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52.79% Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics / Chapter 2170: Chapter 1467: The Bird Returns (XII)_1

Capítulo 2170: Chapter 1467: The Bird Returns (XII)_1

Both of them tensed their muscles, but Mrs. Miller just stood in the distance, watching them quietly for a while, then turned and left.

Watching her receding figure, both of them breathed a sigh of relief. Red Robin pushed the red hood in front of him and said, "There may have been a murder here recently, anyone could be the murderer, couldn't you avoid rushing in recklessly?"

"So what if there's a murderer? Hasn't we've seen countless lunatics?" Red Hood drew out his weapon from his waist and said, "I'll give him a good beating!"

Admittedly, in a strange environment, an aggressive person genuinely provides a sense of security. Red Robin didn't try further to dissuade him because he was also somewhat insecure..

"Let's go, we'll go up the stairs."

Red Hood swung his head and walked ahead, with Red Robin following behind. The two of them reached a bend in the staircase, and then they heard a hurried footfall descending the stairs.

Just as Red Hood started to climb the stairs, he looked up and saw a woman in a nurse's uniform in a hurry to descend, though more eye-catching than her outfit was the icy gleam of the dagger in her hand.

During the moment they both were stunned, the woman in the nurse's uniform widened her eyes and screamed, "Insomniac freak?!"

"Nurse, we just …"

Before the lie was fully out, the cold glint of the blade was within a breath of Red Hood's face. He sidestepped just in the nick of time. With a "swish", the tip of the blade sliced through the side of his uniform sleeve, spraying a string of blood droplets.

Red Hood's battle instinct had him ducking to avoid a second slash; swinging his weapon was out of the question. He grappled with the nurse, using his physique and weight to slam her against the wall next to the stairway. At the same time, Red Robin's fist was already swung at the nurse.

"Bang!"

The punch landed solidly on the nurse's cheek, but Red Hood had to let go of the nurse to make room for Red Robin's attack, and removed himself from between them.

Getting punched didn't knock the nurse onto the stairs; instead, she staggered up two steps. She changed from a backhand to a forehand grip and thrust the knife towards Red Hood's neck.

Red Hood had to bow to dodge and, a second later, he felt the full weight of the nurse's foot kicking behind his ear. He stumbled backward, crashing into Red Robin behind him.

The dagger slashed multiple times along the handrail as Red Hood continuously backed away, he tried a right kick, but the nimble nurse easily dodged it.

Red Robin was rapidly analyzing the situation in his head, and the conclusion was that their current situation was completely disadvantageous.

The most nuisance was the lack of light in the stairwell. Being their first time here, they didn't know the staircase's layout while the nurse was familiar with everything in this place.

"Go, Jason! Don't fight with her here! Back to the corridor!" Red Robin shouted at Red Hood.

Though Red Hood was typically aggressive, he wasn't stupid. The adversary was familiar with the terrain and armed, standing on the top of the stairs. If she had a gun and started shooting blindly downwards, both of them stood a chance of getting shot.

Therefore, he pulled back his elbow, opened his swing sword arm, lowered his head and swiftly retreated. He back-rolled away from the nurse's attacking range and ran back to the corridor with Red Robin.

Once they were back in a place lit up, Red Hood thought it was rather right, but he wanted to turn to face the enemy. Yet, at that moment, the door behind them opened. The security guard, they met earlier, with bloodshot eyes, emerged, holding a handgun fitted with a silencer.

With the knife-wielding nurse already in the corridor and a burly, gun-toting security guard ahead, Red Hood and Red Robin rushed out too fast to carry any long-range weapons. Staring down the dark barrel of the gun, Red Robin clenched his teeth and said, "I'll distract him while you run to the other side of the corridor!"

"Don't play the fool, he'll shoot."

"He won't hit me!"

As the two assassins kept getting closer, Red Robin and Red Hood had no more room for hesitation. Red Hood quickly rolled to one side, and the moment the guard's eyes followed his movement, he rushed forward and punched the guard in the face.

With a muted "bang", the pistol with the silencer was discharged, the bullet zipping in the narrow corridor, whizzing past Red Robin's ear. Both men didn't have time to wrestle the handgun away and pushed the male security guard aside and made a run for it.

"They're definitely not ordinary people!" Red Hood shouted as he ran. "That nurse was incredibly strong and definitely trained with cold weapons, each of her strokes were lethal!"

"That guard too!" Red Robin followed behind him, running and talking. Late in his run-in with him, it just felt like running into a wall. The last time I felt this way was when I ran into Deathstroke!"

The two raced to the staircase at the other end and dashed upstairs, holding onto the handrails. Not long after they started to climb the stairs, they heard the squeaky noise of a small pushcart. The heavy smell of blood was carried by the breeze, rushing up their nostrils.

"Something's wrong! Move, quickly, go back!" Red Robin's sharp instincts had him pulling Red Hood's elbow to turn them around, but by then, the security guard's heavy footfall could already be heard from below the stairs.

They were at a loss whether to go forward or turn back when the small push cart turned around the corner. The white doctor they had seen in Basement level 1 was carrying a cleaver and coming their way, his other hand was pushing the small cart—upon which lay human body parts.

Seeing Red Robin and Red Hood appear right before him, he hesitated for a moment, asking, "Did you guys hang the painting back up? I don't want Mrs. Miller to think I did it."

The gazes of Red Robin and Red Hood fell upon the corpse in the small cart he was pushing. The spare parts there could assemble at least three complete people, and they were all freshly dead — reeking of blood but not decay.

Rage surged in their hearts, but their murderous fantasies were interrupted by the "bang" of a gunshot. Looking back, Red Robin saw a security guard pointing a dark gun barrel at him.

The pair flew past the white doctor like whirlwinds, Red Hood accidentally stepping on and crushing a finger of an arm lying on the ground. When those chasing them passed by as well, the white doctor shook his head resentfully and muttered: "Bloody rascals! That was my experiment material for tomorrow... Guess I have to go get more."

Red Robin and Red Hood kept running. As they passed a brightly lit room, Red Hood glimpsed human limbs hanging inside. He let out a scream and ran even faster.

Yet before they could reach the stairwell across the hallway, a hulking figure blocked their path. The burly man wearing a pig's head mask looked in astonishment at the two yelling youths and asked, "Who are you? Where are you headed? Aren't you afraid Mrs. Miller will find trouble because you are not asleep at this hour?"

But the attention of Red Hood and Red Robin was fully focused on the blood-smeared chainsaw he was holding.

The duo skidded to a halt, almost rupturing the carpet underfoot, while the grinning guard had already caught up from behind.

Their desperate flight had obviously caused quite a commotion, and besides the nurses, a burly man wielding a baseball bat, a young boy in hospital clothes, and a somewhat hunched elderly man now trailed behind the guard.

A few heads poked out behind the Pig Mask Killer as well. The weapons hidden behind them were either boning knives or dark gun barrels. Seen through the light leaking from the door crack, there was an impressive array of human-related parts.

"Every single one of them..." Red Robin's voice trembled as he spoke, his extraordinary deductive abilities flooding his brain with information about everyone before him. At this moment, he would rather not possess such skills.

"What?!" Red Hood gritted his teeth and cursed, "Can't you stop speaking in riddles at times like this?!"

"What else could it be?!" Red Robin roared, "They're all fucking serial killers!!!!!"

The evening breeze of Gotham wafted through the corridor, tossing the short hair by the temples of Red Hood and Red Robin. Behind their frightened expressions, the signboard at the corner of the hallway rang out, on which, in bold English, was written —— "Patient Social Activity Center."

By ten minutes later, two staggering figures rushed onto the fourth-floor corridor: Red Hood, with a deep gash on his arm, supporting Red Robin, who had been shot in the leg. They were running as fast as they could, trying to escape the relentless pursuit of countless serial killers.

Even though Robin and Batman are known for winning against unlikely odds, their predicament was inevitable. No matter how well-equipped or prepared they were, it might not have mattered here.

Because every serial killer who makes it here has published at least five significant works in journals, considered academic titans in the realm of spree killers. Killing has become an instinct for them, murder elevated to an art form. Their hunting techniques were honed to perfection.

Unlike Robin and his comrades, who sacrificed themselves in pursuit of justice and apprehended criminals, these killers indulged purely for their own pleasure. They dedicated their lives to deeply understanding how to kill human beings. As the saying goes — love is the best teacher.

For Robin, attacking others was merely a means to an end, a part of their pursuit of justice. However, for serial killers capable of entering the New Arkham Mental Hospital, killing was practically their entire life. There's another saying that rings just as true — whatever you love defines your life.

You should never challenge someone's profession with your hobby. Although Red Hood and Red Robin were already considered reckless among the Robins, they seemed more like innocent little lambs when contrasted with these serial killers.

They were not so much sheep among wolves but lambs who had inadvertently parachuted into a pack leader's conference: like novice heroes just out of Novice Village stumbling into a 'Hell's G20 Summit', or entrants into the Sunset Overlord Shrimp Breeding Pool — their wooden bat replaced by a starter bat.

The two runners in the hallway began to slow down. As Red Robin leaned against a wall to recover, he managed through gritted teeth, "We can't keep going on like this!"

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Red Hood cursed. "How the hell did Batman manage to get them in here?!"

"That was likely just his disguise." Red Robin swallowed hard. "He deliberately put on an innocent front to lower everyone's guard. We've all been duped, including those deranged killers."

"We were tricked the first time we met him, that sneaky Batman!"

At those words, both fell silent. Red Robin sighed resignedly, "Normally it's those misfits who would curse us like that. How the table turns!"

"Let's go, quick! They're on our heels!" Red Hood panted.

Just as those horrifying figures emerged once more behind them down the hallway, while they were almost out of energy, a room door along the corridor suddenly swung open, and a small hand pulled them both inside.

The excessive blood loss from the gunshot wound made Red Robin dizzy. As he stumbled in and slid down against the wall, the bright light in the room created halos in his vision.

But the face that appeared before him the next second stunned him to his feet. The astonished cry of Red Hood reached him first:

"Harley Quinn?!!!"


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