Chapter 79: Chapter 78: This Smoke Hits Hard
Peter pulled up Wally Krohn's lifeless body by the tie, dragging it back onto the rooftop.
Bruce hurried over, staring at Peter in shock. "Sir, he's… he's dead!"
Peter nodded casually. "Expected. The Court of Owls always keeps a close watch over Gotham."
His gaze drifted toward the direction where the assassin had already fled.
"But to be honest, our dear ex-mayor was never my real target."
Peter squinted, activating his heightened senses to track the assassin's movements.
"Let's go. We'll let our assassin friend lead us to the prize."
Bruce hesitated briefly before rushing to keep up. "Sir… Did you plan to lure the Court of Owls' assassin from the start?"
Peter stopped in his tracks and turned to Bruce.
"Yes. I didn't think the former mayor would give us the answers we needed."
"So… you also anticipated they'd silence him?"
"I didn't know for sure," Peter replied. "But I had a pretty good guess they would."
Bruce fell silent, processing Peter's approach. "Do you think… your methods are too harsh?"
Peter glanced at Bruce, his tone steady.
"Do you?"
"I… I'm not sure."
"Bruce," Peter said, his voice firm, "this city is rotten to its core. Darkness and crime seep into every corner. The police are corrupt, and the law is a façade. What happened to your parents? It happens every day. If you're trying to save Gotham, giving people hope won't be enough."
Bruce froze at Peter's words, his mind reeling.
Peter placed a hand on his shoulder. "The only way to stop them is through fear—make them afraid."
"I…" Bruce started, but his thoughts were in turmoil.
After a moment, he found his voice. "But sir, maybe… maybe law and order could still save this city."
Peter smiled faintly. "Hope is a good thing, Bruce. Walking through shadows yet believing in law and order; desiring revenge yet mastering the rage within you—those are qualities I hope you'll have."
Seeing Bruce's uncertainty, Peter offered a few words of encouragement.
He couldn't risk this kid turning into a dark, ruthless Batman; otherwise, Peter might really become a Father of Sorrows someday.
Bruce nodded firmly. "I understand, sir. I'll become the kind of person you expect me to be."
...
At the Court of Owls headquarters, the members—Gotham's wealthiest elite—gathered in an ornate chamber, heatedly debating the recent events.
"Quiet! Silence!" commanded a regal woman in an owl mask, her voice cutting through the chaos.
"Gotham is broken beyond repair, and only we can rebuild it from the ashes. Our plan is nearing fruition. The rise of a new Gotham is at hand!"
Cheers erupted, echoing through the hall.
"Not so fast," an unfamiliar voice interrupted.
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to see Peter and Bruce stepping into the chamber.
The woman's gaze landed on Bruce, her shock evident. "You… Bruce Wayne!"
"How did you find us?!" she demanded, her eyes darting to Peter.
"That's a long story," Peter replied, stepping forward. "You rats do know how to hide, I'll give you that."
"You…" Bruce's eyes burned with fury as he glared at the Court members. "You killed my parents!"
The woman shook her head. "Stubborn and defiant, just like your father, Bruce. If only you had stayed under our control. But no—just like him, you overestimated your worth. To yourself and to others."
"But now that you've walked into the lion's den, the outcome won't be much different."
She clapped her hands, summoning several assassins clad in owl uniforms.
Blades drawn, the assassins charged at Peter and Bruce with lethal precision.
Peter stepped in front of Bruce, catching one assassin's arm and twisting it with a sickening snap.
The man screamed in agony before Peter's fist sent him hurtling across the room, crashing into another assassin.
Before the rest could react, Peter moved like a blur, appearing in front of another. His elbow came down like a hammer, sending the assassin spiraling through the air before slamming into the ground, lifeless.
In mere moments, the elite killers lay sprawled across the floor, broken and bleeding.
The Court members froze in horror, their confidence shattered.
"Retreat!" the woman shouted, her voice trembling. "Release the gas!"
Red smoke hissed out from spheres rolling along the floor.
Peter bent down, picked one up, and inhaled deeply. "Ahh… not bad. Been years since I had a good smoke. This almost makes me nostalgic."
He took another exaggerated puff, savoring the moment.
The woman stared, dumbfounded.
"W-what are you?!"
As the Court members panicked and fled, Peter dashed forward, grabbing the woman by the throat and tossing her across the room.
She crashed through the center table, splinters flying in all directions.
Before Peter could follow up, the remaining members suddenly froze mid-escape.
One by one, they convulsed, blood dripping from their mouths, before collapsing to the ground.
"What… what just happened?" Bruce stammered, his wide eyes locked on the scene.
Peter crouched by one of the bodies, inspecting it briefly. "They're dead. Poisoned."
"Poisoned?"
Peter nodded. "Every one of them. Looks like someone silenced them before we could."
He turned his gaze to the massive owl statue in the room's center. "The Court of Owls… just another piece of Gotham's iceberg."
"Is it over?" Bruce asked, his voice tinged with melancholy.
Peter glanced at the lifeless chamber. "For tonight, maybe. But Gotham's darkness runs deeper than this."
Bruce remained silent, staring at the fallen figures. Despite the victory, an inexplicable sadness weighed on him.
...
Btw, I have a new project. Marvel's Magic Master: I Have a Clone in the Harry Potter World. There's already 42 chapters out. I promise you'll get hooked!
Its about a guy who gets reincarnated as a mutant in marvel and has the ability to take control of clones in other magical worlds like Harry Potter and gain their abilities while also being able to use his mutant powers in the Harry Potter-like world. Go and read it if you liked it.
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