Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 196: A Battle Without Interaction (Votes Requested)
Rumble!
The sound of a train entering the station rang out, and Batman felt a terrifying gust of air rushing towards him. The headlights magnified in front of his eyes. If he didn't respond, he would be smashed to pieces by this steel behemoth.

At this moment, his vision quickly took in the surrounding environment, and he proposed one survival plan after another, which was repeatedly rejected, while the train was getting closer and closer.

"Use the hook gun to pull me to the top of the tunnel. There's too little time. It's too late."

"I could have jumped back onto the stage, but it was impossible. Deadshot and Deathstroke were up there, and they knew I could do it, and they wouldn't let me."

"Ma Zhaodi—he can ensure that Little Floyd and Slade's attacks are not fatal, but the shattering of bones caused by the train is likely not to be counted as part of their attack."

"Jump back into the smoke and let Deadshot and Deathstroke's attacks hit me?"

"Or, if Ma Zhaodi cooperates with me at this moment, then there's no need for this."

While he was thinking, time finally ran out, and the staggering Batman fell on the railroad tracks. At the same time, a strong wind blew past the three of them from behind, blowing away the white mist.

After falling down, Batman quickly turned over and lay directly on the railroad tracks, tightening his body, sticking completely to the bottom of the track, and turning his head to the side.

With a rumbling sound, the train finally entered the station. In the little space under the train and above the sleepers, Batman had a blank expression on his face, but his heart was beating wildly. The bottom of the train passed by almost sticking to his cheeks and body skin, and the turbulent airflow and vibrations surrounded him.

He was thankful that the train chassis at the central station was high enough. Otherwise, he wouldn't have fallen directly onto the tracks, but would have spread his cloak, hoping that Ma Zhaodi would coordinate with him and blow him away with his trefoil.

But he didn't do that in the end. Putting life and death in the hands of others was not in line with his style.

Half a minute later, the train slowly slowed down and finally came to a complete stop. Batman climbed out from under the train, but he could no longer see Deathstroke, Deadshot, or Ma Zhaodi.

These three people either changed the place to fight or called off the battle.

Batman then searched the scene and found a total of four people affected by the crossfire between the two men. None of their injuries were serious. There was no doubt that Ma Zhaodi secretly treated them while the three were fighting.

On the other side, Deathstroke and Ma Zhaodi drove a stolen car towards the East District where the Riddler was.

"Tomorrow? Still fighting?!"

Ma Zhaodi's eyes widened. "Are you serious? Can you not fight me? I pretended to be dead today, so this trick definitely won't work next time."

"Then you'd better find a way to keep yourself alive." Deathstroke replied calmly: "Soldiers carrying out a mission are only allowed to have two results: success or death."

"What about facing Batman?"

“He is the exception.”

"walk slowly."

At this point, Ma Zhaodi took out the signal jammer—the same thing he did when he rescued Chuck: "I kind of want to ask you a question."

Deathstroke looked at the shield in his hand and asked, "What's the problem?"

"If someone offered you money to carry out the Riddler's orders, conditionally, without betraying him, would you agree?"

"Ok?"

Death Bell glanced at Ma Zhaodi and replied, "It depends on whether the price he offers is high enough."

"Let me ask this another way. If someone were to pay you, would you cancel the Riddler's contract?"

Deathstroke's answer remained the same: "It depends on whether the price he offers is high enough."

"Five times?"

"At least ten times. Whether I accept it or not depends on my mood."

"That's quite expensive. I guess Deadshot has the same conditions, right?"

Deathstroke heard his sigh and asked instead, "He might be cheaper - now, how much are you going to pay to keep me quiet?"

Ma Zhaodi replied, "It's a bit expensive for me, but in the eyes of some wealthy people, this might be a great deal. I'll help you connect, can you give me a share? You decide how much."

"One in a thousand." "No problem."

Damn, Deathstroke cursed in his heart for the first time. He just gave too much share to this kid. He just wanted to make as much as he could.

the next day.

bang!

bang!

"Gift Crab"

Ma Zhaodi huddled in the bunker, scratching his pumpkin head, holding a large bulletproof shield riddled with bullet holes in his hand. This was something he had specifically asked Deathstroke to prepare for him after he returned. Facts had proved that this was a very wise choice.

"Do you have to fight him?!" he shouted to Deathstroke over the communicator. "He only picks on me and beats me!"

"If you run over there like you did yesterday, you'll only end up in his designated home ground."

Deathstroke responded calmly: "A whole night is enough time for him to lay counter-traps in the entire nearby block. Do you want to go over and taste his bombs?"

Ma Zhaodi sighed: "Then why didn't he hit you?"

"I can heal myself, you can't—and you're challenging his professionalism."

"Fuck, why is this guy so vindictive?"

On the other side, Death Shooter stared at Ma Zhaodi behind the rock through an infrared sniper scope. This was a scope he specially prepared to help him see through the black robe.

"Fuck, why is this guy so cowardly?"

He fired more than ten shots at the perverted cyclist yesterday, but still failed to kill him. He was even fooled by the other party's fake death. So when he saw Ma Zhaodi jumping around and retreating with the Deathstroke, his mentality changed a little.

He, Deadshot, a top marksman who is one with his gun, one of the world's most deadly mercenaries, a super criminal who fought Deathstroke with his mortal body, a top warrior with a tough mind and hundreds of battles -

However, he failed to kill a third-rate villain with more than a dozen shots, and was even fooled by the other party by faking his death.

Little Floyd couldn't bear this kind of anger, so he specifically targeted Ma Zhaodi and shot him today, just to see if the other party was not afraid of bullets - if he was a superhuman like Deathstroke, then Deathstroke would be relieved.

They were at an intelligence disadvantage from the start, so it was normal to be deceived. After all, bullets can only deal with flesh and blood. For zombies like Solomon Grundy who have no vital points, or for opponents like Killer Croc whose skin and flesh are like bulletproof vests, special bullets must be made specifically for this purpose to be effective.

"Cease fire, you two!"

Batman rushed to the battlefield again, and Deadshot immediately put away his gun and moved away. He originally wanted to lure Deathstroke to a medium distance to engage in a firefight with an automatic rifle, but Batman kept chasing him for some reason, which made his plan fail.

Day Three

bang!

Death Shot pulled the trigger, and the bullet bounced three times and hit the shield in Ma Zhaodi's hand behind the bunker again.

Little Floyd sighed and finally let the other person go, and let himself go.

Why bother? This guy is only insulting and harmless. Why not just snipe the nearby Deathstroke? That guy will at least chop him down with a knife and fire back with a gun a few times, showing respect and giving himself a sense of interaction.

After a whole day of beating an impenetrable wooden stake, I felt like vomiting.
"Floyd, stop!"

"Are you done yet?"

Deadshot rolled on the ground, dodging Deathstroke's bullet, only to be met with Batman's batarang. He angrily fired two bursts of bullets backhandedly: "You only know how to hit me, why don't you hit Slade?"

He was responded with Batman's flashbang.

PS: One more update, the last update tonight

(End of this chapter)