msmithbooks Chapter 115, Section 12: The Cry of the Owl
Chapter 115, Section 12: The Cry of the Owl
Chapter 115, Section 12: The Cry of the Owl
With the roar of the engine, the Beetle wobbled and sped off. Jason jerked the steering wheel, his gaze still fixed on the strange creature.
He wanted to confirm whether the other party posed a threat.
But something chilling happened soon enough. Jason swore the other person was standing still, but just as his gaze passed over the blind spot created by the A-pillar, the other person vanished silently into the night, as eerily as if a frame had been cut from a video clip.
Jason immediately drew his sidearm.
His choice was incredibly wise. Almost simultaneously, the roof of the car suddenly sank, accompanied by a loud bang, and scorching sparks shot out—like the sharp claws of a raptor slicing through the metal roof, leaving five shocking scratch marks.
Bang bang bang!
Jason returned fire, and amidst the deafening gunshot, the bullet pierced the roof of the car and disappeared aimlessly into the darkness.
He was certain he hadn't hit his opponent. The sound of flapping wings gradually faded into the distance, a sound that once made Jason doubt himself—what the hell had he encountered, a person, or a raptor roaming in the night?
Jason floored the gas pedal and sped off, but just as the tattered Beetle was about to leave the parking lot, a dark shadow darted out from the bushes.
This time, the mysterious man made his intentions very clear. He crouched down, revealed his steel claws, and, using the momentum of the vehicle's movement, wolf-like man ruthlessly inserted his finger cots into the car tires.
After pulling off the job, this guy didn't forget to kneel on one knee in a cool pose, while the Beetle behind him, its tires ripped apart, went out of control.
It tumbled headfirst into the flowerbed.
boom!
The hood bounced off the windshield, and thick smoke billowed from the Beetle's engine compartment.
The mysterious man got up and strode toward the beetle, but as he passed the bushes, Jason also pounced out from them.
The mysterious man took a half step back, his agile movements revealing no panic. He turned to the side and caught a heavy punch with his palm.
Jason threw a punch with all his might, but his opponent took the next move with ease.
That's impressive, I must give it my all.
Sensing danger, Jason unleashed a series of aggressive moves: a series of low sweeps to force his opponent away, followed by a high kick to pursue, then close-range fire with his gun, and finally, taking advantage of his opponent's focus on dodging the bullets, he dove down to gather momentum and delivered a powerful knee strike to the head.
Jason's combo was fierce and deadly, but his opponent's counter-move was flawless.
Jump back, dodge and block, and when Jason leaps into the air, time your move perfectly to deliver a spectacular high kick to the head.
His movements were completely different from Qin Wei's heavy, visceral punches. They were brief, swift, and concealed, with each strike having a very small range of motion, except for the final high kick that finished the attack.
Jason, who was airborne, was knocked down, clutching his swollen face as he rolled to his feet. He had barely assumed a boxing stance when the mysterious man swiftly closed in with short jabs, light hooks, and stealthy, rapid low strikes. In just a few rounds, Jason was left without even a chance to retaliate.
They could only hunch over and passively defend themselves by bending their arms.
Keep in mind that this was without the other party using metal claws.
Jason estimated that even disregarding the healing factor, this guy's fighting skills wouldn't be much inferior to Deathstroke's.
Seizing an opening to dodge the swinging punch, Jason successfully circled around to the opponent's side by dodging and diving. But just as he drew his pistol, the gleaming claws sliced through the barrel with deadly force.
"Too weak! You haven't improved at all this year!"
The mysterious man finally spoke, and the familiar voice reminded Jason of someone.
While Jason was still in a daze, the mysterious man had already crept up under him, wrapped one arm around his leg and grabbed his belt with the other, and flipped the muscular young man, who weighed at least 200 pounds, to the ground.
"If I hadn't gone easy on you, you would have died a hundred times over! Before you think about asking others to do anything, you need to hone your skills so you won't be seen as a burden and excluded from the plan!"
"Mr. Wayne!"
This slam finally jolted Jason awake, and he finally remembered where he had heard that familiar voice before.
A year ago at Gotham University’s campus celebration, Mr. Thomas Wayne Jr. was invited to attend, and he represented the university’s judo club to clash with this honorary alumnus. At that time, he was thrown to the ground in the same position.
Jason was unlucky; he wasn't weak, but he always encountered Gotham City's top fighters.
But he should also be thankful that Isaiah Thomas didn't come with murderous intent this time.
"Tomorrow at noon, downstairs at Wayne Tower, dress discreetly and don't get recognized."
"Who are those people?" Jason asked hesitantly, voicing his most pressing question.
"They've been giving him trouble."
"Falcone's men! Why do you think that old lion would help you? He just wanted to use someone to eliminate Maroni. He orchestrated this huge event, and now you've become the ones who stand in the way."
"William is on the right track, and it's wise to continue following in his footsteps, but only if you don't hold him back." Thomas released Jason, giving him one last piece of advice. "Don't tell anyone about tonight, not even William. We'll meet again sooner or later, but not now."
After witnessing Jason leave, Thomas Jr. returned to the old man's side.
With a snap, he broke the hand bone, waking the other person from unconsciousness in an almost cruel way.
The old man, his face contorted with pain from the blood-covered wounds, opened his mouth wide, but under Thomas's gaze, he dared not utter a sound.
"I'm keeping you alive for only one reason."
Thomas Jr. crouched down and looked around at the corpses lying around him.
"Go back and tell Falcone that I will not tolerate anyone interfering in the Wayne family's private affairs. If he shows any threat to the court, I will take action myself. If he oversteps his authority again, the 'Owl's Cry' will descend upon him!"
"Are you ready?"
"Ready!"
Although he said that, Qin Wei's heart was pounding like a drum as he looked at Thomson.
He was used to considering everything carefully and calculating every possible possibility of his actions. But now he was not only going to try using a gun for the first time and killing someone for the first time, but also to kick open the door of Arnold's mansion without wearing a bulletproof vest.
This is absolutely insane. Is this the price we have to pay to take down the Joker?
Qin Wei only had one chance. This time, he not only had to lead the charge in storming the mansion, but also capture Arnold first. Only then would he have enough leverage to negotiate with Johnny. Once he infiltrated the core management team, he would have the opportunity to contact the Joker.
boom!
The battle began with a sniper shot fired from the treetops.
The man in black standing guard on the second-floor balcony clutched his neck and fell over the railing, smashing his head in two on the concrete ground.
Johnny fired two shots, taking down the guards at the door. "Killer Croc" Weylen Jones, carrying a rocket launcher, blasted open the villa's wooden door and yelled at Qin Wei, who was standing nearby, "Hey! New kid, I'll keep a close eye on you. Don't try anything funny during the operation."
There aren't many people qualified to call Qin Wei "Little Huizi," but Wei Lun definitely qualifies. He's a full 7.3 feet tall (about 220cm), shirtless, with two dark gray arms that's thicker than Qin Wei's thighs covered in tattoos. When he walks toward the victim with his fists clenched, the sense of oppression he exudes is no less than that of a brown bear with its back straight.
Qin Wei was already starting to worry. If even a second-rate villain could be so impressive, he really couldn't imagine just how terrifying Bane, who lifted Batman up high, must be.
Of course, if possible, Qin Wei hoped this part of the story would never happen.
Back on the scene, this "elite" squad of dozens of men successfully broke through the first line of defense. Our "Matchstick Marlon" took the lead, wielding a Thompson submachine gun and mowing down a group of soldiers. Perhaps because of his strength, the recoil of the Thompson didn't cause him much trouble, which kept Qin Wei's "gun novice" identity from being exposed.
Under the barrage of fire, all beings are equal. Thomson, amidst the flames, watched as bullets bounced on the second floor, shattering vases, knocking over paintings, and scattering sparks on the railings.
"Wow~ That feels great!"
Qin Wei couldn't help but shout. He then realized that his racing heart earlier wasn't due to fear, but excitement. The destructive urge dormant within him was fully awakened on this indulgent night, and his enemy, bearing the title of drug dealer, meant he had no need for any pity.
He quickly wiped out all the enemies on the first floor almost single-handedly.
"Oh! Johnny~ This is the person you found? Whether he's trustworthy or not, he's definitely crazy!"
Killer Croc grinned, revealing two rows of gleaming gold teeth, and said to Qin Wei, who was frantically changing magazines:
"You little brat! Come on, let's have a contest and see who can take Arnold's head first!"
"Come on! If you lose, I'll take over the 'Crocodile Gang,' how about that?"
Killer Croc was stunned. He hadn't expected his opponent to make such an outrageous demand, which went beyond the bounds of the game and felt like a slap in the face. But this also ignited Killer Croc's competitive spirit.
"Come on, you little brat, if you lose, I'll twist your head off!"