Chapter 66: Batman VS Superman

Just like a black cannonball shot through Arkham's outer wall, Batman rolled and fell into the mud outside the Arkham Manor. The cloak hung behind the steel armor was covered with mud and sewage. His body dragged a deep trace more than ten meters long on the ground, and his heavy armor sank deep into the damp mud.

He almost forgot how powerful Clark's fist was, and it just helped him remember. Although behind this expensive armor, Superman's fist power still shook his internal organs almost moved, and every bone in his body seemed to be on the verge of falling apart in protest, and soreness swept through his body like a tide.

Stand up, Bruce. He gritted his teeth and said to himself, you have more important things to do.

Superman flashed in front of him like an instant movement, and the black sewage was pushed aside by the red boots. He coldly looked at Batman who was stubbornly getting up halfway, and said in a deep voice: "You better stay lying down, Bruce, this is for your good."

Batman landed on one knee and looked back at the eyepieces shining with blue light.

"No," he said.

"okay then."

Superman tilted his head, moved his feet, and flew forward again. People say that Superman is faster than bullets. This is not an exaggeration. He can resolve the battle before the slow human nervous system has time to alert the central nervous system. Batman's eyes didn't have time to distinguish any picture, and Fist Shadow had already forced him in front of him.

"Keng!!"

The long and crisp sound of metal clashes. Unexpectedly, Batman's open right palm was like an iron rag and steadily caught Superman's fist. Inertia made his heavy body wrapped in heavy armor sink into the mud. He moved a few inches back, but after all he parried the superhuman power.

Superman was stunned for a moment, feeling a little weird. He subconsciously opened his mouth and asked "How...", but before the sentence was half a sentence, he was interrupted by Batman's metal fist. The body of steel flew upside down in the direction of the road, and the four or five walls in Arkham Manor were torn down like building blocks.

Normal people can hardly imagine how much Batman has smashed on this armor. The arm armor can match the power system of Superman, the missile-level defensive armor, and the built-in computer that can barely keep up with the speed of Superman's blow. All these are the results of money accumulation, the purpose is to have it when facing Superman The power of World War I.

Yes, this suit was designed to fight Superman, his best friend in life, and they were still best friends when he developed this suit.

But despite all the preparations, considering the strength of his opponent, this is not enough. Losing the advantage of being caught off guard, he had no chance to face the serious Superman. A few seconds later Batman was knocked out again, this time only more vigorous than before. He faintly heard a crisp sound when the rainwater entrained by the gust of wind poured on his face. It could be the sound of his armor shell being shattered, or the sound of his bones breaking, or both.

Rain mixed with blood flowing down from the corner of his mouth, Batman struggled to get up, and the eyepiece on his helmet that was originally lit with light blue fluorescence had gone out. His vision blurred, watching the Superman falling in front of him as if through a layer of mist.

"Give up, Bruce, I can see you have two broken ribs." Superman said coldly. "Let me do what you should have done."

Bruce can no longer see Superman's face clearly, he can only vaguely see the outline, and can hear the familiar and unfamiliar voice, which seems to travel through time and space, leading him into a vortex of memory.

He seemed to have returned to the summer vacation when he was twelve, and was vacationing with Alfred at Kent Farm in Kansas.

He and Clark had known each other for a while, and the two of them were often in contact with each other whenever they had time. One night during the summer vacation, Clark's adoptive father Jonathan suddenly found his son missing in his bedroom in the middle of the night. Both the Kents and Alfred were alarmed. They looked around on the farm, shouting Clark's name, but the only response to them was the rustling of the cold wind in the cornfield.

Clark was originally a special child. There were so many mysteries in his body that his adoptive parents could not explain, that it is not surprising that he suddenly disappeared from home one day. The adults panicked, they lit the lights and surrounded the room to discuss countermeasures. The little Bruce who was sleeping in the guest room was not called, but the movement of the adults woke him up. He silently heard the adults' comments behind the hidden door in the living room, and roughly understood what was going on. He went back to the room and put on his coat silently, and slipped out the window without saying a word.

It was not cold that night, but the wind was really not small. The yin wind continued to shuttle back and forth in the wheat fields, and the crops stretched their teeth and claws under the bright moonlight, and they looked quite hideous. The young master wrapped his coat tightly, trying his best not to think about Gotham's scary ghosts and legends. With his impression of this farmland, he fumbled to the side of a huge cylindrical building.

This is a barn owned by an old man named Koda. Clark once pointed here and told Bruce that he likes this barn. Sometimes he likes to jump down from this barn seven or eight meters above the ground to enjoy the thrill of the blast caused by the acceleration of gravity. Sometimes he likes to be alone in a bad mood. Hiding in the barn to meditate. In the past, this was a little secret that belonged to him alone, and even the Kents didn't know it until he shared the secret with Bruce.

Bruce really found Clark here. When Bruce entered, he was wearing his pajamas, sitting on his knees in the moonlight cast by the window, staring at the dark night sky outside.

Bruce found a clearing beside him and sat down, wrapping his expensive black coat tightly. Clark didn't say a word like a maniac, and he didn't say a word, just sitting here with him.

This delicate and protracted battle of patience ended in Clark's surrender. He finally couldn't help turning his head and asking Bruce: "What are you doing here?"

"That's my problem." Bruce said.

Clark stared at the moonlight beneath him, and remained silent for a while. Bruce moved back, leaned back against the wall of the barn behind him, and said, "If you are worrying about your difference, you can tell me, I already knew it."

"How come?" Clark turned his head in surprise. Bruce couldn't help laughing secretly that his little friend was so innocent, and his subconscious reaction directly exposed what Bruce said was true.

Bruce smiled triumphantly and shrugged: "You are really not a good at concealing secrets. You are too easy to be seen through. Let's talk, why come here to see the moon in the middle of the night?"

Clark dropped his head, looking like a wounded rabbit: "I have a nightmare."

"I have nightmares almost every day." Bruce said.

"When I woke up, I found two holes in the roof that I had shot through my eyes."

"...Well, that doesn't happen very often."

"I'm worried." Clark lowered his head and said, "Mom said that if others know my abilities, they will be afraid of me, and I think they should be afraid. I mean... I don't even know me. What am I? Maybe one day when I wake up, the whole farm will be burned by me."

"But you didn't." Bruce said.

"Just so far."

Clark seemed determined to take the horns, and based on Bruce's brief understanding of his new friend, he knew that nothing at this time would make him change his mind. Bruce thought for a while and said, "Well, if you have to feel that way, then I promise that if you do that one day, I will kick your ass."

Clark squinted at him, chuckled and shook his head: "No, you can't."

"What? Do you want to make a bet?"

Clark looked at him confidently and asked suspiciously: "If that happens, can you really stop me?"

"Of course." Bruce was confident. He patted Clark on the shoulder, "Let's go, let's go back, they will be worried after a while."

At this moment, Arkham Manor was torrential rain.

Batman lay on his back on the ground, the heavy armor on his chest was severely distorted. Superman stomped on his chest, staring directly at him with icy glacial eyes, but there was a red glow of hot vision shining in it.

Bruce took two heavy breaths, took a deep breath in the damp air mixed with heavy rain, clenched his fists and made up his mind.

The moment the dazzling green light lit up from the waist of the bat's heavy armor, the red light in Superman's eyes went out like sparks in the wind. He said "Ah" and backed away embarrassedly, his face stained with water drops as white as paper.

Batman struggled to stand up again, while Superman glared at the dazzling green light source around his waist with unbelievable eyes, and said in surprise: "You..."

"Krypton generator, Clark, use kryptonite as a power source." Batman said in a hoarse and deep voice, glaring at Superman, "I promised you, and now, it's time to fulfill that promise. "