[Tension from Bruce Wayne + 33, + Stunned 41...]
After David finished speaking, the lobby fell into silence.
"Bruce Wayne?"
The people lying on the ground with their heads in their hands in the bank lobby looked at each other in confusion and strangely.
People in Gotham may not know who the mayor is and what his name is, but it is impossible not to know Bruce Wayne. The citizens of Gotham, from birth to death, even with closed eyes, cannot do without the shadow of Wayne Enterprises in all aspects of the basic necessities of life.
And Bruce Wayne is the heir to the wealthy Wayne Enterprises.
But Bruce Wayne has been missing for years, how could he be here and robbing a bank?
"There is a group of gangsters in Gotham right now called the Red Hood Gang, and the leader is called the Red Hood. They are not very powerful, and they are not well-known."
David was also a little surprised.
Compared with well-known villains in later times such as Bane, the Joker, and the Scarecrow, the Red Hood is just an unknown little character.
But the predecessor(T/N: referring to identity before changing) of the Joker in many worlds is a former Red Hood gangster. He fell into the pool of chemical agents to avoid the pursuit of Batman and then became a clown with pale skin and green hair.
'I originally wanted to use emotional points to check whether one of these red hoods is the Joker.'
'Red Hood Five' looked at him in shock, who had a playful smile on the corner of his mouth, and looked up and down.
'Now, I saw Batman instead of the Joker.'
When Red Hood Five was ordered to teach him a lesson as a disobedient hostage, when he walked up to him, an emotional reminder from Bruce Wayne was refreshed.
"Shut your mouth, if I were that brat whose corpse no one knew where it rotted, why would I still be standing here?"
'Red Hood Five' roared angrily, swinging the butt of his gun to hit David on the forehead.
"Wait a moment!"
The leader of the red hood suddenly raised his gun and aimed at number five.
"Boss? I don't understand. You said teach him a lesson, and I'm doing it."
Being pointed at the gun, 'Red Hood Five' hurriedly raised his hand, his tone in a daze.
"Could it be...you believe this kid's nonsense?"
The rest of the red-hooded minions followed and pointed at No. 5, aiming their guns at No. 5 and David behind him.
"I don't know if you're Bruce Wayne. But you're definitely not Number Five."
Red Hood Leader shook his head and clarified, "Number Five is the craziest of us. He would never hesitate to shoot when he could.
You talk too much!"
'Red Hood Five' changed his expression under the mask.
He just wanted to kick this young boy who didn't seem to understand what fear was and was provoking gangsters, and then knock him unconscious with the butt of a gun and it would be over.
But because he didn't immediately shoot, he attracted the other party's attention.
"And... number five is left-handed." The corner of the red hood leader's lips curled into a sneer.
'Red Hood Five' glanced at his right hand holding the gun, and there was an ugly look in his eyes. He actually made more than one mistake.
David confirmed that the little guy in the red hood in front of him was Batman-Bruce Wayne, but it should be Batman who had just returned to Gotham to fight crime not long ago.
'The current Bruce Wayne seems to have just made his debut, and he is not the mature and cold Batman who will never make mistakes in the future.'
By the way, where are the security personnel of this bank?
Ignoring the seven or eight submachine guns pointing this way, David looked around.
At the door of the security room, a figure fell on the ground, his lips were purple and foaming at the mouth, and there were other people lying on top of him, who also looked the same.
It turned out that they had been poisoned in advance.
"Now, take off your hood..."
He was obviously robbing a bank, and the police might arrive at any moment, but the leader of the red hood was not at all anxious and pointed his gun with great interest.
"Let's see who you are, are you the orphan of the famous Wayne family, or some police officer who thinks he can take down us alone?"
"If it's really Bruce Wayne, you won't have to worry about it in your next life."
Several minions with guns pointed at them, burst into laughter.
"We're not like that idiot Joe Chill, who killed the richest couple in Gotham for a string of pearls."
The harsh voice echoed in the hall, and David saw veins popping on the raised hand of 'Red Hood Five'.
Joe Chell, a random street gangster who was as timid as a mouse and looked down on by gangsters, became famous after killing the Wayne couple and causing the tragedy that everyone in Gotham knew.
Under the threat of gunpoint, "Red Hood No. 5" had to take off the hood stiffly, revealing a middle-aged face with a thick black beard, as if misunderstood and annoyed.
"Number five?"
At the moment when several red hood minions were stunned, 'Red Hood No. 5' raised his wrist, and the miniature remote control sprang out from his cuff, and he pressed it down with lightning speed.
Boom!
The bank's thick, sturdy glass doors were shattered.
The shock wave of the explosion swept the hall, glass shattered stubble flew, and all the red hoods were knocked to the ground by the blast.
Almost at the same time, a smoke bomb was thrown on the ground.
'Red Hood Five' turned around and was about to throw David who was standing, leading to help him to jump behind the bank counter to avoid the ensuing gunshots.
But Bruce, who turned around like a ferocious beast, felt as if he had bumped into a bronze statue weighing several hundred kilograms with his shoulder, and he groaned with pain and looked up for a moment.
It's not that he has not considered that this young boy has practiced martial arts, but no matter how powerful the martial arts are, the weight of his body cannot be changed. Under the surprise push, how could he, who is proficient in more than 100 types of martial arts, not be to move him at all?
David, who didn't feel that he needed to dodge, glanced at the wrinkled skin on the neck under the astonished middle-aged face, smiled lightly at the corner of his mouth, and threw Batman behind the solid wood counter.
Batman's layout plan is still a bit green when he just debuted, but the habit of always keeping a backup plan has long been there.
"Shoot, kill him!"
Seven or eight submachine guns fired at the same time, the bullets roared out, and the torrent of metal easily penetrated the heavy counter, Bruce Wayne lay on the ground with his head in his arms.
The bullets collided with David's body, immediately lost all kinetic energy, and fell to the ground crisply.
"Cease fire!"
Hundreds of bullets were released, and the leader of the red hood shouted.
In the faintly diffused smoke, a figure with a vague slender outline stood inside without moving a step.
The few red-hooded minions were waiting for the figure that should have been pierced into a sieve to fall straight back.
But in the smoke.
A bit of dangerous purple light lit up.
"What?"
A young man frowned, holding the muzzle of a gun, squinting his eyes to distinguish something lit.
Chi!
A laser shot out from the smoke, causing severe pain in his chest, he looked down in disbelief in a daze.
A blood hole the size of a thumb pierced through his heart.
Boom!
The corpse fell, and the bright red quickly spread on the hall floor.
"Kill him!"
Aiming at the figure in the smoke, the red hoods shot in panic.
The counter served as a cover, and Bruce Wayne hid behind it, poking his head slightly to reveal a pair of eyes with consternation.
Whoop, whoop!
Not far in front of him, the handsome young man in a windbreaker stood on the spot, raising one arm like a pistol.
Just like in black-and-white silent films, imagining that your fingers are pistols, and behave like handsome cowboys are fighting gangsters. Before losing his parents, Bruce Wayne played against this in the garden in his own manor in his childhood.
But at this moment, the figure really shot something from its fingertips, but it wasn't bullets—it was purple laser beams!
Time seemed to slow down at this moment. In the bank lobby, looking from the side, the tall and straight figure had a casual expression, and he used his fingers to shoot from the air without delay as if he was playing a game.
But to the Red Hoods, it seems that the god of death is calling their names.
The laser that scorched the air passed by, and the chest of each of the gangsters who fled in panic burst into blood, with holes in their hearts, and corpses fell to the ground one by one.
[Shock from Bruce Wayne + 43...]
"This guy... how did he do it?"