Bat Fight Simulator

Ha, let me see what kind of monsters are under your mask.jpg

"What about the recent rumors about Batman killing people?" Barbara's smile also faded. In front of her eyes was dense data. They tried to lock each other through surveillance, but they all failed.

Nightwing shook his head. In fact, they had no clues. The guys who were collected evidence said that they saw the shadow of the bat, and then all the people involved died. When the Bat Family found the scene, it was rare. No clues were found. It was really rare. Even Batman himself did not find any suspicious clues.

"Oh my God, it's terrible. It's not true that Batman finally split his dark shadow because of too much pressure, and then it wants to bloodbath Gotham..."

"Stop, stop, stop." Nightwing stopped Barbara's imagination with a painful mask. "This kind of thing, even if it is really possible, don't say it out, what if it really works."

"Please, don't mess with me again, I'm almost Batman ptsd." Dick groaned in pain.

Gu Jiti: I just need to kill all the garbage in Gotham first, and there will be no garbage in Gotham, cheerful

Player: Pry the cage, knock the cage, pry, pry, pry, pry, I knock, I knock

Player: I was so angry that I punched the cage

Gu Jiti: When I'm in a bad mood, I'll kill a few scum in Gotham. When I'm in a good mood, I'll tease the players in the cage, suck, suck, suck——

Chapter 120 Dangerous People

When time goes from dusk to night, it reaches the most active time period for bats.

Sitting next to the warm fireplace, Timothy picked up the coffee cup on the table and put it between his soft lips. He sipped the bitter coffee mixed with strong fragrance. His breath blew away the heat, but it quickly gathered again. When it was taken away, it had resumed its appearance of continuing to emit hot steam.

On his thigh, which was carefully wrapped in armor and leather pockets, was a half-read Fifty Shades of Grey. Well, in fact, he would not be interested in such books under normal circumstances, but he would occasionally be curious. Why would he have such a preference when he was obviously a non-human race?

Haha, it can't be that all races have such a hobby.

Instead of turning on the brighter incandescent lamp, he let the warm yellow wall hanging lamp and the crackling burning match stove bring visibility to the room. Timothy would occasionally lower his head and look at the dark bat shadow reflected by the light.

This is the safe house he chose for himself after arriving in Gotham. The decoration style is a bit classical, and there are many old things, but more convenient modern decoration is also complete.

But in fact, Timothy thinks that the decadent feeling brought by retro is also suitable for a guy like him who is neither dead nor alive.

This place is considered to be cleaned up, clean in all senses, a base with comprehensive equipment and security, and safe enough, but even so, Timothy will not really live easily or even relax, as evidenced by the uniform that is still firmly attached to his body.

Just as the computer on the table beside him was still responding, with dense data constantly being analyzed on the screen, Timothy raised his arm and clicked on a key on the keyboard, directly calling up other screens that were closely following the traces of the Bat Vigilante.

Of course, in addition to the technology in his hands, he also reversely hacked into the game interface, at least the small map could still be useful.

But of course the tools must be held in his own hands to be safe enough. That's right, he directly disassembled the system map, stripped out this small function, fixed the limit bug that could only be seen from the game interface, and then reloaded it and projected it into the computer in his hand.

It was just a little trick.

The bat shadow on the floor was deeper than the shadow, because the cloak behind him was directly dragging on the ground when he sat down, and the bat icon on the chest reflected a cold reflection under the warm light. This was also the reason why he still had the leisure to drink coffee here. Controlling the movements of the Bat Family helped him reduce enough intelligence work.

It was not in vain that he hacked into the system by means of suicide.

Timothy lowered his eyes and his sight fell on the open pages of the book, but he couldn't read the words at all. He didn't forget the touch of the cold blade cutting open his throat, and his fingers subconsciously groped his neck.

Is this what it feels like to die once? Will Jason feel the same as he did at that time? No, maybe not, it's completely opposite from a subjective point of view.

He didn't deny that he would do anything to kill himself for a certain possibility. Even if the Nightmare Knights saw him, they would probably say he was crazy.

But the reality is that the dice thrown by fate stood by him, a gambler, this time. He was really lucky.

He took another sip of coffee. He was in a rare good mood tonight. The bitter taste spread in his mouth, and the liquid was swallowed down his throat, dispelling more fatigue and sleepiness, allowing him to continue working.

He turned another page in his hand, reading the love, hate and hatred in the book, while his mind kept running, thinking about the recent child trafficking in Gotham.

Why did he get involved? He should have been quieter and more silent to get everything he wanted. It was definitely not a good thing to attract the attention of the Bat so early.

Moreover, compared with the crisis of the universe, this incident became insignificant.

"But I am Batman."

Tim sighed and stopped flipping the book. He realized that he really couldn't read such a romance novel. Reason kept telling him that this was a pure waste of time.

Batman will not turn a blind eye to such things. Kill those scums as soon as possible. If you kill them earlier, there will be no more victims.

At the Gotham Welfare Home, Director Ruhl was waiting at the door, looking at the road in the distance with eager eyes, and walking back and forth anxiously from time to time.

Of course, he knew what the surname Wayne meant in Gotham. Anything that came out of that rich man's hands was all oil and water, and it was one dollar bill after another, so of course he would pay attention to this guest, ahem, I said it wrong, it was an adoptive person.