"Batman!?" Commander Ross's face briefly showed a flash of shock, quickly replaced by a hardened, scrutinizing stare.
The Ninth Special Service Division's aircraft carrier was supposed to be the safest place in the world. Yet, here stood Batman, having casually waltzed in, even intruding directly into the captain's office. It was one thing to breach the carrier's defenses, but to do so while the captain was present—with Ivan Petrov, in tow—was another level of audacity.
The automatic door clamped shut behind him with a loud thud, the final lock sealing everyone inside.
Ivan, somehow standing next to Batman, leveled a shotgun at Ross's head, his stance rigid and his gaze unyielding. Ivan, formerly taken from this very ship, had evidently undergone a transformation. The same agent they once pursued now held his captain at gunpoint, his finger hovering near the trigger.
Ross: "…"
Batman hadn't just broken in; he had brought back one of their own, now turned against them. Ross could only marvel at the sheer boldness of the intrusion, almost appreciating the theatrical nature of it.
The silence was broken by Ross's cold, measured voice as he took in the scene. "So, I assume you've hacked the door lock system…and the surveillance, too?" His gaze flickered between Batman and Ivan. "Thanks for confirming, but you've only managed the basics. The systems in here operate independently. I doubt even you could override them."
Ivan smirked, showing a flash of his newfound confidence. "Why bother doubting? He's Batman."
Ross didn't give Ivan any more attention than a dismissive glance. He was fixated on Batman, who stood silently, watching Ross as if he were dissecting every inch of his psyche.
"And how did you figure it was me?" Ross asked, his voice low but sharp.
Charlie had not been entirely certain of Ross's involvement until now. But this confrontation was the proof he needed. The silence that followed weighed heavy, filling the space between them like the foreboding calm before a storm.
Instead of answering, Batman threw back his own question, his voice cold and methodical. "What is the 'Pretti Project'?"
Ross's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "Ah, so that's what brought you here. I take it you found your way into my server room? Impressive. I'll wager you also uncovered nine other similar locations, didn't you? Like Hercules's safe house and Miyazaki's lab?"
Charlie's investigation had indeed led him to Professor Miyazaki's lab first. Records there showed Miyazaki crafting a meticulous arrest plan targeting their top agents, initially implicating him as the ringleader. But further probing had revealed that Miyazaki was merely following orders—orders issued by none other than Commander Ross.
Ivan's face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he fixed his gaze on Ross. So, it had been him all along, lurking in the shadows, steering their setbacks and sabotaging their every effort.
"I'm guessing you're recording this?" Ross asked, his voice carrying a faint edge of amusement. "Good. Now I get to tell my side—how a man can fall, accept dark influences, and end up here. Maybe I'll even outline my evil plan for you. Isn't that what you're expecting?"
Ivan was done listening. He pulled the trigger, his face a mask of grim resolve as the shotgun roared to life—a blast of searing projectiles that streaked toward Ross like a miniature swarm of arrows.
But not a single one found its mark.
Just as the gun fired, an inky-black substance seeped from Ross's skin, forming a barrier. For a fleeting instant, it looked almost liquid, flowing from every pore, every fiber of his clothing, before solidifying in the air to form an impenetrable shield. The bullets collided with it and bounced off harmlessly, clattering to the floor with dull metallic echoes.
Ivan's eyes widened, a flicker of confusion darting across his face. What on Earth was this?
Batman was already in motion. The moment Ivan had fired, Charlie had sprung into action, his enhanced power armor propelling him forward with a fluidity that belied its weight. He moved as a blur, a phantom in the dim light, homing in on Ross with unerring precision.
As the last bullet bounced off the barrier, Batman reached Ross, aiming a powerful punch to his side. But Ross wasn't caught off guard.
That black substance reappeared, flowing from his body once more, morphing into a solid barrier that halted Batman's fist mid-swing. The force of the impact shuddered through Batman's gauntlet, but the defense held, as unyielding as tempered steel.
In the heartbeat that followed, a streak of red flashed above Ross's head, crackling like a bolt of lightning. Batman only had a split second to react as a jagged barb shot from the shield, aiming to impale him. His reflexes, amplified by his suit, allowed him to narrowly evade the strike, backflipping away with a powerful push from his armor.
As Batman landed, Ivan had already switched weapons, conjuring a machine gun and letting loose a hail of bullets. The rounds arced through the air, a blazing trail of light and metal aimed directly at Ross. But the black barrier moved fluidly to intercept, bending and stretching along with Ross's movements, deflecting each round with effortless grace.
Commander Ross stood amidst the chaos, his posture relaxed, hands clasped behind his back. He looked like a man waiting patiently in line rather than under siege from an onslaught of gunfire. His shield, an extension of his will, kept every bullet and shard of shrapnel at bay.
"It doesn't matter what attack you throw at me," Ross said with a smirk. "This shield responds on its own. It's a defense that no earthly force can breach. I call it the 'Tis shield,' formed from a substance that predates this world. Nothing can damage it."
Ivan gritted his teeth, his gun morphing yet again—this time into a rocket launcher. He seized the moment, firing a missile directly at Ross. The impact was devastating, shaking the entire room, shredding furniture, and sending debris flying in all directions.
When the smoke cleared, Ross was untouched. The shield had protected him entirely, standing like an unyielding wall between him and the devastation around him.
With a calm smile, Ross glanced at the two figures facing him. "As I said, nothing in this world can harm it."
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[TL Note - The 'Pritti Project' might be an error in translation; I'll leave it for now]