【 General Anh My 】 Great Pursuit At The Next Door

Clark ripped open his neckline, feeling like he was about to suffocate, even though he didn't actually have to breathe.

Just now, they and a large group of Gotham reporters with extraordinary combat effectiveness crowded in front of the hotel, trying to take pictures of the rich people, trying to win tomorrow's headlines with the best or most curious angles. squeezed directly into the red carpet even more, trying to pass the microphone to the lips of the rich.

But the rich are not stars, and their bodyguards are quite powerful, and they press those reporters back.

Clark painfully asked his temporary partner Ofan, "Is this how all the reporters on your entertainment page come over?" Ofan

: "Not only that, but you have to compete with the fans a lot of times

!" "Luthor is coming

!" In the shouting, Clark raised the camera with his height advantage, clicked and took a bunch of photos, and just put down his hand, he heard people screaming: "It's Oliver Quinn!"

The small-town boy was really not used to such an occasion, he exhaled heavily, and Ou Fan, a temporary photography partner next to him, asked intimately: "If you are really uncomfortable, just go out for a while." "

Clark thanks him for his kindness, but—" Mr. Wayne hasn't played yet, and we can't afford to miss this. It's

hard to say which is more attractive, the conscientious rich man or the gossip-ridden playboy, but mainly for the Met, Lex shows his face in the media all day long, which is a little bit fresh, and Bruce Wayne is not his own city after all, so there is a little bit of "distance produces beauty" flavor.

The little reporter held his breath for a long time in the crowd and frenzy before waiting for the windy Rolls-Royce to gallop away. He immediately followed the crowd and raised the camera, and the spotlight shone on the three people. Clark looked closely, and Bruce Wayne, whom he had seen in the newspaper, was holding a beautiful woman in a mermaid dress, followed by a young boy in a suit.

It is said that he is Mr. Wayne's adopted son, but they are all black-haired and blue-eyed, and the reporters have long arranged their identities from illegitimate children to mother-in-law literature.

Under the protection of the bodyguards, the playboy discharged his electricity at the reporters and strode towards the hotel. At this time, his gaze swept over the crowd, and suddenly he saw a reporter who seemed to have no sense of presence. He wears black-rimmed glasses, looks obedient, and takes advantage of his height to hold the camera very high.

Bruce Wayne nodded over there, causing another commotion, and then walked into the hotel in style. Of course, the reporters wanted to go in together, it was a rich people's drinking party, but the bodyguards were quite dedicated and stopped them all.

Ofan pulled Clark forward, squeezed in front of the bodyguards, showed the ID provided by the Planet Daily, and entered the hotel smoothly. Looking at Clark's surprised expression, Ou Fan said proudly: "We are the Planet Daily, and this kind of drinking party will usually give us two places."

Then, Clark saw several other reporters and photographers crowd in, as if they were Luthor's reporters. They walked into the employee elevator and saw that Wayne Enterprises' own corporate reporter had gone up.

Clark sighed: Is this a "control review"? But it is so strictly controlled, how did all those messy lace news and even negative news come about?

He cautiously shrank in the corner to reduce his sense of existence. At this time, his mobile phone vibrated a little, and he quietly took out his mobile phone to see that it was Anthony who sent him "good night".

Why did you go to bed so early today? Clark didn't think much about it, replied "good night", put the phone away, and continued to pretend to be a turtle.

However, when he entered the venue, Ou Fan was not allowed to be a turtle, and although the rich people did not allow them to shoot something out of the ordinary, it was also good to be able to take

pictures of the edges! The reporters were only allowed to walk around the edges, and Clark wandered around and took some very ordinary photos of conversations. Luthor used to be always in the center of the crowd, but now it seems that Wayne has been divided quite a bit. Or, in turn, Luthor took away some of Wayne's "popularity."

Neither was Mr. Quinn's side, but he seemed to be paddling a little and trying to get into the corner.

Ou Fan looked at his loot and was very dissatisfied with his ability to capture the news: "You filmed... Alas, it's so impactless!Look at this one of mine!"

Clark looked at Wayne's misplaced kissing photo with a beautiful Middle Eastern woman, and sighed that Ovan really knows how to find angles.

Ou Fan saw that his face was not good, and asked him to go out to breathe. This time Clark didn't refuse, slipped out of the living room, and ran to the window sill opposite. The windows are open here, and a little spring night rain drifts in, and it's cool.

There was another man here, whom Clark recognized as the teenager who had just followed Mr. Wayne. The boy noticed someone coming and turned to look at him. Clark found him holding a plate of macarons and a glass of... Clark

frowned and said softly, "If you're underage, you can't drink." The

boy's blue eyes widened: "This is the lowest degree... Well, I won't drink it, and you must not tell Bruce. The

two of them lay on the windowsill in the rain. The boy is very self-acquainted, claims to be called Richard, and lives with Bruce. He slipped out because it was too boring inside, and Bruce wouldn't allow him to drink.

"You're a reporter from the Metropolitan?"

"yes, my name is Clark Kent.

Clark saw Richard's strange smile, and quickly put it away again, transforming it into a normal naughty smile.

"I want to slip away, can you accompany me?"

Clark shook his head: "My work is not done yet, I can't leave." And, if you're leaving, tell your guardian that Gotham is dangerous. "Although there is Batman, Batman can't take care of such a big city...

Richard pouted: "Your man... Did anyone in the family say that you are a little... Like an old mother

?" "Is there one?" Clark touched his face, he had talked about Anthony's diet, but as long as Anthony was coquettish or insisted on eating, he never stopped him.

Clark stayed for more than ten minutes and then went back, he took such a high overtime pay, and he kept paddling as if he was a little uncomfortable. He picked up the camera, and as soon as he took a picture, he caught a black shadow flashing outside the window.

It's more than 20 floors!Clark

was sure he wasn't dazzled, and the photographs confirmed that. He was vigilant, almost all of the rich and powerful people here seemed to be high-risk people. He held the camera and quietly approached the toilet.

A minute later, a gunshot rang out, which captured everyone's attention. Clark turned his head and saw a group of big men with guns rushing in, surrounding the entire living room, and then a tall, thin guy walked in.

"Surprise!"

everyone stopped making noises, and the ladies who wanted to scream covered their mouths tightly.

Clark slowly bent down to lower the camera to the ground, it was a precious thing, and he didn't want to break it. Then he crouched on the ground and looked at the guy who looked like he was very important.

Green hair, face that seems to have been painted by the walls, a distorted smile... Obviously, this is the clown who can stop children crying at night even in Metropolis, and he is also one of the characters who is used to prove that Metropolis is happy and healthy, and Gotham is in dire straits.

"Today is really full of friends, and it looks like I have another chance to meet new people. Shall we play a game? Sure, this beautiful lady—"

Clark crouched on the ground and crept towards the toilet door, enduring Ofan's condemning gaze. Then, he saw President Wayne, who was also rubbing over in a very unimpressive posture.

The two looked at each other for a second, and Clark made a "please" gesture to him. Mr. Wayne unceremoniously went in first, and a dozen seconds later, while the Joker was screaming for the people to find the bomb in the parlor within ten minutes, Clark slipped into the bathroom.

Mr. Wayne is gone, probably gone. Clark struggled to squeeze out the toilet window and called 911. The other side was quick to pick up, and when he heard that it was a clown, the voice began to tremble.

Clark, who had always been polite, finally rolled his eyes. What kind of place is this? Are so many bodyguards with guns just decorations? Are the street gangs so rampant that they run straight to the media? The rich man slipped away really fast, and he didn't see his son with him! 911 couldn't be trusted!

Batman worked hard.