Spider-Man’s death made many people sad.
But at the same time, it also made many people happy.
For example, the group of thugs conducting an illegal drug deal in a back alley were clearly no longer as tense as they had been before.
Even their voices had become several notches louder.
“Hahaha! That guy who’s always swinging around above the city is finally dead.”
In the alley, one thug looked at the news notification on his phone and happily spoke to his companion.
If they had any beer with them, Wayne had no doubt they would have been raising their glasses in celebration the very next second.
“Enough. Spider-Man’s gone, but who knows if some other weirdo will show up and stir up trouble.”
The other man involved in the deal was obviously much more cautious.
He still hadn’t lowered his guard, constantly scanning the surroundings out of the corner of his eye for the appearance of any other street-level heroes.
If even one showed up, the deal would definitely be disrupted.
It would be far better to finish the transaction as quickly as possible and let nothing happen.
Then everyone could go home and get a good night’s sleep.
“What are you so afraid of? Who’s going to come after us now? They’re probably all busy holding a memorial for Spider-Man.”
The thug who had spoken earlier was completely fearless.
He even tilted his head up to look directly above the alley.
“There’s no—”
Before he could finish speaking, a figure entered his field of vision.
It was…
A bat.
The bat’s shadow flashed past, and the only thing he saw afterward was a specially reinforced combat boot.
Wayne leapt down from above.
The black cape behind him spread like a bat unfurling its wings the instant he jumped, slowing his descent slightly.
But a moment later, the cape surrendered to Newton’s laws, snapping violently in the wind as Wayne plummeted.
Boom!
Wayne’s heavy kick knocked the thug unconscious before he even had the chance to feel any pain.
Youth really was a wonderful thing.
Whenever they wanted to sleep, they could always fall asleep instantly.
The other thug had no intention of drawing his gun.
His first instinct was to turn and run.
Years of criminal experience had already taught today’s criminals one simple truth:
When facing these masked freaks…
Don’t try to fight them.
Don’t try to reason with them.
Your only choices were to surrender…
Or run.
If you were lucky enough, you just might escape from one of these masked lunatics.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
A deep, devil-like voice sounded beside the thug’s ear.
He slammed straight into Wayne.
The impact didn’t move Wayne an inch.
Instead, the thug was the one who fell flat on the ground.
Looking up at Wayne, he scrambled backward on his hands and feet, unable to understand how the man who had been behind him only moments ago had suddenly appeared in front of him.
In the darkness of the alley, he couldn’t make out the expression in Wayne’s eyes.
Wayne’s gaze swept over the items in the thug’s hands.
He hated people who dealt in illegal drugs.
He hated them.
Wayne continued walking forward, closing the distance.
The darkness surrounding him only doubled the thug’s fear.
With every step Wayne took, the terror in the thug’s heart grew even greater.
Unable to endure it any longer, the thug yanked the pistol from his waist.
Unfortunately for him, his movements were painfully slow in Wayne’s eyes.
Before the thug could even aim the gun, Wayne had already thrown a Batarang.
The razor-sharp Batarang wasn’t aimed at the gun.
Its target was the thug’s wrist.
“AAAH!! MY HAND!!”
The thug clutched his right wrist and screamed in agony.
The Batarang had pierced straight through his forearm.
Wayne merely watched him coldly.
“The Batarang didn’t damage any vital parts of your forearm. It just hurts.”
Wayne paid no attention whatsoever to the thug’s cries.
He spoke as though he were commenting on something that had nothing to do with him.
Perhaps because Wayne now possessed all the abilities of a certain Batman, the moment he looked at the thug, his instincts had already mapped out every location on the man’s body where he could be subdued without being killed.
To Wayne, the thug looked no different from a corpse that had already been completely dissected.
“You’re a monster!”
The thug shouted through tears and snot.
But Wayne didn’t care in the slightest.
He walked over, lifted the man with one hand, and slammed him against the wall.
“Now, I ask. You answer.”
Wayne leaned his face close to the thug’s.
The perpetually furious-looking bat mask was, in the thug’s eyes, more terrifying than anything imaginable.
“I’ll talk! Just… don’t drain all my blood!”
The thug’s face was filled with terror as he nodded frantically.
He seemed genuinely afraid that the man before him would suck every last drop of blood from his body.
Before Wayne could ask his first question, a strand of web shot out and stuck to the thug, yanking him into the middle of the alley.
When a man dressed like a demonic bat—strong enough to lift a full-grown adult with one hand—interrogates someone in such a terrifying voice…
Who would honestly believe the bat-like man was the good guy?
At least, to someone who had just arrived in this world, the answer seemed painfully obvious.
Sometimes…
It wasn’t only superheroes who wore masks.
Supervillains hid their faces too, making themselves look even more frightening.
Right now, Wayne fit this Spider-Man’s image of a supervillain perfectly.
“You really hit hard, buddy.”
Spider-Man looked at the Batarang that had pierced the thug’s forearm.
“I know you’re a huge Batman fan, but Batman wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Nor would he go around committing crimes in dark alleys.”
Wayne carefully sized up this obviously down-on-his-luck Spider-Man.
He truly didn’t want to assume the worst about the man’s circumstances.
But the fact was…
He wasn’t even wearing shoes.
And he had put on a bit of a belly.
Perhaps noticing Wayne’s gaze lingering on his stomach, Spider-Man casually waved a hand.
“Probably some kind of dimensional disturbance or something. I used to be in fantastic shape.”
Stopping about five meters in front of Spider-Man, Wayne spoke quietly.
“You smell like pizza.”
“Bacon and cheese.”
“Hm?”
Wayne’s words immediately made Spider-Man sniff himself, but he couldn’t smell any pizza at all.
“Heh. Nice try, buddy.”
Spider-Man shook a finger, indicating that Wayne was teasing him.
“The man beside you is dealing illegal drugs, carrying an illegal firearm, and has blood on his hands.”
Wayne didn’t continue discussing what Spider-Man had eaten for dinner.
Instead, he shifted his gaze toward the thug, who was now too terrified to move.
“Uh…”
Spider-Man also turned to look at the thug.
The thug immediately nodded frantically at the scruffy-looking Spider-Man, confirming that Wayne was telling the truth.
At the very least, criminals knew that if they couldn’t escape one of these masked vigilantes, the best option was to find Spider-Man and let him take them to the police station.
That way…
They would survive.
But when facing someone like Wayne—a complete unknown who had knocked his partner unconscious with a single strike—
He simply didn’t dare gamble on whether Wayne might actually kill him.
“Looks like I misunderstood you.”
Spider-Man turned back, intending to apologize to Wayne.
The problem was…
Wayne was already gone.
“I hate it when that happens.”
After tying up the thug with webbing and casually bandaging the wound where the Batarang had pierced his arm, Spider-Man used the thug’s phone to call the police.
Then he disappeared from the thug’s sight.
Because of a certain someone’s unexpected interference, Wayne now had to find another target to replenish his wallet.
“I should’ve retrieved the Batarang.”
Thinking about the Batarang he had left behind, Wayne frowned.
He didn’t have a Batcave serving as his logistical support.
Every single Batarang was an irreplaceable resource.
Each one was precious.
“I think you forgot something.”
A slightly cheeky voice sounded beside Wayne’s ear.
Spider-Man had caught up.
And in his hand…
Was the very Batarang Wayne had thrown earlier.
(End of Chapter)