A gunshot ignited panic throughout the entire street.
People screamed and scattered in all directions.
These local Gothamites had extensive experience in the art of running for their lives.
"Too noisy."
Gino frowned, and in the next second, he slowly started walking.
He had to ensure Bruce didn't die here. The reason was simple: from the time they met until now, Bruce had only provided him with "500" Negative Points.
This "lamb" still had plenty of "wool" to shear. Even a capitalist knew how to recycle, and Gino didn't intend to let Bruce die just like that.
As Gino lifted his right foot.
The air seemed to thicken.
Whoosh!
Everything around seemed to have been put on slow motion. The bullets, which had been spinning rapidly, now pierced the air at a slow speed, the tail of the bullets trailing a beautiful conical airflow.
The shoe stepped onto the cold ground again.
The light cast by the purple neon lights gradually froze in the air, and the spinning bullets stopped in mid-air.
Time was completely "frozen."
The panicked people, the faces of the Corrupt Police contorted in rage.
Everything seemed to have been paused.
Space and time seemed to freeze at this moment, like a beautiful movie scene.
Gino wasn't surprised by all of this. The faster the speed, the slower time moved. This was related to time relativity, proposed by the great physicist Einstein.
And the step he had just taken, for human time measurement units, seemed to have only taken 0.01 milliseconds, or even less? In short, extraordinary speed could increase his own action speed to the point of approaching the speed of light, thus infinitely extending time and achieving the miracle of "pausing time."
Of course, strictly speaking, Gino hadn't paused time. He was just exceeding the time unit set by humans, achieving the "Time Dilation" effect mentioned by Einstein in physics.
He was fast, and everything around him would slow down.
Gino strolled leisurely.
The expressions of those around him froze at this moment.
He walked over to Bruce, looking at the wound on Bruce's thigh and his furrowed brow.
He turned and glanced at the two bullets aimed at Bruce.
If nothing unexpected happened, one of the bullets, following its straight trajectory, would hit Bruce's left chest in the next second.
The other bullet would hit Bruce's other, uninjured left calf muscle.
This wasn't a situation Gino wanted: only a living Bruce was a good Bruce.
"Sigh, troublesome."
Gino stepped towards the bullets.
He walked up and pinched the bullet that was about to hit Bruce's left chest between his fingers.
The bullet felt warm and scorching, hot enough to burn, but it couldn't harm him in the slightest.
Gino simply squeezed the bullet with his hand, deforming the copper metal of the projectile.
He held the bullet, crushing it in his palm.
As for the other one? The bullet that struck Bruce would provide him with a considerable amount of points.
Then, he returned to his original position.
Looking at everything frozen around him, Gino understood some of the Speedster's joy.
If a Speedster wanted to do something bad while everything was still, they might need only a few years to get half the women in America pregnant.
However, Gino was pessimistic about this. The premise for doing this was that the unlucky guy's body could handle it.
The young man smiled, shaking his head to clear the chaotic thoughts from his mind. He raised his right arm and snapped his fingers, two fingers crossed.
"Snap!"
The crisp sound of the snap echoed, and the chaotic noise of the red-light district returned.
Bruce's thoughts were still stuck on the moment he heard the gunshot.
The next instant, a tingling sensation ran through his right calf.
It felt like something had hit him. Bruce looked down and saw his left leg covered in blood. The previously intact denim jeans were scorched by the bullet's heat, emitting a foul smell.
The bloody, mangled wound brought Bruce back to reality. He knew what had happened.
He had been shot.
This terrible news cast a shadow over Bruce's already gloomy mood.
[Negative Points from Bruce Wayne +20…]
Bruce took a deep breath.
He knew he had to remain calm in this situation.
The man looked around.
A panicked crowd fleeing, and two Corrupt Police officers approaching him.
And, in the corner, a tall young man wearing a Bat Mask and a tracksuit.
He saw the man open his palm, and a shriveled bullet fell out, hitting a puddle and splashing droplets.
He saw the masked man take a long look at him.
Subsequently, the person actually vanished into thin air?
Bruce wanted to rub his eyes, trying to prove his vision wasn't playing tricks on him.
He then thought about his purpose for coming to this street.
To witness the changes and development of Gotham, and then, to make up his mind to challenge the city's evils.
However, the very first step of his journey caused Bruce to be severely frustrated.
The force on his shoulders brought Bruce back to reality.
Two Corrupt Police, one on each side, seized the weakened Bruce and escorted him into the police car.
"Hey, you unlucky guy, you'll need to spend the night in the detention center tonight!"
Bruce wanted to resist, but he'd lost too much blood. His body was weak, and he couldn't move.
Bruce was shoved into the police car, leaning weakly against the back seat.
The window slowly rolled up, and the car pulled away from the alley.
Bruce strained to turn his head and look out the window.
Under the neon lights, at the entrance of the alley, the guy wearing the Bat Mask appeared abruptly and without warning.
He tilted his head, then held up two fingers, and with his other hand, made a gun gesture, aiming at his temple.
Then, the figure vanished again without a trace, as if he had just been a phantom.
"What!?" This bizarre and terrifying scene made Bruce's breathing quicken.
What was that thing implying?
This was the first thought that popped into Bruce's mind.
The smarter a person was, the more things their brain came up with.
His thoughts were unconsciously pulled back to a long time ago.
Two fallen people, a gun, two bullets.
Bruce fell into the memory, as if he was standing in the familiar alley again, the cold cement floor seemed to forever have an indelible bloodstain.
He remembered a lot.
He remembered the movie he watched that night.
He remembered his parents holding his hand as they entered the dark alley.
He remembered the masked killer who suddenly appeared.
He remembered the black gun spitting out orange flames.
He remembered his father's roar, his mother's scream, and the broken pearl necklace hitting the ground.
It seemed as if his parents' faces and voices from the past were still present in his mind.
Bruce's expression grew increasingly grim.
If anything was Bruce's Achilles' heel, then the death of his parents was definitely it.
"No matter who you are," Bruce's voice held a hint of anger, "I remember you."
[Negative Points from Bruce Wayne +1000, +1000…]
PS: The author is a humanities student, and the concept of Time Dilation is based on information found on Baidu. If any readers find errors, please point them out, and I will correct them. Over.
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