American Comics: BOSS Invasion

The entire Blackgate Penitentiary had gone mad, with prisoners rioting everywhere.

They wielded weapons, venting their pent-up anger in a frenzy.

Less than a hundred meters from where they emerged, the two encountered five or six corpses, each in a gruesome state. Some were mutilated beyond recognition, others had mouths agape, eyeballs bulging, clearly having endured immense fear before death.

Judging by their attire, they were all prison guards.

The two proceeded, seemingly indifferent to the carnage.

Amidst the chaotic corridors, they swiftly navigated the crowds with agile and gentle steps, breaching two layers of security before directly locating the staircase leading upwards.

Penguin wasn't lying; he was indeed intimately familiar with the prison's layout.

He led Qishan through a maze of main roads and back alleys, eventually guiding them directly from the infirmary into the warden's office.

It was considerably quieter here. Looking out the window, one could still see a constant stream of prisoners surging outwards like ants from a disturbed nest.

Occasionally, an unlucky guard would be seized by the prisoners, subjected to sadistic torture, their laughter and screams intermingling in a disturbing symphony.

"Give me a minute!"

Penguin left Qishan and went straight to a hidden compartment in the warden's office. Inside was a small lounge. He rummaged through the wardrobe and pulled out a complete set of suits and an umbrella.

He quickly shed his orange prison jumpsuit, tearing open the suit's packaging.

He donned each item, one by one, and within a minute, the prisoner Penguin had transformed back into the mob boss Penguin.

Although Qishan remained expressionless, he was inwardly surprised.

Truly, worthy of being one of Gotham's four great families. Even in decline, they still wielded unimaginable influence.

To casually have his clothes and equipment delivered to the warden's office.

Qishan had no interest in watching a man change clothes, especially one with a deformed physique.

He placed the single-soldier rocket launcher on the table, paused in thought, then suddenly extended a finger and gently tapped the launcher.

A ripple spread outwards, followed by a green mist.

The single-soldier rocket launcher visibly corroded from the middle towards both ends, and in just 30 seconds, the weapon of mass destruction had turned into a pile of scrap.

Then, something even more miraculous happened.

After the green mist adhered to the blackboard, it gradually transformed into a silvery liquid metal.

Like cereal soaking in milk, although covered by the liquid, one could still see fine solid particles beneath the surface.

Moreover, as the liquid metal flowed, these small metal solids were gradually disintegrating, rapidly merging into the entire liquid metal mass.

After waiting for about ten seconds, Qishan reached out and tapped the table. The liquid metal converged towards the center, astonishingly forming the shape of a revolver at a visible speed.

From a rough outline, liquid solidification, to the revolver taking shape, the entire process took only two or three seconds. As if in the blink of an eye, a lump of liquid metal had transformed into a bright silver python revolver.

"Cool!"

Penguin exclaimed.

Qishan glanced back at him, Penguin's eyes gleaming as he stared intently at the revolver.

Qishan reached out, picked up the revolver, skillfully twirled it, opened the cylinder, and glanced inside. It contained six bullets of the same material.

"Who exactly are you? A magician? Or a madman from Arkham?"

"Mr. Cobblepot, curiosity can be fatal!"

Qishan replied indifferently.

He tucked the gun under his armpit, where a holster had inexplicably appeared, perfectly accommodating the entire revolver.

Qishan buttoned up his suit, leaving no trace on the exterior.

Penguin's eyes flickered, but he didn't say anything more.

"Although I don't know what your purpose is! But you certainly helped me tonight. If you need anything, you can come to the Iceberg Lounge to find me!"

"I will!"

After saying that, the two exchanged a glance, and after going out the door, they parted ways.

Gotham is a city perpetually shrouded in gloom.

Although prosperous, it easily breeds crime.

Qishan wasn't sure what time period it was, but it didn't stop him from appreciating Gotham's normal state.

Qishan landed directly in the port district.

Although this area was close to the central business district, the population was sparse, and the level of chaos was two levels higher than the city center.

In less than 200 meters, Qishan saw at least ten cases of robbery and murder.

The streets were in chaos, with wrecked vehicles everywhere.

Crowds of people were running around crazily, or frantically fleeing like neurotics. Many people were dragging bloodstained bodies and seeking help, but the doors of the houses on both sides were tightly locked.

These homeowners seemed even more nervous, usually holding double-barreled shotguns by the windows. Once someone approached, whether it was an assailant or a fugitive, they would raise their guns in warning.

Experience living in this city told them not to trust anyone.

Gunshots, pleas for mercy, roars of anger, shouts, screams, explosions, and the crackling of burning fires.

Various sounds mixed together, combining with the thick smoke, the smell of blood, and the unique stench of the port district, forming the unique flavor of evil.

Gothamites were exceptionally fierce. They were not only ruthless when killing their own people, but they also seemed fearless when facing aliens.

When Steppenwolf descended, Parademons swept across the globe, but it seemed only the citizens of Gotham had the courage to resist.

These people didn't care whether you were an alien or an otherworlder. As long as you dared to cause trouble, they would dare to shoot.

Not far away, on the big screen in the commercial center, the chaos in the city center was being broadcast.

In the footage, a group of thugs dragged a wealthy man out of his mansion and hammered him into a bloody pulp.

After venting their negative emotions, they unhesitatingly turned on their companions. A chaotic barrage of gunfire left the gang of thugs dead or wounded.

The sound was too noisy to hear what the host was saying.

At this moment, a Sidewinder rocket suddenly soared into the sky, blasting a helicopter into fireworks.

The big screen instantly went black, then switched back to the broadcast studio, where the host solemnly delivered a eulogy.

Qishan shook his head, too lazy to pay attention to any of this.

He now needed a temporary foothold, and to figure out what exactly had happened. Only after collecting intelligence could he decide how to proceed.

Qishan looked around, chose a house that looked relatively pleasing, and walked over.