Chapter 361: A Glimpse of the Court
The Immortal Talon
Barbara remembered clearly: she had attacked the mysterious man seven times, each strike augmented with electrical damage—enough to take down any ordinary person. Yet, the man not only stood up, but he appeared completely unharmed.
Bruce said in a low voice, "Who are you? A metahuman?"
The mysterious man did not reply. He picked up his fallen short knife and attacked again. His movements were as swift as before, seemingly unaffected by pain or injury.
Barbara was startled and confused, backing away repeatedly under his fierce assault. Bruce seized the moment and threw a Batarang. The razor-sharp projectile grazed the mysterious man's chest, leaving a fifteen-centimeter-long bloody gash.
Under the dim moonlight, the wound rapidly closed up, healing completely in just a few seconds.
Witnessing this, Barbara was utterly shocked. No wonder he could keep fighting even with broken ribs—he was immortal!
"What kind of monster are you?" the girl yelled sharply, a little frightened. She worried the man might let out a howl and transform into a terrifying creature like a werewolf or a giant bat.
Bruce was also grim-faced. He had dealt with countless criminals but had never encountered anything like this.
A man? Or a monster?
The mysterious man remained silent. Perhaps he was a mute.
The situation grew stranger. Barbara dared not attack wildly as before, retreating a few steps to observe her opponent cautiously. Bruce, who had contacted Alfred and learned the criminals were from the Court of Owls, developed a look of resolve.
No matter the cost, he had to capture the mysterious man and extract information about the Court of Owls from him.
With his mind made up, Bruce launched a fierce assault.
His black cape snapped in the wind, a phantom streaking across the night sky. Going all-out, Bruce unleashed terrifying combat power, knocking the short knife from the mysterious man's hand in just three moves.
His fists were as savage as a lion's, his body as agile as an ape's. One heavy punch connected with the mysterious man's head.
Crack!
The Falcon Mask shattered, revealing a slightly aged, distinct face. The face looked to be about fifty years old, with sharp, memorable features.
Bruce was momentarily stunned, finding the face strangely familiar.
The mysterious man, his mask broken, clutched his face, clearly distraught, like a child who had spent too long in a dark cellar. His eyes flashed with a complex mix of fear, panic, and hesitation. He let out a low snarl and bolted, running away without looking back.
"Stop!" Barbara shouted, moving to pursue. Then, Ava's reminder came in her ear: "Miss Gordon, do not forget your mission. The military armor must not fall into the hands of outsiders."
The girl angrily stomped her foot, then turned her gaze to Bruce Wayne.
"Hey! Why aren't you chasing him?"
Bruce slowly shook his head, pulled out his grapple gun, and shot a line to a distant building. Using the rope's tension, he vaulted into the air, disappearing like a bat into the night.
"What a strange person. He didn't say a single word. Is he too arrogant?" Barbara was annoyed. She had hoped to fight alongside Batman and become a close ally. Yet, their brief interaction showed that he didn't trust her and was constantly on guard, treating her like a criminal.
The girl's enthusiasm cooled completely, and her previous goodwill evaporated.
In truth, this wasn't about her. It was the power armor. Bruce held deep preconceptions about Luke, who came from a crime family, and that suspicion naturally extended to Barbara, who was wearing Tesla's kinetic armor.
After the fight, Barbara began clearing the battleground. Under Ava's guidance, she stripped the power armor from the criminals and collected them.
A total of fifteen criminals had attacked Wayne Manor, but only thirteen suits of power armor were found.
"That's not right. Why is one missing?" The girl checked carefully. There were indeed thirteen, not fourteen. One suit of armor had vanished.
Luke Hunts the Talon
On the outskirts of Wayne Manor, the mysterious man who had escaped the woods was sprinting down the road like a lunatic. As he ran, he let out low, animalistic snarls, his eyes shifting between excitement and pain, recalling who knows what memory.
He didn't calm down until he reached a black sedan, opened the trunk, and pulled out another Falcon Mask to cover his face.
After resting for a while, the weary man opened the car door and drove away.
Shortly after he left, a shadow appeared in the grass. It was Luke, wearing the pitch-black Phantom Mark I battle suit.
Luke surveyed the surroundings. The environment was mapped out on his screen with perfect clarity.
"Sixteen cameras, thirteen traps, three hidden sentry posts, and two secret doors. Very tight security."
"But none of this is useful against me."
Luke stepped out of the grass. As his right foot touched the ground, his figure vanished, a barely discernible black phantom in the shifting light.
The cameras hidden in the treetops, rock crevices, and walls completely failed to register his presence. Luke moved silently, keeping a short distance behind the mysterious man, and confidently walked into the construction site.
Deep within the site was a historical ruin. Following a secret door downward, passing through a narrow corridor, the view suddenly opened up. Without realizing it, they had arrived in a lush, primeval forest.
The gurgling of a flowing stream echoed in the air, which was scented with flowers and grass. The hoot of a nightingale came from afar, and nearby, four bright lights flashed in the treetops—the eyes of two thick-feathered Monkey-faced Owls.
The Owls tilted their heads, curiously observing something. Their vision, different from a human's, allowed them to vaguely make out the Phantom Mark I armor concealed within the light and shadow.
Luke did not pay much attention to the owls. He continued to follow the mysterious man cautiously into the depths of the forest.
As he passed an old tree, the sharp sound of something slicing through the air suddenly rang out.
Luke instinctively turned sideways. A spear made of finely wrought steel grazed his body and slammed into the tree trunk.
Simultaneously, the mysterious man in front of him suddenly spun around, leveled a submachine gun, and fired a rapid burst at Luke's location.
The distinct sound of impacting gunfire filled the air. The light and shadow dissipated, revealing the dark, matte finish of the Phantom Mark I battle suit.
Luke glanced back at the tree, then turned to the mysterious man.
"How did you spot me?"
The mysterious man dropped the submachine gun and pulled a black shortsword from his back.
"Nothing escapes the eyes of the Owl."
"A cheap trick!" Luke scoffed, spreading his right hand. A bolt of blue energy pierced the air.
Boom!
A large tree twenty meters away exploded. The figure hidden in the leaves had no time to scream, blown into pieces by the impact.
Luke advanced. In his Phantom Mark I armor, he looked like the God of Death walking out of hell.
"I heard the Court of Owls has a secret assassin unit called the Talons. You must be one of them."
"Perfect. I've been wondering how to dig you people out, and you've conveniently delivered yourselves to me."
"This is truly excellent."
A fierce green flame of excitement burned in Luke's eyes. The Fear Toxin enveloped the surroundings. Instantly, all sound vanished. The forest fell into a deep silence, and even the owls, shivering in the trees, tucked their heads down, afraid to look.
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