Shiller knew it wasn't Batman because, obviously, the bat suit was just a bodysuit with two pointy ears added to the cowl—perhaps to avoid copyright infringement, the logo on the Bat-belt wasn't a bat but a horizontal lying beauty.
Maybe to hide the flaws of his skin, Deadpool wore a mask that didn't expose his chin, and gloves covered his hands—apart from a small area around the eye sockets, almost no skin was visible.
Since the bat cowl wasn't custom-made and seemed like merchandise from a Batman fan club, the fit around the eyes wasn't very snug, and the little bit of skin that was showing lay completely in shadow.
Deadpool's dance was surprisingly good. Of course, he had no flexibility to speak of, but these kinds of pole dances are more about being provocative than skilled. Deadpool twisted and swayed so seductively that it was hard to believe he wasn't thoroughly enjoying himself—apart from having a gun pointed at his head by Deathstroke, he lacked just 0.01% of the initiative required to not be able to exude such a vibe.
Shiller exited the video interface, scrolled to the second comment and realized there was a follow-up to the video, and its popularity was skyrocketing. He refreshed the page, only to find that the number of comments had grown by more than 2,000.
Clicking on the comments, Shiller had a bad feeling. The initial dance video comments were mostly people jesting, most of them brief and easy to scroll through.
But the comments section for the second video was filled with lengthy essays, the kind that Bruce would have to write floaters for at least two months, and scrolling to the bottom wouldn't even take you past a single person's comment.
The online social habits in Europe and America are a bit odd—they really like to use real photos of themselves as avatars. In this burgeoning Internet era, forums are nearly full of real faces.
And now, looking over the comments section, it was dark with profiles of almost entirely Black individuals.
With a sinking feeling, Shiller clicked on the video, and unfortunately, just as Deadpool's Batman had gotten halfway through his act, with a loud snap, the glass of the window on his right shattered, and a group of people rushed in.
Deadpool was clearly taken aback, and the cameraman even swore. In that brief moment, Shiller recognized that it was indeed Deathstroke. This was how Deathstroke sought revenge against Batman.
But the situation before him was beyond his expectation because the intruders weren't just any riffraff but a well-trained group of agents.
Deathstroke immediately realized something was off because the intruders' window breaking and landing stances were too professional. To most people, smashing through a window might seem cool, but without professional training, the best outcome would be full of glass shards.
They entered with their backs first, making an obvious upward motion, landing in front of the shattered glass, using their backs, which had the largest surface area, to hit the ground, and rapidly rolling to avoid hitting the broken glass headfirst.
They were clearly launched in, meaning the whole maneuver was unexpectedly reacted to and completed mid-air. This wouldn't be difficult for Deathstroke—he was the king of battle-hardened mercenaries. But among common folk, no one could act and reach out like that without being strong.
Deathstroke immediately clenched his weapon, took a few steps back, crouched in the corner, and stared intently at the people who had rushed in. He recognized them—it was that bunch of blue-coated dogs from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Deadpool was merrily dancing, oblivious to the people storming in, and even if he had noticed, he wouldn't have been able to analyze the situation as Deathstroke did. He still thought they were just ordinary police, so he wiggled his butt and made a coquettish gesture, saying,
"Hey, don't shoot, I'm Batman. Though I didn't get to show off my sexy chin, you should be able to see these even sexier abs..."
The agents didn't even acknowledge him, not sparing him a glance, nimbly weaving through the bar's obstacles toward another window.
"Hey, buddy, can't you see I'm Batman? You're in trouble!" Deadpool jumped aside and shouted at the group of agents, "You have to believe me, I'm not showing my chin because I didn't want you to see my skin, I..."
Then the ones chasing the group of agents showed up. No wonder these elite agents were being chased so pitifully—they were followed by a group of magicians along with a crowd of mercenaries and killers.
After escaping from the hands of Soviet magicians, these agents naturally felt they couldn't stay and knew they were too late to stop Oliver from returning to Moscow. They had to urgently inform their superiors.
Their rendezvous point was set up on Black Island because it was far from Gotham's mainland and was a place teeming with mixed crowds, making it a relatively easy breach point. After following Oliver here, they took up residence on the island.
But as soon as they returned, they encountered the biggest chaos ever to hit Black Island, with magicians and mercenary killers clashing into a melee.
Having just been pursued by Soviet magicians, already suffering from magician PTSD, they assumed the worst when they saw the tumult and suspected KGB agents had ambushed the place earlier. They decided to strike first.
But when they made their move, the magicians didn't recognize them. How could the mercenaries and killers, who frequently dealt with Federal Bureau of Investigation agents, fail to recognize them?
While the magicians were just causing trouble and many mercenaries and killers were reluctantly dragged into the fray with no prior grudge against them, it was different for the agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Almost everyone here deeply resented them.
When they saw agents join the fight, even though the mercenaries and killers seemed to be attacking the magicians, their bullets, darts, and explosives sometimes deliberately missed their mark, landing on the agents instead.
And how could those agents tolerate that? After years of practicing their grappling skills, would they let these sewer rats trample on their heads and strut around?
When agents clashed with the mercenary killers, the magician thought he had received backup, so he moved towards the agents. However, what the agents despised the most were them, striking them down as well.
Seeing this, the magician realized that someone indiscriminate of friend and foe had emerged, a madman each exceedingly strong. Without neutralizing them first, it'd be difficult to escape.
As a result, it turned into mercenaries and assassins along with the magician ganging up on the agents. No matter how tough these agents were, they couldn't withstand the dual onslaught of physical and magic attacks. What else to do? The old method, run.
Black Island wasn't large to begin with, and the site of the brawl was in the heart of a commercial district. Deathstroke had chosen a specific bar on the island, a place he was more familiar with, to have Deadpool pose as Batman.
Keep in mind that in this world, Batman reveals his true identity online, so almost everyone knows he is Bruce Wayne. Seeing Batman pole dancing might only amuse people, but if Bruce Wayne were to hit the scene, it'd be hard not to suspect he has some special fetishes.
This couldn't exactly be said to strike at Bruce's reputation, it was purely to disgust him.
Deathstroke's plan was solid, but after the agents burst in, everything turned chaotic, and the bar erupted into a fracas.
Deadpool was moving around the cramped bar, spewing trash talk like crazy.
True to his nickname 'Deadpool the Merc with a Mouth,' his mouth was indeed filthy, verbally attacking everyone in the bar within a few short seconds.
The agents were already fuming with anger, and Deadpool's taunts were like pouring gasoline on the fire. None of the agents thought of running away anymore. They rushed towards Deadpool, intent on close-quarters combat.
Deadpool wasn't easy to handle, performing several rolls and agilely leaping over the bar, and truly, no one seemed to get the better of him.
Yet, just as he was smugly picking up a glass as if to admire it, his ankle was pulled.
Deadpool had never worn a uniform with a cape and was unaccustomed to dragging a tail behind him. An agent whom Deathstroke had knocked to the ground reached out and grabbed Deadpool's cape, pulling it and causing Deadpool to lose his balance and stagger in the agent's direction, then yanking his ankle to bring him down.
Deadpool crashed to the floor with a bang. Just as he tried to get up, a dart whizzed past his scalp. Deadpool had no choice but to roll on the spot, kicking the agent away as he rose. Just as he got up, two more darts slashed across his upper arm.
The angles of the two darts crossed, etching a V-shape on his upper arm. As the tight-fitting outer layer fell away, revealing black underneath, it turned out he was wearing his own uniform beneath the bat suit, probably in preparation for a striptease later.
Deadpool seemed completely unfazed by the pain, struggling free, clumsily scrambling up, and screaming as he ran toward Deathstroke. But an agent, who had rolled to the corner and taken position, was ready.
With a series of bangs, the staccato of gunfire marked the emptying of an M9 pistol's magazine. Deadpool, disguised as Batman, fell to the ground in the darkness.
That's where the video ended.
Shiller was very aware Deadpool was just fine – ordinary handgun bullets from over 20 meters wouldn't cause him any fatal injuries, even if he took 15 shots in a matter of seconds. Deadpool's self-healing power was robust enough to handle that.
The most contentious point of the video was that a black color was revealed when Batman's suit was cut open.
Deadpool's costume is black and red, with most of it being red, but his shoulders and the mask area are solid black – precisely where the cut had been made.
With the bar's dim lighting, it was not easy to see clearly. Most people would never think that a lunatic would wear one uniform over another, and naturally, they would assume that the revealed black was his skin.
Moreover, when Deadpool spoke, he had specifically mentioned skin because Deadpool was not from this cosmos, and in this universe, he didn't have much fame. No one knew that he was actually referring to the scars on his skin; people thought he meant skin color.
And just like that, the pot exploded.
The headline "Federal Bureau of Investigation agent empties the magazine on black Batman fan, leading to his death" quickly appeared on the front pages of major websites, followed by the traditional print media.
Thus, nearly 30 years early, the Floyd "I can't breathe" incident, which would rock the 21st century, broke out within the Federation.
Within a few short hours, websites and media commentaries began to ferment wildly, until finally, the West Coast hip-hop giant changed his profile background to black.
Biggie posted an all-black image with the caption, "We will always remember Gotham".