Talia sneered coldly.
"I don't need to explain myself to you."
Bane, his enormous head glistening with sweat, stared her down without flinching.
"Now's not the time."
Their gazes clashed midair, sparks invisible but palpable.
Finally, Talia flicked her wrist.
A hundred black-clad assassins instantly lowered their bows.
"I'm done for today," she said coolly. "You can play all you want."
Then, with a mocking smile, she blew Thea a kiss and strode off with her people.
Thea's expression darkened.
"Do you dare defy the will of the League?"
Her glare could've frozen stone, her tone dripping with the same ruthless pride Ra's al Ghul was infamous for.
She was so deep into the role now that even her own pulse seemed to beat to the League's rhythm.
To be fair, Bane was wary of the Demon's Head.
Plenty of villains—powerful, insane, or both—treated Ra's like a plague to avoid.
The man had lived eight centuries; no one knew how many traps, contingencies, or secret weapons he'd left behind.
Bane, for all his bravado, wasn't stupid enough to challenge that.
But with so many people watching, he couldn't exactly back down either.
Talia had at least fought for half an hour—he couldn't flee without throwing a single punch.
He'd taken money from the Court of Owls, after all.
At the very least, he had to act like he earned it.
"I mean no disrespect to the League," Bane said, his tone almost deferential. "I honor its laws… but that man must live."
The words sounded almost pitiful coming from him.
In all his years of battle, he'd never sounded so subdued—and it burned him inside.
Privately, he cursed Penguin for getting him into this mess. You useless bird, meddling fool.
Normally, Thea would've taken the opportunity to step down gracefully.
She really didn't want to fight this guy—he was the definition of "big head, thick neck, infinite strength."
A brute-force monster like him was every agile fighter's worst matchup.
But she'd backed herself into a corner.
The "Ra's al Ghul act" that scared Bane was now also her cage.
If she just said, "Fine, let's both go home," it would instantly ruin her image.
Everyone here would smell the fraud.
No, this theater performance had to go on.
"Then come try me," she said, voice dropping to an icy whisper.
And before anyone could blink, she drew her bow, nocked an arrow, and loosed—
not aiming by sight, but by sense,
her sharp perception locking straight onto the unconscious Penguin.
Bane had been expecting an attack,
but he'd never actually seen Thea shoot—he only knew from Talia that she "wasn't as good as me."
He wasn't prepared for this level of speed and precision.
By the time he realized where she was aiming, it was too late.
The green tubes on his back began to froth violently,
pumping a surge of venom into his veins.
"Rrrrgh—!"
His biceps swelled like inflating balloons.
With one massive hand, he snatched a nearby thug off the ground
and hurled him toward Thea's arrow.
The human projectile intercepted the arrow midair.
There wasn't even a scream—just a thump as the poor man collapsed, lifeless.
The watching crowd gasped.
They saw strength.
Thea saw physics.
Her bow's draw power gave an arrow velocity of roughly 300 feet per second—about 90 meters.
That's 300 kilometers per hour.
But Bane's reflex throw?
Easily over 500 kilometers per hour—more, factoring in the mass and air resistance.
Ancient wisdom was right, she thought, half in awe. Pure brute force really does work miracles.
This guy couldn't be beaten head-on.
He had to be outsmarted.
Meanwhile, Bane was feeling the venom's price.
The chemical high sharpened his rage, numbed his pain—but gnawed at his sanity.
All his earlier restraint was gone.
"Typical League treachery!" he roared.
"You assassins only know how to sneak attack! Come face me, coward—fight me one-on-one!"
Thea rolled her eyes.
One-on-one? With a tank like you? Not a chance.
She tapped her comm.
"Layla, tell the snipers to get ready. Let's see how tough he really is.
Give me a couple of rounds to test his defense."
"Couple of rounds" was an understatement.
The Heaven's Eye agents understood perfectly:
from three different positions, fifteen shots fired in less than ten seconds.
The air cracked with rapid-fire bangs.
Bane didn't even try to dodge.
He covered his chest and head with his arms and took all fifteen hits.
Each bullet—powerful enough to pierce four millimeters of steel—
flattened harmlessly against his muscle.
The worst left faint scratches.
Within moments, the bullets began to pop out of his skin,
pushed out by his monstrous regenerative ability.
Even Thea had to admit—if sniper rounds couldn't break through,
her arrows didn't stand a chance.
And as for close combat? Not happening.
This was Batman's problem.
She'd just… stall.
But Bane wasn't about to let her walk away.
The venom burned through his brain,
and his temper snapped.
He charged, a roaring freight train in human form.
Oh, so it's me you're fixated on, huh?
Thea's temper flared too.
She wasn't afraid—she just didn't want to get pancaked!
Drawing two special arrows, she nocked them simultaneously.
"Let's see how Eastern technology handles Western muscle."
She fired.
Two white streaks embedded themselves in the ground a meter before Bane's feet—
and a flood of glistening white filaments erupted outward,
filling his field of vision in an instant.
He blinked.
What the—?
He tried to push it aside,
but the moment his hands touched it, they stuck.
Thea smirked.
Perfect.
With a grunt, Bane flexed,
his two-ton strength yanking against the sticky mass—
which promptly recoiled,
snapping back to splatter all over his head and shoulders.
The harder he struggled, the worse it got.
Bare-chested as he was, his skin stuck fast to the expanding glue.
Within ten seconds, he was completely cocooned—
a giant, furious white silkworm thrashing in vain.
From a distance, he looked more like a grotesque mummy than Gotham's ultimate bruiser.
"Stop gawking and start attacking already!" Thea shouted,
glancing at her own side's stunned troops.
"What, did you forget why we're here?"
Her tone cracked like a whip.
The soldiers jumped to attention.
The second battle of Arkham—
had just truly begun.