Wayne Tower rooftop, helipad.
This was Gotham City's highest point, a symbol of power and wealth. But at this moment, it had transformed into an isolated gladiatorial arena, ruled by a raging storm.
The gale, carrying icy rain, lashed everything on the helipad like countless invisible steel needles. The wind howled mournfully, like the wails of the defeated. The sky was shrouded by thick, impenetrable dark clouds, pressing down heavily as if it could collapse at any moment. Gotham City's myriad lights, in the wind and rain, blurred into distant, indistinct halos, appearing so unreal.
Bane stood in the center of this storm.
He had long since torn off the "civilized" suit jacket he wore, standing bare-chested, allowing the icy rain to wash over his bronze, terrifying muscles, sculpted like granite. Every muscle was bulging, full of explosive power, as if he were not flesh and and blood, but parts of some War Machine.
Without hesitation, he injected a triple dose of "Titan" super venom, all at once, into his body through the controller on his wrist!
"Hiss—!!!"
Accompanied by a teeth-grinding sound of liquid pumping, emerald green venom surged wildly into his circulatory system through the thick tubes on his arms. Visibly, green veins, like living vipers, writhed and pulsed wildly beneath his skin, emitting an ominous, eerie glow.
His body, at a speed that defied biological common sense, expanded once more! Muscle fibers were forcibly torn and instantly reorganized, and bones emitted a groaning "creak" under the strain. Each of his heartbeats roared like a heavy war drum, so powerful that it even made the surrounding air vibrate. The terrifying high temperature emanating from his body instantly evaporated the rain falling on him into white steam, enveloping him like a War Colossus that had emerged from the depths of hell, craving destruction and slaughter.
He was no longer human.
His eyes, completely bloodshot and crimson from the overstimulation of the venom, stared fixedly, unblinkingly, at the torn dark clouds above.
A black batplane, like the wings of a demon, descended silently from the clouds.
The batplane hovered steadily at a height of about ten meters from the helipad ground. The powerful engine's jet stream blew away the accumulated water on the ground, creating a large, dry circular area.
The cockpit canopy slid open silently.
Bruce Wayne, unlike the original host, did not habitually seek out shadows or hide in the darkness.
He walked towards Bane, who was in the center of the storm, step by step, like a monarch arriving in his own territory.
Each of his steps was steady and powerful. His specially made alloy combat boots stepped on the wet ground, splashing tiny circles of water. The rhythmic "tap, tap" sound, however, seemed to carry a certain magic, precisely aligning with Bane's furious heartbeat, making the latter inexplicably feel a surge of irritation and suppression.
The Arkham Knight's cold, murderous silhouette, illuminated by lightning occasionally tearing through the night sky, appeared both ferocious and sacred. On his faceplate, the two eerie blue electronic eyepieces, against this backdrop of darkness and chaos, were like two cold stars from a Zero degree Universe, devoid of any human emotion, only pure, rational judgment.
"You... finally came, Bat!" Bane's voice, made to rumble like distant thunder by his over-expanded muscles, each word filled with bloodthirsty excitement and cruel pleasure, "This time, no more of your ridiculous little toys! No more of your lackeys hiding in the gutters! Only you! And me!"
He took a step forward, and the special concrete ground beneath his feet was actually cracked into a spiderweb pattern by him!
"I will make you watch! How I break—you—again!"
Before the last syllable fell, the ground beneath his feet suddenly exploded! His entire body, like a heavy cannonball leaving its barrel, charged straight towards Bruce, carrying an unparalleled force capable of tearing through the air! His massive, cauldron-sized fist, letting out a sharp whistle, aimed directly for Bruce's head!
This punch, condensing all his strength and fury, was enough to blast the frontal armor of an M1A2 main battle tank, along with its crew, into a pulp!
However, Bruce's reaction was inhumanly fast. His "Tactical Mastermind" had already calculated the opponent's attack trajectory, speed, and strength the instant Bane's muscles tensed.
Just a thousandth of a second before the furious punch was about to touch his faceplate, his body leaned back slightly at an incredible, almost imperceptible angle. At the same time, his right foot, as if gliding on ice, slid forward a precise half-step.
He thus, like the most skilled bullfighter taunting a raging bull, narrowly allowed Bane's earth-shattering heavy punch to graze his chest plate.
The violent punch wind even tore open a temporary vacuum corridor in the rain for several meters behind him!
This was one of the essences of "Ultimate Combat Arts"—never confront absolute power head-on. Use the smallest movements and the most precise calculations to dismantle the strongest forces.
Missing his strike, Bane's extensive combat experience left him no room for hesitation. He engaged his core, his body spun abruptly, and a powerful, sweeping kick, carrying the force to snap a steel pillar, swept towards Bruce's lower body.
But Bruce had already anticipated all his subsequent moves.
The moment Bane turned, the servo motors in his legs instantly engaged, and his entire body, like a weightless phantom, glided back several meters, perfectly dodging the sweeping kick. At the same time, he flipped his wrist, and three cold-glowing Bat-darts, forming a triangular pattern, shot out silently.
The target was precisely the fragile connection points of the venom tubes on the back of Bane's mask!
This was precisely the fighting style that the original Bruce Wayne excelled at—using ingenious tools and precise analysis of enemy weaknesses for efficient strikes.
"Clang! Clang! Bang!"
Crisp metallic collision sounds rang out. Bane's reaction was equally swift; he blocked the three deadly darts with his arms, which had hardened like steel. But even he had three shallow white marks carved into his arms by the sharp dart blades.
He grinned menacingly, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: "It's useless, Bat! Your little tricks no longer work on me!"
Bruce did not respond with words. Because for a dying man, any words were superfluous.
He closed in again.
This time, he no longer merely dodged and used small tools. He unleashed a suffocating barrage of continuous attacks, like a raging storm.
His attack style perfectly blended two distinct yet equally deadly styles—the surgical precision of the original Bruce Wayne and the devastating lethality of the peak Arkham Knight!
At times, he would sink his shoulders and drop his elbows, employing the essence of Wing Chun's Chi Sao, his arms clinging to Bane's wild swings like a persistent parasite, neutralizing his immense power through body rotation and shifts in his center of gravity.
At other times, he would instantly change his tactics, his style becoming ruthless and direct. The most vicious elbow strikes and knee kicks from Krav Maga were utilized to their fullest. Each of his attacks precisely struck Bane's vulnerable spots such as the soft tissue under his ribs, knee joints, and carotid artery.
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Hey there, from now on it'll be only one chapter per day... don't get used to it though lmao.
I already have two fanfics on my profile, one about GoT and another related to anime worlds. I hope you're enjoying the book and keep leaving comments on the chapters, a lot of them are hilarious and I really enjoy reading them.
If you want to read some advanced chapters, my Patreon link is down below.
Anyway, see ya!
Link: patreon.com/ShadowNamelesz