Looking at Alan's coy, twisted expression, Russell couldn't help but smile knowingly, thinking to himself, I'll hold this secret over you for life.
Shocking! The unspeakable secret between Batman and the mentally ill.
Daily Bugle, Star City Times, Central City News, New York Herald...
Surely a bunch of media giants would be willing to pay for this exclusive story.
"This is too shameful."
Alan covered his face and ran off with mischievous little steps.
Russell's smile became increasingly wicked, his heart more convinced that this contained world-shocking gossip.
He couldn't help but open the plastic bag and bring it close to his nose for a sniff.
"Batman's scent, heh heh heh..."
Within a second, Russell's expression froze as he discovered his friend Morbius hanging from the ceiling nearby, staring at him with incredulous eyes.
The undisguised surprise and disgust in his gaze made Russell realize his friend had gotten the wrong idea.
Russell hurriedly explained, "It's not what you think! These are Batman's underwear. Alan asked me to track Batman. I don't have any special fetishes—you have to believe me."
"Mm... I believe you," Morbius replied awkwardly.
No, you don't believe me.
There was hesitation in his response.
Watching Morbius turn and leave, Russell angrily threw down the underwear and stomped on it twice in frustration.
"What a disaster!"
Late Night in Gotham
For once, Gotham welcomed a clear night sky, with a half-moon hanging high above, moonlight spilling into every corner of the city.
At this moment, in the quiet metropolis, most people had entered dreamland, with only a few establishments operating until dawn.
"Don't chase me, I'm scared."
Just then, a young man in a hospital gown was running frantically down a deserted street, occasionally looking back in terror.
Suddenly, as the young man looked back, a graceful figure appeared before him like a ghost.
Caught off guard, the young man crashed right into her.
With a thud, the young man fell flat on his bottom.
"Oh my... so bouncy."
Alan's nostrils flared excitedly as he panted heavily, then immediately realized something and corrected himself: "Being a pervert doesn't fit my victim persona."
Instantly, Alan put on a shy, frightened, coy expression and said, "Big sister, I'm very innocent, you know. You can't have naughty thoughts about me. If you force yourself on me, I might not be able to resist."
Meanwhile, another vampire bride blocked Alan's escape route.
But seeing their blood target's appearance, she felt slightly hesitant.
They had followed Dracula to Gotham, recently targeting homeless people and criminals to avoid drawing the Justice League's attention, which made them particularly nostalgic for their days back home.
At least they didn't have to worry about food there, since the world never lacked foolish mortals.
Lately, feeding on homeless blood made them feel nauseous. Encountering such a tender young man, they naturally didn't want to give up easily.
Although he seemed not quite normal, handsome prey was more appetizing.
Like the difference between coarse grains and fine bran.
Actually, that's not quite accurate.
It should be like Eastern cuisine versus Western cuisine.
The former: perfect in color, aroma, and taste, flawless in every aspect.
The latter smells like food and tastes like food but looks like a pile of watery... well, you know.
"Little darling, you finally can't escape."
The vampire bride slowly approached, her tongue licking her two fangs, looking like she wanted to devour him alive.
The other vampire bride said excitedly, "And he's an Asian—a flavor I've never tasted before."
Dracula's territory was in Transylvania, a small European country where even locals were leaving. How could there be business-minded Asians there?
"No way, no way..." Alan muttered in broken English.
Alan's behavior left the two vampire brides somewhat confused.
He removed his shirt and crossed his arms over his chest, wearing an expression of expectant submission.
Wait, we only bite necks—why are you taking off your clothes?
But since he was being so cooperative, it would be rude to be reserved now.
"Little darling, don't be afraid. Sister will send you to paradise."
"You're truly mouth-watering."
The two vampire brides circled around Alan, blowing air teasingly, like cats toying with a mouse before eating it.
As seasoned old vampires, they had to stimulate their food beforehand to accelerate blood circulation, making it taste smoother and more delicious when consumed.
Novice half-bloods didn't understand dining etiquette at all—like starving ghosts reincarnated, they'd bite before the blood was properly heated, which seriously affected the taste.
Moreover, it seemed so crude.
Seasoned vampires needed to package themselves with elegance.
"Don't blow air, I'm ticklish, no way..."
Alan was enjoying himself, coyly exposing his neck like a shameless little temptress.
"Who's there!?"
The two vampire brides stopped their actions, looking at a buzz-cut, muscular man who had appeared before them.
Drake, who had been hiding in the shadows planning a sneak attack, found himself strangely aroused by Alan's provocative behavior.
"Surprise."
Thud!
Alan seized the opportunity to grab both women's necks with his hands, forcing them to crash their heads together.
Instantly, the two vampire brides saw stars.
"Big brother Drake, it's all yours now, I'm counting on you."
Alan gave Drake a meaningful look, picked up his hospital gown, and walked toward the alley exit, muttering, "I sacrificed so much—you better not disappoint me."
Sacrifice?
You seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.
With Dracula's two brides in Drake's hands, he would surely try every means to rescue them.
In their first encounter, Alan had already eliminated one bride. Dracula definitely wouldn't want to lose his right and left arms.
As they exited the alley, Talon assassins hiding on the rooftop launched a surprise attack.
Raising their blades, they dove down in assault.
The sharp blade reflected moonlight's edge, creating a streak of light in the void.
Clang!
A crisp sound echoed.
Orm wielded a silver-white trident, intercepting the Talon assassins' offensive. He then swung in a full circle, forcing all enemies back, gripping his trident vertically in a combat stance.
He and Aquaman were trained by the same master, their techniques virtually identical.
Back then, his defeat came down to having inferior weapons.
After all, the golden trident could be classified as a divine artifact.
"I'll handle them."
Orm's aura suddenly changed, displaying true kingly bearing.
When rescued, he had been skin and bones, like a dying old man. But after soaking in a bathtub, he instantly revived to full health, like an inflatable doll being filled with water.
"Your serious act makes me feel like I don't know you," Alan said, batting his eyes. "Remember when the moon was full over the watermelon fields? That's right, I'm that badger."
"..."
Orm couldn't help but roll his eyes. Just as he'd built up the atmosphere, Alan ruined it with his nonsense, reminding him, "Can't you just put your clothes on?"
"How annoying, hee hee hee..."
Alan shyly turned and ran, holding his clothes to cover his chest with one hand while swinging his other small fist back and forth, his bottom swaying as he ran. The sight made Orm want to hurl his trident and pin him to the ground.
"Damn it, kill him, I can't stand it anymore."
"Don't fight me for this—this guy's been driving me crazy for so long."
"If I don't kill him, I'll feel sick all over."
The Talon assassins had witnessed Alan's provocative behavior multiple times and were absolutely fed up.
This time, seeing Alan wandering around without his Bat-suit, they considered it a golden opportunity.
"Your opponents are me."
Orm stepped directly in front of the Talon assassins.
The next moment, both sides engaged in combat on the street.
Currently, Alan's personal strength was at a level where even without his suit, the Talon assassins couldn't easily challenge him.
After all, having maxed out three professions brought comprehensive physical attribute improvements, already entering superhuman territory.
Of course, having recruited help, Alan didn't want to fight personally anymore.
In Alan's understanding, he was the captain of the Midnight Bullies—personally dealing with small fry would be beneath his dignity.
Orm versus the Talon assassins was a natural counter-match.
He was not only excellent in combat techniques but also possessed innate Atlantean water elemental magic. His custom trident could condense water molecules in a small area, freezing enemy body parts upon contact.
Moreover, Gotham's frequent rainy weather meant abundant water molecules in the air, allowing him to fully display his abilities.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Gotham, a team consisting of Morbius, Russell, and Nick targeted the purebloods.
Russell tracked purebloods through scent, and Nick transformed into a mummy to patrol Gotham's skies and provide directional guidance.
Morbius waited for news, possessing keen hearing that didn't require him to roam the city—he only needed to listen for his companions' calls.
"Found the targets—there are quite a few of them."
Russell tracked them to an old mansion. He not only detected scents different from humans but also smelled blood in the air.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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