Marvel Comics: Starting with the Ability to Replicate Superhuman Talents

"I won't believe you."

Gordon sneered.

A tight-fitting pervert came to the old Wayne Tower site at night claiming to be helping the police with a case?

Gordon didn't think he was crazy for believing such words.

"No, you sniff carefully." The figure was shrouded in darkness and hid its body in the cloak, just like a bat hiding its body under its wings when sleeping during the day.

Gordon sniffed the scent in the air, and then he frowned slightly.

There is a faint weird smell in the air. If I had to describe it, it's like a kind of paint, or maybe a paint mixer?

Gordon shrugged: "This doesn't prove anything. Maybe the murderer accidentally knocked over a bucket of paint when he killed."

Gordon kept talking: "Besides, handling cases is a matter for the police. I don't care who you are."

But before he could finish his words, he was interrupted by Batman. He stretched out a hand and looked at Gordon: "Is there a fire?"

"What do you want to do?!"

Gordon clenched the handle of the gun, once again associating this mysterious man with the murderer. Wouldn't he want to set fire to the crime scene?

Looking at the vigilant Gordon, Batman silently retracted his hand. He originally planned to ask Gordon to do him a small favor and use this behavior to lower Gordon's vigilance.

But he ignored his identity and his current behavior was technically a crime.

Batman turned around and pointed at the wall with his chin: "Look at that wall, is there something there?"

Gordon frowned, and his other hand that wasn't holding the gun pushed up his glasses, trying to see something in the dim light.

Gordon looked at the dirty wall, his eyes swept across some light brown marks, and he couldn't help but feel a thump in his heart.

"You mean this is a clue left by the murderer for us?"

"I'm afraid so."

"The pungent smell in the air comes from the walls. I recognize this smell. It is the message left by a special kind of linseed oil."

"Who would leave information at the scene of a crime?!" Gordon was shocked and angry. What did the other party think of all this?

A game?

"Lighter." Batman lowered his voice, and this time, Gordon subconsciously threw out the lighter in his pocket.

When he came back to his senses, he found that Batman had pressed the ignition switch, and the flames were gradually approaching the brown mark along his arm.

"Wait a minute!"

Gordon was shocked. This was an important clue and evidence, which might be helpful to the police in handling the case.

However, the orange-red flame fell on the brown traces.

The next moment.

"boom!"

The originally weak flames instantly clung to the traces on the wall.

They were like a pair of lingering fire dragons that instantly ignited the entire wall.

The grand and hot orange-red flame danced in the dark night.

Gordon looked at the row of large English letters and couldn't help but read out: "Let's play a game, Batman."

He looked at the mysterious pervert in tights and found a strange look in the man's eyes, and the slightly raised corners of his mouth seemed to prove that this weirdo seemed a little happy?

"It's over."

Gordon wailed in his heart, it seemed that this pervert in black was also a psychopath.

Shouldn't the average person feel a headache and fear when encountering this kind of situation? But why is that guy happy?

Batman turned to look at Gordon: "Can you see the body? I think I have some clues."

"You." Gordon looked at the mysterious weirdo, feeling the rich and terrifying dark but reassuring temperament in him, and there was something wrong.

"Okay, come with me."

Gordon led Batman to open a body bag. The strong smell of blood from the headless corpse inside made Gordon frown slightly.

Batman stared at the body, taking just one look before concluding: “Death by decapitation by blade.

"The wound was smooth and there were no traces of secondary cuts. The killer was experienced and received strict training."

Batman's white eyepatch narrowed slightly. This killing method reminded him of some things in the past.

The mysterious man followed Gordon and opened three or four more body bags.

"It's confirmed." Batman said after a moment of silence.

Gordon looked confused, no, what are you sure about?

Catching a glimpse of Gordon's inquisitive gaze, Batman briefly explained: "The murderer was an assassin from an organization called the League of Assassins."

As the best master detective in the world, Batman not only has extraordinary wisdom, but also has a photographic eye, and also has the sharpest judgment.

During his time in the League of Assassins, he also went on some missions with the team. Although he did not kill anyone himself, he had witnessed the tragic conditions of the dead killed by his companions that were consistent with these corpses.

"The League of Assassins?" Gordon had a white question mark on his face. He took a deep look at Batman, feeling that this guy might be getting sick again.

Batman wandered around the room again. After confirming that the Assassin's League was the one who organized the murder, his gaze was no longer limited to his surroundings.

Batman raised his head and looked up at the ceiling.

Soon, with the help of the moonlight, he found a series of unclear black footprints on the ceiling above his head.

Gordon watched Batman take off a strange and heavy pistol from his waist, and couldn't help but question: "Wait, do you think there are clues above?"

Batman didn't answer, he raised his grappling gun and pointed it at the ceiling.

"Bang!"

The heavy anchor at the top of the hook whizzed against the ceiling.

However, it seemed that the distance was not enough or there was something wrong with the angle. The hook rope did not fly around the concrete beam above the head, but fell to the ground in an extremely awkward posture.

"Click~" a sound.

The anchor fell to the concrete floor.

Gordon and Batman looked at each other, and both fell into a brief silence.

The first launch failed.

Batman tightened his grip on the grappling gun and pressed the button on the other side of the gun.

"Shua..."

Like a homing python, the lock rope drags the anchor and reloads it at the muzzle.

"Huh." Batman took a deep breath, raised his hook gun, pointed it at the beam, and randomly pulled the trigger.

This time, his action did not fail.

The iron cable went around the cement pillar under the action of inertia, and then was tied back and forth several times.

Batman tugged on the hook to make sure it wouldn't slip, then pressed the trigger again.

I saw the hook gun carrying him, flying towards the rafters like flying into the sky.

The huge bat cape swayed in the wind.

Batman stepped on the rafters with a handsome somersault. He looked up at the black footprints just above his head.

He sniffed the footprints lightly, and a foul smell invaded his nose.

Batman squinted his eyes. He didn't even need to think to guess where these footprints came from.

In the entire Gotham City, there is only one source of such a vicious stench, and that is Gotham City's sewers.

Batman rolled over and landed on the ground, with one hand behind his back and a thoughtful look in his eyes: "But why did those guys come to Gotham City?"

He didn't think there was anything in this place that interested Lei Xiaogu.