The Death Knell

There is a traditional technique in the interrogation world called fatigue tactics. Even those who have not experienced it personally can probably guess what it feels like.

Interrogators will use strong light, noise, temperature, physical pain, etc. to prolong the interrogation time and repeat some simple questions. When sleepiness strikes, the interrogated person cannot concentrate because he cannot concentrate and cannot fight against the brain. Because of the electrical signals generated by the body's instincts, it is easy to confess.

Of course, because many people will fight just to sleep, fatigue tactics are not allowed in today's American police circles.

But Batman is not a policeman. He loves to inflict pain and fear on others.

Besides, his current method is more like an upgraded version of the past. In the past, he used physical torture to destroy the enemy's willpower, but now it is just a chemical method, which actually looks a lot more elegant.

Doomsday Blues didn't answer his questions, and he wasn't in a hurry. He just cut the airway and intubated the other person when he was about to go into shock due to poor breathing.

Then he held the gas tube outside his body and continued to wait, without asking any more questions. Instead, like a cat playing with a mouse, the ventilation was cut off and let Doomsday Blues linger on the edge of pain and relief.

When the opponent's body couldn't bear it anymore, he continued to use other drugs, such as cardiotonic drugs and adrenaline, all of which were injected into the opponent's body. Later, in order to refresh the opponent, Batman even dislocated the two arms of the mage with a smile.

Doomsday Blues has a Talisman of Thorns. Theoretically, no matter whether it is a tracheotomy, an injection, or a fracture, Zorn himself will suffer hundreds of times the pain of the repercussions. This was also why Constantine made people suffer in the past. One of the main reasons why there is no way.

But Batman remained unfazed. He used his willpower to fight against the pain, as if the damage reflected by the magic did not exist at all.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!"

The sorcerer twisted and struggled, arching and falling on the ground with his back like a fish out of water.

But Batman still controls him tightly. In terms of strength, a sorcerer is no match for the Dark Knight.

The cycle goes on and on, and the torture seems to never end, and it will not stop due to external factors, because Batman even took the time to call in the Batplane, fire dry ice cannons, cool down the restaurant and put out the fire.

"Do you hate us? Answer me! Nod or shake your head."

The ventilator was released again, and the sorcerer, whose eyes turned white, returned to this side of the critical point again. Zorn repeated the previous question.

Interrogations are like this, starting with trivial questions and cultivating the target's answering habits.

Doomsday Blues' willpower is not a strength. After all, Constantine himself is a scumbag and can sacrifice anyone to protect himself. So how good can his replica in the Laughing Universe be?

So he finally nodded honestly.

Seeing this, Zorn smiled with satisfaction. He plunged military morphine into Doomsday Blues' chest, and then began the next interrogation.

After a few minutes, Batman thoughtfully dropped the doomsday blues and stepped aside to think quietly.

The sorcerer, who looked like a fallen flower, was squirming and leaning against the bar with difficulty. It was obvious that the effect of morphine had made his condition much better, and the tracheotomy was indeed effective. His voice became a bit strange, but at least I can talk and laugh.

"Hehe, hehe, hehe, you actually didn't find the blank at all, right?"

Communication must occur during the interrogation process, and communication is the interaction of information and intelligence. This treacherous man soon discovered that although the questions raised by Batman were all kinds of strange, they probably all revolved around the 'blank'.

He soon realized why, and it gave him the perverse joy of revenge, knowing that he might die immediately but his enemy wouldn't live long either.

"You don't need to worry about this. I will always find out where she is. You confessed very little. It seems that to 'my lord', you are just an insignificant pawn."

Zorn Bat turned his face slightly and raised the corners of his mouth, obviously not too worried.

"We are all pawns, Batman, ahem! Any universe we live in should not exist in the first place. We are all fictitious characters, manipulated by invisible behind-the-scenes masterminds to perform scripts. We want to get rid of this Control is the only way to death.”

The mage is in great pain even when he speaks, which can be seen from his facial expression, but his tone at this time is full of a kind of crazy ease, describing what he thinks is the reality:

"I want to save you. We can obviously die with dignity together, dragging the damn hell with us to die together, cough cough cough!!!"

"I've heard about your crazy theory from the Laughing Bat, John." Zorn turned and left. He shook his head and replied firmly: "But you are still too short-sighted. Have you ever thought about what would happen to you? Are those thoughts actually hallucinations made up by someone?"

"." Doomsday Blues was silent, maybe because he lost too much blood, maybe because the alcohol had passed away again, he opened his mouth and didn't say anything for a long time.

Batman didn't say anything about this. He walked towards the door of the restaurant that had been burned by the fire and was still smoking, and opened it with a creaking and rubbing sound:

"I'm leaving, John, I don't think we'll see each other again."

"Ahem! What? Aren't you going to kill my mother?" Blues seemed to be brought back to reality, feeling overjoyed.

"I'm Batman, of course I don't kill people."

Jon walked out of the store and walked into the dark rainy night. His cloak splashed with faint light under the rain, but he quickly disappeared with him, and all he could hear was his farewell words:

"He's yours, you know what to do."

After saying that, there was no sound outside the door.

And just when Doomsday Blues was in confusion and didn't know what was going on, he suddenly felt that his sight was blocked by a shadow. It was a face that was completely rotten and seemed to have been burned by fire. It exuded the smell of carrion. The man who smelled like this appeared out of nowhere, but spoke in a voice that sounded like shit!

But he wasn't talking to the fallen Doomsday Blues, because when he spoke, he looked at the deserted place, as if he was talking to the charred floor:

"Oh, old guys, I love teaming up with Batman so much. He always dislikes him for not saying anything about the Justice League, leaving them with no sense of participation. But I'm different. I don't even notice a drop like this. I love the job that I can make money without even having to sweat. Well, it’s not that I didn’t sweat even a drop. When there was a fire, I hid under the wooden floor. It was like a steamer. Have you ever eaten Beggar’s Chicken? Really? I almost got roasted like that."

While chatting with the non-existent audience, Deadpool pulled out the two knives from his back. He chopped off Doomsday Blues' head neatly, with the two knives crisscrossing and clicking like a giant pair of scissors.