Superhero Comic – Overlord’s Path

Although the old man swears, he finally drove his broken pickup truck, carrying the bodies of a bastard and three bastards, and drove towards Gotham Harbor in the late night rain.

It’s not that Cyber ​​can’t drive, nor that he can’t handle such small scenes by himself. It’s just that the environment of Gotham Harbor is too dangerous for an outsider. This kind of weather is most suitable for some secret transactions. , Dad can't think of letting the helper he has finally found, just sleeping under the sea of ​​Gotham so unclearly.

Cyber ​​is indeed very good at fighting, but now this era is no longer an era where only fighting can solve the problem.

The rainy night in this season is a bit cold, especially when standing on the pier where the wind is rustling, Saibo removed three big black bags from the car, and found some heavy stones from the side, using wire Wrap them neatly, and then push those three things into the sea under the gaze of the old man sitting in the car. There is no moon in the rainy night, so everything that just happened is sad except for God and these two. No one knows outside the individual.

"Next, kid."

Dad’s hand stretched out from the car window and threw a cigar to Cyber. The latter held it on his mouth and lit it hard in the rain. The mellow smoke floated around him. His upper body was shrouded in the smoke of this rainy night.

The mellow smoke wafted in the cold night around Cyber. In the cigar's extinguishment, the chaotic thinking involuntarily fell into the memory of the past again.

The fragmented memory may not be because of this silly journey, but because of the fragmented life in the past. Saibo can vaguely remember that he opened the envelope again and again, with various names written on it, there are English, Chinese, and some distorted text.

That was his goal and his life. He used guns, knives, hands, ropes, and traps to make those who shouldn’t survive accept their due end, but at that time he , Should not be a bad guy in the traditional sense.

Because in that memory, there is still a picture of him swearing an oath, and that heavy mission.

From one city to another, from one country to another, from one continent to another continent, his life is never dominated by himself, and his circle is pale and terrible, without friendship, no love, no affection, What is it like?That kind of life...

"arms!"

Saibo silently read the word that jumped into his mind, and then he shook his soaked hair severely.

Yes, live like a weapon, you don’t even need to think, focus on your task, focus on...killing.

It's like a snake living in the dark, or a bulldog. He just needs to sharpen his fangs. He has adapted to this kind of life, but why did he break this kind of life?

Cyber ​​struggled to endure more and more severe headaches. This body seemed unwilling to remind him of too many things, but these were enough.

The last picture that flashed through his mind was of him in pajamas, blocking the scene in front of a child holding a stuffed doll. It seemed to be a certain city in this country. He was supposed to be on a mission at a hotel. On the street at the door, bullets like light and shadow flew towards him.

He closed his eyes, he knew he was going to die...

"In the next life... live for yourself!"

That was probably the last sentence of his previous life, but the irony is that if his biological clock did not go wrong, it should have been said 2 hours ago, and the result is such a miraculous fate, perhaps because of the previous life killing and saving people. So at the last moment, Man Tian Shen Buddha gave him a chance...

"cut"

Saibo spouted two smokes from his nostrils with disdain, and then gestured his middle finger towards the sky. He never believed in God.

But he thought that sentence was great,

"In this life, live for yourself!"

"Kang Long"

A flash of thunder flashed across the sky, illuminating the dim Port of Gotham at this moment. Dad looked at Saibo, who was walking with his head down in the heavy rain. The moment when the lightning flashed through the sky, everything was illuminated. , Only Saibo's figure is as dark as ink in the light.

It looks...Cooooool!

Saibo stayed in the rain for five full minutes before returning to the car in embarrassment.

The old man started the car, looking curiously at Saibo who was leaning his head on the window, and asked in a low voice, "What were you doing just now?"

Saibo, who had a lot of talk, was very silent at this moment. It was only when he re-answered the old gun bar and walked into the rattling wooden door that he threw the cigarette butt in his mouth to the rainy night outside the door. He grinned at the old man and showed a full smile.

"I'm saying goodbye."

The old man looked at Saibo like he was neurotic, then put the mop in his hand into the palm of his hand, and pointed to the floor full of bloody footprints.

"Very well, you are a sentimental villain, so clean this place for me, and then go to bed. There is food in the refrigerator on the second floor. Remember, tomorrow at nine o'clock...Jamie may come to trouble."

Christian, the veteran, put his hand around Saber’s neck and strangled him severely. This is probably his way of expressing kindness, and then Saber heard the voice of his father suppressing his anger.

"Teach me a lesson to them, and let me see if you are truly capable or only bullying those little hooligans."

Saibo's face immediately turned into bitter gourd. He looked at his father, "Well, killing people during the day is not good, right?"

The look in his eyes at this time was really like a neurosis. He cursed and loosened Saibo’s neck.

"The way to solve the problem is not just killing people, you lunatic, Jamie may be difficult to deal with, but his men are just fools who can't get on the table, 3 days! I only need 3 days! Understand?"

After speaking, the old man yawned and walked up to the second floor, leaving only an empty small bar, and Saibo cleaning in it. When there was no one, the chat became quiet. After coming down, he hummed some kind of tune and started to work happily.

He seems to be very careful in doing any work. He even squatted on the floor and wiped vigorously with a rag in order to remove a blood stain. So when he finished cleaning, the hands of the clock had already pointed to 4:30, the real midnight. .

Saibo's body was shaking a bit. He locked the door, walked up the stairs, took a large red sausage from the refrigerator on the second floor, and chewed it while going up to the third floor, opening the one closest to the window. The door of the room, without looking at the layout of the surroundings, just took off the soaking coat in the dark, threw it aside, and then collapsed on the bed.

Soon, a uniform grunt sounded.

At the same time, in the darkness of this rainy night, in a mansion not far from the dock, two bald heads are getting together to discuss matters. The room is very beautifully furnished and luxurious, but the table is placed, But it is a stack of photos and a pistol on the photo. There is also an open bottle of vodka next to it. This kind of high-precision drink, most people stay away.

But it is the favorite thing of the Russians.

The shortest bald head picked up the first picture of the photo and looked in front of him. It was a woman with brown hair and a gentle smile. Looking at the photo, a trace of bald head's somewhat drunk eyes appeared. Grinning,

"Tsk tusk, what a beautiful chick, what is her name?"

"Rachel Dawes, assistant local prosecutor."

The other bald took a sip of vodka, his collar was opened, showing strong muscles and lush chest hair, he murmured,

"It's a tricky little beauty who doesn't like money and is not afraid of threats. Moreover, in the boss of Chafalcone, the boss asked us to make a little "accident", Boshkin, leave it to you."

The short bald head shook his head and snorted.

"Well, the security of Gotham is getting worse and worse. These righteous people may encounter some accidents when they go to get off work. Those poor beggars on the narrow island who have no food to eat are very willing to exchange their lives for money, a bullet thing, Just like the Waynes and his wife back then, hahaha."

Having said this, the short bald head named Poshkin threw the photo aside. He looked at his boss and lowered his voice.

"Brother, Bruce Wayne, who died seven years ago, is back again. I heard that his company plans to buy the entire Port of Gotham. Would you say he will... After all, the boss of Falcone asked you to Killed Zili outside the court..."

Hearing Poshkin’s question, Jamie stopped the wine bottle in his hand, took a deep breath, put the wine bottle on the table, and sneered.

"Then Master Bruce should be thankful to me. I helped him kill his father and enemy. Besides, it was Falcone who asked me to do it...but what you said makes sense."

Jamie closed his eyes and thought for a few minutes, his body straightened from the sofa, and he hooked his finger at Poshkin.

"Isn't the old Christian, the immortal, going to sell his shop?"

"Don't worry, brother, I have sent Bourne and the others to "handle"."

Poshkin licked his lips. "It's just a bad old man, but I don't understand, brother, what do we want that broken bar?"

"What do you know!"

Jamie glared at his brother, but he quickly explained, "Wayne Industries has already planned to revitalize the Port of Gotham. Once the port becomes prosperous, there will be a place to have fun. The old man will not do business. Let's do it! Find some women and get a batch of goods from the boss of Falcone. Doesn't it make more money than we kill and kill? Boshkin, our two brothers came from Siberia all the way to the United States, we are not for Who are you here to kill! Once Bruce Wayne and Falcone meet, it's time for us to harvest!

"Wait, no matter who it is, don't want to take Gotham Harbor from me!"