What's wrong with Superman's brother wanting to be Homelander?

Chapter 90 Batman and Lucas

The stone gate shattered with a crash, and the ninja on guard was sent flying inside, blood gushing from between his eyebrows; he was dead beyond any doubt.

"Sizzle!"

Deathstroke's broadsword clashed against the rocky ground, sparks flying, as he indifferently pointed it at Lars on the high platform.

"Slade Wilson, I didn't expect you to dare come back."

Lars recognized Deathstroke at a glance.

It wasn't because of that combat suit, which was as flashy as Deadpool's but clearly more sophisticated.

The Deathstroke One combat suit that Slade wore was custom-made after he joined the ranks of mercenaries.

Lars was able to identify Slade entirely by his aura.

"Letting you escape from here is already a mercy from the Alliance; you shouldn't come back."

Lars squinted, staring at the death knell.

The silver-white goatee that fell to his chest swayed gently in the breeze, gleaming with a pale, cold light, perhaps due to years of soaking in the Lhasa Road Pool.

He did not act rashly.

As one of the League's top assassins, Lars knew Deathstroke's strength all too well.

Letting them leave the alliance was not out of kindness.

Slade's actions constitute a double betrayal: developing personal relationships, disobeying the leader's orders, and defecting from the alliance.

Any one of these three points, taken individually, would result in execution.

The reason for leaving it unattended is simply that in a one-on-one situation, no one can confidently guarantee that they can successfully eliminate the other party.

The alliance has real, important matters to resolve, and it's impossible to send out all its core members, such as the seven assassins and top elders, just to hunt down a traitor.

Therefore, he had no choice but to turn a blind eye.

But if the other party takes the initiative to set foot in the sacred highland, that's a different story.

"Slade Wilson, you betrayed the Alliance and defied the Chief, your crimes are unforgivable. You've come here to beg for my forgiveness, or to die by my hand."

Lars squinted, his gaze sharp and intimidating.

His eyes were deep-set and narrow, and the shadows made them look fierce.

The most striking feature is her bare brow bone, with not a single eyebrow hair, giving her a somewhat effeminate appearance.

aside.

Bruce Wayne was also taking a look at the sudden appearance of Deathstroke.

He sensed a deep-seated apprehension from Lars, which only fueled his curiosity.

But Bruce's gaze also lingered on the dead ninjas, his brow furrowed.

Having been a wanderer for so long, he has come to a profound understanding of a principle.

That is, killing will eventually corrupt anyone. This is a bottom line between life and death. Once crossed, there is no turning back. All enemies should be handed over to the judicial system for trial. No matter how evil the criminal is, no one should be taken away.

Deathstroke's actions disgusted him.

"I think there should be a third option, which is to use your head as a ball. The waters of Lhasa Road will only breed your arrogance. Lars, you should step down."

"No, you want to avenge the Bronze Tiger."

Lars Al Gur's tone was flat, revealing no surprise, only a hint of scrutinizing indifference.

Having lived for nearly a thousand years, he had seen far too many defectors and avengers who returned with overwhelming hatred.

They all wanted to replace me, and they all hated themselves, but what was the result?

Slade's counterattack was nothing more than the last struggle of a trapped beast.

Without any warning, David Cain, who had been silent, suddenly moved.

As a highly skilled tool stripped of all emotions and automatically executing killing orders, he has no extra lines or nonsense.

All it took was a glance from Lars.

David Cain knew exactly what to do.

There was no probing.

Discarding all unnecessary moves, he tightened his palms like knives, aiming straight for the nerve puncture point on the side of Deathstroke's throat.

The movements are short, fast, and decisive; each strike is a killer block.

The death knell had already been prepared in advance.

As a "veteran" of the Assassin's Guild, he was well aware of what he was about to encounter.

"Pfft!"

The broadsword cleaves through the air with a single, unpretentious strike, relying solely on overwhelming power and a primal instinct for killing honed through countless life-and-death experiences.

The blade tore through the air, aimed straight at David Cain's neck.

Leveraging its length advantage.

Before the opponent can lock down Slade's life, he will be killed.

David Cain expressionlessly withdrew his attack and stepped back, simultaneously tapping his left foot out and using the rebound from the stone wall to move sideways several meters away.

"Disobeying the leader and openly rebelling against your superiors, you will not escape today."

David Cain said coldly.

"Swish, swish, swish——"

Under the flickering light of the ever-burning copper lamps on the stone wall.

One by one, ninjas with black veils on their faces leaped out of the shadows, their blades gleaming cold silver in the lamplight.

A man with a composite longbow slung across his back and short arrows hanging from his waist, his entire face covered by a leather mask, revealing only a pair of emotionless gray eyes.

A right hand holding a cold, metallic hook.

A person holding a small, curved knife about the length of a palm in each hand.

A pair of standard modified pistols slung across his shoulder, his waist stuffed with magazines and silencers.

There was also a bulging, bomb-like object covered in large and small pottery jars, next to which stood a burly man, over two meters tall, with thick, alloy claw prosthetics covering his arms.

The last one was the only woman.

She had a slender and tall figure, and her tight black outfit accentuated her physique. In her hand, she held a multi-meter-long segmented alloy whip, the blade of which was covered with fine blades that made a piercing, crisp sound.

It was the seven assassins of the Assassin's Guild, a seven-man squad.

The seven people had clear roles and went all out from the start.

With ranged bows and pistols for distraction, whip-wielding woman for restraint, claw-wielding heavy armor for frontal suppression, dual swords for close-quarters combat, explosive attacks to block movement, and hooks for back attacks, Deathstroke's evasive options are completely locked down from all angles.

However, Deathstroke had a clear goal. He had developed his brain to ninety percent, and like a walking human computer, he knew how to break the deadlock.

"Pfft!"

Ignoring the sharp spikes on the whip, he grabbed the long whip that the female assassin was pulling at him, and then pulled hard, causing her to fall backwards in the instant she lost her balance.

He quickly drew his pistol and fired, "Bang!"

The bullet pierced the woman's heart instantly.

With the woman no longer bothering him, Deathstroke immediately broke free from the seven men's encirclement.

The moment he broke free, he charged straight at Lars.

David Cain strikes again.

Lars sat on his high seat, watching the battle below with an expressionless face, looking completely confident of victory.

"You're too old, you're too slow."

Despite being chopped in the ribs by David Cain's hand chop, Deathstroke grabbed the man's left hand, his broadsword flashing, tearing through the man's samurai uniform and leaving a bloody gash.

Deathstroke, having gained the upper hand, stood with his sword drawn, pressing down hard, intending to cut his opponent in two.

"Clang clang!"

At the critical moment, Bruce suddenly rushed forward, thrusting his longsword horizontally.

It thwarted Deathstroke's fatal blow.

With his superhuman learning ability, Bruce has mastered many of the Assassin Brotherhood's signature skills.

In terms of actual combat ability, he is in no way inferior to anyone present.

Although he could not agree with Lars's inhuman ideas.

However, he also disapproved of Deathstroke's indiscriminate killing.

In their eyes, those human lives were like rice paddies, utterly worthless.

Not to mention, David Cain also had a subtle mentor-student relationship with him.

Under the full-coverage headgear.

Deathstroke narrowed his eyes and gave Bruce a deep look.

"act recklessly."

Just then.

Lars suddenly launched an attack.

With a flick of his sleeve, a slender silver dagger was instantly drawn from its sheath.

The speed is extremely fast.

Deathstroke hastily raised his hand to block.

clang-!

A piercing metallic clang echoed through the cavern, wide enough to fit several football fields.

Slade was so shocked that he stumbled back three steps.

Lars, however, merely slumped slightly on his shoulders, remaining perfectly still on the high platform.

Soaking in the Lhasa Pool for centuries has comprehensively strengthened and enhanced his body. His strength and recovery ability are now no less than those of Deathstroke, who was injected with the marked soldier serum.

Add to that a lifetime of combat experience and fighting skills ingrained in their very being —

This is the reason why Lars can sit firmly on the throne of the Assassin's Creed leader.

"You think you can get revenge on me in your current state?"

Lars looked down at them with an indifferent gaze, as if looking down on ants, and his tone was filled with extreme arrogance.

"The Assassin's Guild has no room for personal feelings, only for obedience. Anyone who dares to disobey deserves to be destroyed."

The death knell fell silent, pressing down once more.

The swords slashed horizontally, vertically, and thrust, attacking Lars from all angles.

Lars remained expressionless throughout.

His moves, though simple, were exceptionally precise.

It seems that Deathstroke's attack trajectory can be predicted in advance every time.

Parry, dodge, counterattack—all were executed at the most critical moments.

Calm and elegant.

With the help of others, Deathstroke was quickly defeated.

Suddenly, Lars transformed his palm into a claw and grabbed at the chest of the zombie.

Slade grunted and flew backward, only to be immediately caught by the other assassins.

"Chief, should we execute him on the spot?" David Cain stepped forward and asked.

"No need."

Lars shook his head and looked at Bruce.

"Did you see that?"

"If you harbor pity and cling to so-called bottom lines, you will only be torn apart by the enemy and completely swallowed up by the corrupt world, leaving not even bones behind."

"Complete the trial and take control of the Alliance. You will then have the power to judge all evil, and will no longer have to passively endure helplessness."

This is the final recruitment attempt, and also the final test.

Bruce's eyes shimmered with light and shadow.

Rainy nights in Gotham, images of parents lying in pools of blood, the endless darkness and chaos of Gotham's underbelly, revenge, assassination, and profit—all flashed through my mind.

He became even more determined in his original intentions.

Using killing to stop killing only leads to killing itself.

This is never salvation.

I will never agree with your ideas.

Bruce's voice was deep and firm, without the slightest wavering.

Lars snorted and looked at David Cain: "Cripple his limbs. Let him go back alive and tell all the ants in Gotham who dare to provoke the League of Assassins—the price of provoking the League of Assassins is eternal damnation."

"Furthermore, you will immediately take your men and head to Gotham. Purge that Penguin Gang and crush any forces that dare to interfere in the affairs of the Alliance."

"By the way, find out what's behind the destruction of the outposts. To be able to wipe out two of my vanguard outposts in one night, Gotham has something more interesting to hide than I expected."

"Yes, sir."

"No need to check anymore."

Just then, a deep, hoarse voice pierced through the broken stone door.

The wind suddenly stopped, and all eyes in the cave instinctively turned to the entrance.

Lucas slowly walked into the cave, the chill of the iceberg rushing in with him.

The shadow armor, a deep green and scarlet, gleamed coldly in the firelight.

Standing over three meters tall and enveloped in crimson lightning, he looked like a legendary god.

This scene caused Lars's pupils to shrink sharply.

Centuries of combat instincts made him feel an extreme pressure approaching.

Bruce frowned.

For some reason, he had a vague feeling that he should recognize this figure.

Lucas glanced silently at Deathstroke lying on the ground.

The other party wanted to try to go it alone, but as it turned out, this was not a reliable strategy.

Of course, given Deathstroke's intelligence, he must have guessed this as well.

It seems more like the other party is venting their anger in this way.

Despite the fact that Bronze Tiger had targeted him many times, the friendship between the two was the most precious thing to him during his period of confusion.

Lucas looked at Lars standing on the high platform from afar, and with a casual wave of his hand, a red electric current shot out instantly.

The leader, who had ruled the Assassin's Guild for nearly a thousand years, didn't even let out a wail before falling heavily from the high platform.

However, in the instant he fell to the ground, he saw a transparent shadow, resembling a soul, fly out from Lars's body, then flash by and disappear into the air.

This sudden turn of events left not only the remaining assassins dumbfounded, but also Bruce.

"Father, you killed my father! I will have revenge! Ah!"

Talia, who had been hiding in the shadows, rushed out, her beautiful and sculpted face filled with grief and indignation, and charged at Lucas with a dagger in hand.

"No, Talia."

Bruce's expression changed drastically, and he quickly stopped Talia.

Even Lars was instantly killed; any enemy rushing in would only be throwing their lives away.

"Let me go, I want revenge!" Talia twisted her body frantically, trying to break free from Bruce's grasp.

But she was just a woman, and her power was ultimately far less than that of Batman, who was nearing his full potential.

"I really like revenge stories, but I especially love stories about two people who can't be together."

Lucas's gaze calmly shifted from Talia and Bruce to David Cain. "Where is the Pool of Lazarus?"

But unfortunately—

"To avenge the leader."

David Cain was clearly too brainwashed; he roared and charged forward.

Lucas stared expressionlessly at his opponent, who seemed ready to die.

In the instant it charged forward, a gigantic, blood-red python suddenly emerged from the shadows, its gaping maw, filled with fangs, opening wide and swallowing the attacker whole.

next moment.

Lucas's eyes flashed with crimson lightning in an instant.

The beam of light cut straight into the stone wall, immediately leaving a horizontal cut mark, and swept over the remaining six assassins in the blink of an eye.

The moment they came into contact with the crimson lightning beam, the assassins' bodies were instantly sliced ​​open and melted by the extreme heat and violent power.

Blood and various fragmented human tissues splattered everywhere.

Bruce's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, and his hands, hidden in the cuffs of his cape, clenched tightly.

This indifferent and violent attitude towards life sent chills down his spine.

These people are assassins, killers, or perhaps villains with their hands stained with sin.

But there was no trial, no detention, and no opportunity for redemption.

They were crushed into blood and flesh in an instant simply because they were enemies.

Power overrides rules.

The strong decide life and death at will.

What gives rise to such a powerful and authoritarian regime that tramples on all bottom lines?

>