Chapter 25: I, the Comedic Bat
Chapter 25: I, the Comedic Bat
"Who are you?"
The man on the stage drew his handgun and questioned.
As a high-ranking member of the Court of Owls, he knew full well that the person before him was not the Laughing Bat they worshipped.
The audience below, however, were merely peripheral members, with little knowledge of the deeper truths. They had mistakenly believed it to be real.
"Kehehehe..."
Raising both arms and spreading his black cape, Allen loudly declared, "I am the Comedic Bat."
Who!?
Who the hell is the Comedic Bat?
For a moment, the wealthy attendees fell into silence. So they had been celebrating for nothing?
"Where's the applause? Where are the flowers?"
Allen remained completely unfazed by the increasingly hostile glares directed his way.
Boom!
Boom!
Suddenly, two explosions rang out from outside the hotel.
At the same time, the clock struck exactly 9:09 PM.
Looking through the window, one could see flames bursting from the 99th floor of Gotham's iconic Twin Towers.
Yet none of the people present seemed surprised—almost as if they had expected it.
"The ritual has begun. The gears of fate are now under our control," the gun-wielding man said with a satisfied smile, as though everything was unfolding exactly as planned.
"Cut the act."
Allen scoffed. "Isn't this just about luring Batman into ingesting five special metals so you can summon that adorable white-silk-drunkard boy, Barbatos?"
Adorable white-silk-drunkard boy?
What nonsense is that!? We are summoning the Bat God, Barbatos!
"Who exactly are you? How do you know the name Barbatos?"
The man's eyes darkened. Only the Court of Owls' upper echelons and their hidden allies knew about the summoning ritual.
"Because I play Genshin Impact."
"..."
Bang!
Hearing such absurd nonsense, the man immediately pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Allen confidently clenched his fist. "All martial arts under heaven are invincible, except for speed. Believe it or not, I've already caught the bullet."
The man felt so awkward he could almost see three black lines appearing on his forehead.
The bullet had clearly struck Allen's shoulder but failed to penetrate, bouncing off instead. A faint spark flickered for a split second—everyone had seen it. There was no need to pretend.
"So I didn't fool you, huh?"
Allen straightened his posture. "Guess I have no choice but to reveal my true identity. I was once Bat-Man, also known as Whip-Woman. But now—I am the Comedic Bat! You shall all tremble in the shadow of my comedy!"
Suddenly, a flash of white streaked through the air like a fleeting steed.
Allen instinctively stepped back, and a throwing knife embedded itself into the ground before him.
Looking up toward the source of the attack, he saw a man clad in black combat gear, his mask resembling an owl.
It was a Talon—one of the elite warriors of the Court of Owls.
"And who might you be, brave hero?"
Clearly uninterested in conversation, the Talon lunged at Allen with a diving strike.
Bang!
Allen casually lifted his leg and kicked the Talon away.
The warrior tumbled across the floor, rolling several times before coming to a stop, motionless.
In an instant, the guests panicked and scattered.
They were pampered elites—at the first sign of combat, fear overtook them.
Amidst the chaos, more Talons emerged.
It was only natural that the Court of Owls would station elite guards to protect their members at such a gathering.
Allen raised both hands and softly spoke, "Lefty, Righty, here we are fighting side by side again. Aren't you excited?"
Just then, the Talons launched their attack.
Allen's maxed-out rogue abilities granted him physical prowess far beyond ordinary humans, more than enough to face them all alone.
Within moments, several shallow cuts appeared on his bat suit.
Allen fended off the enemies and leapt back, putting some distance between them. He clutched his suit with a pained expression. "My Comedic Suit… I can feel my comedy levels dropping!"
Despite his complaints, he swiftly pulled out a flexible sword from his tactical belt.
His suit could withstand bullets, yet it failed to resist the Talons' weapons. Clearly, close combat was no longer an option.
Watching from the sidelines, the gunman remarked, "The Talons possess undying bodies, and their weapons are made of Promethium. Nothing in this world can withstand them."
Clang!
The weapons clashed.
Allen's flexible sword snapped in half. Even with the enhancement of his Shadow Blade skill, it was no match for the Talons' weaponry.
"Shit!"
Cursing, Allen activated shadow stealth and disappeared.
The Talons had been injected with the Dionesium compound and the Amaranth, granting them immortal bodies. With Promethium weapons in hand, Allen saw no choice but to retreat.
You could call Allen a madman, but never a fool.
"Looks like he ran away."
The gunman smirked, believing that Allen had foolishly overestimated himself by challenging the Court of Owls.
"Who said I left?"
Allen suddenly reappeared behind him, seizing him by the neck. Smirking, he whispered, "They might be immortal. But you? You're not."
Panic washed over the man's face as he suddenly remembered—he was just a regular human.
Pow! Pow!
Allen punched him twice, landing solid blows to his eye sockets. Within seconds, dark bruises swelled into full panda eyes. Then, leaving behind a parting remark, Allen leapt out of the window.
"Next time you see me, don't act tough."
The man clutched his eyes, writhing on the floor in pain. "Capture him alive! I want to personally torture him to death!"
At his command, the Talons gave chase.
---
The explosions at the Twin Towers triggered an emergency response, and fire trucks rushed to the scene.
At the same time, Gotham's five young vigilantes, who had been investigating another case, temporarily dropped everything to head toward the incident.
Fortunately, the Twin Towers had been built with excellent fire safety measures. Firefighters wielding hoses worked tirelessly, and after an hour of effort, they managed to extinguish the blaze.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of another building, Dick listened to police communications through a miniature radio.
"On the 99th floor of both towers, we've found nine charred bodies each. No signs of struggle—it's clear they were unconscious when they burned to death."
"So, this was premeditated. The same floor, the same number of victims—this isn't just a coincidence."
"But who would do something this senseless? There's no apparent benefit to this mass murder."
The young heroes were baffled.
They were used to pursuing criminals—people who at least had motives for their crimes.
But this attack… what purpose did it serve? Killing just for the sake of killing? That made no sense.
"What if it wasn't a criminal, but a cult?" Damian spoke up.
The others immediately turned to him, eager to hear more.
"I once read about dark rituals in my father's collection. The number 99—three nines in a row. If flipped, it becomes three sixes—a symbol of darkness."
Damian continued, "And the location—Twin Towers. Viewed from a distance, doesn't it resemble a giant door?"
"So you're saying… the cultists performed a ritual to open an interdimensional gateway? Or maybe to establish contact with something from beyond?"
The group fell silent.
Fighting criminals—even those with special abilities—was one thing. They could find weaknesses and take them down.
But dealing with supernatural fanatics? That was an entirely different problem.
Bruce had only started studying the occult after his experiences in Silent Hill. A firm materialist at heart, he had no choice but to believe after encountering the Devil's Child and the ghostly Sadako.
Since then, he had collected many books on mysticism—just in case.
He even sought out Constantine for advice.
Unfortunately, Bruce never managed to learn magic. He remained, at his core, a warrior of pure physical might.
(Support me and read additional chapters on my Patreøn: patreøn.com/craxxtranslation. Thanks for your support! Don't forget to send your Power Stones!)