalp. He indeed gets stronger when injured, but only if his head is on his neck—headless horseman won't do.

"No wonder Batman doesn't send the two of them together on missions." Nightwing said, while the Robins in the back were picking up gear and chatting.

"The good news is they also can't team up to fight Batman." Red Robin picked up a helmet, examined it, and said, "Maybe it's because of this that Batman reuses these two."

"Honestly, I really want to train with Deathstroke." Damian clenched his fists and rubbed his palms.

"Forget it." Red Hood strongly objected, "You want Batman to spend money hiring him to beat us? When there's no money, it's fine, but when there is money, he won't hold back—I don't want to lie in bed for two months unable to get up."

"Exactly." Red Robin deeply agreed, "We can take a beating, Batman can spend money, but we absolutely cannot spend money to take a beating."