American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

A deafening broadcast boomed across the empty factory area, accompanied by static and an air of arrogant arrogance.

That was Bain's voice.

"Citizens of Gotham, listen up."

The sound echoed in every corner.

"A dirty rat, driving an outdated toy car and carrying a glaring light bulb, has barged into our territory. Catch them. Live or dead. Bring me that glowing head, and I will grant you divine power."

Shuen paused for a moment, then pointed at his own nose and looked at Bruce.

"Boss, is he talking about me? A blinding light bulb? That's so rude. And why are you a toy car and I'm a light bulb? That's not fair."

Bruce ignored Hugh's complaints, his face turning even darker than the night sky in that instant.

"Get in the car."

"Want to leave? Not so easy."

Jason covered his still stinging eyes and got up from the ground.

He heard the roar of engines in the distance; it was Bane's heavily armed forces, numbering like locusts.

"Shut up and get in the car if you don't want to die here."

Bruce grabbed Jason by the back of his collar and shoved him into the Batmobile.

"I'm not leaving! What we need is buried down there..."

"Shut up, Red Bucket."

The sunflower on Shuen's shoulder suddenly turned its head and sprayed pollen at Jason.

"Those idiots are coming. And what's underground is beyond your control."

Her green leaves plunged into the concrete floor with a sudden, effortless motion, as if slicing tofu.

Goodbye, Bain's Toy Factory.

The ground began to shake violently.

It sounded like some enormous creature was tearing through the earth.

Thick, dark green vines instantly pierced through the foundation of the chemical plant.

The towering storage tanks were overturned like building blocks, and green venom gushed out, igniting upon contact with fire.

boom!

The massive blast wave propelled the Batmobile forward a considerable distance.

Xiu En clutched the only venom canister he had managed to salvage, his entire body pressed against the car window by inertia, his face squashed flat.

"My spoils! I only took one! The rest were all wasted!"

He looked in the rearview mirror at the chemical plant engulfed in a green sea of ​​fire, and his heart ached so much he could hardly breathe.

This is worse than killing him.

The Batmobile's exhaust nozzles unleashed blue flames, forcefully carving a path through the vine-lined road.

The rest of the resistance fighters followed quickly in armored vehicles and motorcycles.

Jason was squeezed into the back of the Batmobile, looking out the window at the apocalyptic scene.

Bain's soldiers were whipped away by the wildly swirling vines, and the armored vehicles were shredded into scrap metal.

"What kind of monsters are you?"

Jason muttered to himself.

He looked at the silent figure in the driver's seat, then at the glowing figure beside him still wailing over a can of venom, and felt as if the world he knew was collapsing.

"I'm Hugh, this is the boss, and that's Pamela."

Xiu En turned around briefly and gave a bright smile.

"Welcome to the Gotham Freaks Tour, Mr. Red Bucket. The ticket was a truckload of Venom, but unfortunately, I can only offer an IOU now."

Half an hour later.

An abandoned subway station in the East District slums.

The Batmobile silently glided into the dark tunnel. This was the rebels' secret stronghold, Jason's lair.

"arrive."

Bruce stopped the car and turned off the engine.

Jason pushed open the car door and stumbled out.

He took off his helmet, revealing a head of black hair damp with sweat, and a conspicuous strand of white hair.

Several young men carrying homemade weapons emerged from the surrounding shadows, warily eyeing the uninvited vehicle.

"Don't shoot!"

Jason waved his hand, his voice hoarse.

"They're considered one of us for now."

Xiu En's gaze passed over the sentry who was dozing off while holding a rusty iron pipe and landed on the mottled wall of the subway station.

There was a yellowed poster with its corners curled up.

The image shows the silhouette of a black bat, with a line of text written in bold red paint below:

【HOPE IS NOT DEAD】

Next to the silhouette was a line of crookedly written text: "Old man, if you're not dead, get out here now, Gotham is doomed."

Wow.

Xiu En let out a meaningful sigh.

He pointed at the poster, then turned to look at Jason, who was trying to hide the red helmet behind his back.

"Did you write that? Old man? And judging by the handwriting, it must have been written a month ago, right? It seems that although someone keeps saying he wants to kill Batman, his actions speak louder than words."

Jason Todd's face instantly turned a deep purplish-red, even redder than his helmet. He lunged forward, trying to block the damn poster with his body.

"Shut up! That's...that's to boost morale! The resistance needs a totem!"

Bruce, who had been silent all along, stepped forward, the metal soles of his armor making a dull thud on the ground.

He stopped behind Jason, his gaze passing over the young man's shoulder to look at the line of small print that had rolled out.

"Your handwriting is terrible."

Batman gave his evaluation.

"And there are some grammatical issues."

"Alright, let's put the touching father-son reunion scene aside for now."

Xiu En slammed the heavy venom canister he was carrying onto the table that had been made from a discarded cable reel.

Several rebel members who were sharing a jar of unidentified paste in a corner jumped up in fright, dropping their spoons.

"I've seen your food, and to be honest, even the rats in Gotham's sewers eat better than this."

Xiu En looked at the military can with a disgusted expression; the label was so worn that the date was no longer legible.

"So I suggest we trade this can of Hercules soda for a decent dinner. Do you have hot pot? Or barbecue would be fine too. As long as it's not some kind of vomit-like mess."

A young rebel with engine oil smeared on his face mustered his courage and walked over. He glanced at the can that was emitting a green glow, then at Xiu En, and shook his head frantically.

"That stuff... that's the devil's urine. Drinking it will turn you into a monster that only knows how to kill, and you'll eventually explode and die. We may be poor, but we don't want to die."

"Tch, you don't know what's good for you."

Xiu En rolled his eyes and hugged the venom canister back to his arms. This was hard currency, how did it turn into pee?

Although the business deal fell through, the rebel did not leave.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out his hand, stopping about ten centimeters away from Xiu En.

"How do you emit light? Don't you need batteries?"

In this perpetually dark, damp, and gloomy underground ruin, Xiu En's radiance, though obscured by his trench coat, was like a fireplace in winter.

More and more rebels surrounded them.

Most of them were teenagers, wrapped in tattered blankets, with a simple longing in their eyes.

"Wow, it's so warm."

A little girl boldly touched the hem of Xiu En's trench coat and then let out a comfortable sigh.

Xiu En stiffened for a moment.

"Tsk, a bunch of ignorant brats who've never seen the world."