Late night at Elliot Manor.
Gino dropped the canvas bag he was holding.
The young man shed his suit, revealing a body of lean, powerful muscles.
"Zip."
With a swift pull, the zipper opened, and a Talon Assassin outfit spilled out.
Looking at the costume on the ground, Gino was exasperated: "Why do superheroes like wearing uniforms to fight? It's a ridiculous torment."
To be honest, fighting in such a costume was not only stuffy and uncomfortable, but the tight fit also severely restricted the user's movements.
If he moved too much, he might even rip the seams, leading to an embarrassing situation.
Most importantly, if the wearer had any intestinal issues, it would be a disaster…
Kino lazily lay on the bed, kicking the canvas bag under it. He held the green Kryptonite in his hand, absorbing its unique energy.
He pondered everything that had happened tonight.
He had played the Talon Assassin, killing Maroni in front of all of Gotham's dignitaries.
If he guessed correctly, some of the people who had instantly changed their expressions when they saw his disguise at the meeting might be connected to the Court of Owls.
But, Kino wasn't worried at all. He was looking forward to the moment he could catch the rats in the shadows.
Midnight.
The Red Light District was as lively as ever.
Marco was a mid-level mob boss in Gotham City.
To be honest, in Gotham City, where gang competition was incredibly fierce, he couldn't have reached that position on his own.
But fortunately, he received funding from some mysterious individuals, which helped him secure his place.
In return, he occasionally had to help those mysterious people investigate strange occurrences.
For example, tonight, a strange-looking individual assassinated Maroni.
Honestly, Maroni's death was a disaster for the underworld.
His forces were collapsing, and other gangs were already stirring, eager to devour the territory that had belonged to Maroni.
Marco pushed open the door and entered the Olivar Tailor Shop.
"Welcome to Olivar Tailor Shop. How can I help you?"
The person who greeted Marco was an old man in his sixties.
He had a pencil tucked behind his ear, ready for taking measurements, and a tape measure wrapped around one hand – a typical tailor's attire.
Looking at the old tailor, Marco's eyes darted around as he asked with a sly smile, "Excuse me, can you make this kind of outfit?"
He pulled a piece of white paper from his pocket, on which was a drawing of a Talon Assassin's costume.
The old tailor rubbed his eyes and looked at the design, muttering, "Strange, just a few days ago, some young punk asked me to make this outfit too."
Hearing the tailor's words, Marco's breathing quickened.
He hadn't expected to find a lead in the first shop he entered.
"Excuse me, do you know his name?" Marco pursed his lips, looking at the old tailor.
"Ah, my memory isn't what it used to be," the old tailor drawled, a greedy glint in his eyes.
Of course, he remembered the young man. Even though the man wore a mask, he had left his name.
Marco smiled.
Having been involved in both the criminal underworld and the legitimate world for many years, he naturally knew what the other man wanted.
Marco pulled a wad of bills, held together with a small rubber band, from his pocket and tossed it onto the counter.
The old tailor picked up the stack of cash, counted it, and smiled with satisfaction.
He turned and went behind the counter, quickly retrieving a small slip of paper. "This person calls himself Gino Luther, and he lives at Elliot Manor."
"Very good." Marco put the note away with satisfaction.
Then, he raised his left hand.
A dark, black revolver appeared in his grasp.
Bang!
The bullet tore through the old man's skull, his face still wearing a greedy smile as he died.
Marco blew away the wisps of smoke from the gun's muzzle, then reached out and took the stack of banknotes from the old tailor's hands.
He tipped his gentleman's hat to the tailor and turned to leave the shop.
It was the familiar meeting hall again.
A group of powerful figures wearing white owl masks sat in a circle.
"Our loyal hounds have brought the latest news."
The guy sitting in the first seat slowly opened his mouth, "It has been confirmed that the one who framed the Court that night was Gino Luther from Metropolis, the grandson of Loren Elliot."
When they heard the name Elliot, many people in attendance chuckled.
"That loser?"
"Did he instruct his unfortunate grandson to take revenge on us?"
"This guy seems to have gone crazy."
"Is the Luther family involved?"
"A strong dragon can't suppress the local snake, if the Luther family dares to reach out their claws, we'll chop them off!"
They whispered amongst themselves, discussing.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." The leader rapped on the table.
The noise receded like the tide.
In the ensuing silence, the person at the head of the table slowly spoke, "Proceed with the plan we discussed last night."
"Send a Talon to take their lives."
"The Elliot family… that surname is far too old."
"It's time. It's time for it to leave Gotham's stage of history!"
The sky above Gotham was always gray, no matter the time of day.
Woken by the sound of rain, Gino stirred from his slumber early the next morning.
"Damn it all," Gino muttered, rubbing his eyes as he gazed out the window.
A downpour lashed against the gray sky.
Big raindrops hammered the windows, making a cracking sound.
Gino dressed and went downstairs, where he found Dr. Harleen organizing the consultation records on the table.
"Dr. Harleen," Gino glanced at the rain outside, then at the girl. "Good morning."
Harleen gave a shy smile. "Good morning, Mr. Gino."
Gino smiled back but didn't engage in further conversation with the reserved psychiatrist.
He stood before the glass window of the house, his azure eyes gazing out into the distance.
Harleen subconsciously looked at Gino, her gaze fixed on those blue eyes. Curiosity piqued, she couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Gino, what are you looking at?"
"Looking at what?"
Gino's lips curled into a slight smile. He gently closed his eyes, his voice soft, "Miss Harleen, haven't you heard it?"
The psychologist was slightly taken aback, and she even strained her ears, "Heard what?"
Gino didn't answer, instead concentrating his senses on listening.
He could hear the activity outside the manor.
The pattering sound of raindrops, cascading from the sky, hitting the clothes.
It seemed like a group of people were silently approaching the manor.
Gino opened his eyes, and his originally gentle gaze instantly became sharp and terrifying.
Through the glass and the iron gate of Elliot Manor, Gino saw a group of strange people wearing black uniforms and owl-eye masks.
They were all tall and burly, with several throwing knives equipped on the armor belts on their chests, and their hands were inlaid with two cold bayonets, like the Talon's claws, revealing a cold killing intent in the rainy night.
Gino slowly pushed open the gate of the manor.
The youth walked out of the house, allowing the pouring rain to hit him.
Gotham's rain also emitted a cold, pungent chemical smell.
Gino took a deep breath.
He watched as the assassins effortlessly leaped over the two-meter-tall iron fence. They landed silently on the damp ground, their orange-colored visors emitting a piercing light in the rainy night.
Gino smiled, spreading his arms wide and saying,
"Anyone want to leave before we start?"
------------------------
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