Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 4261 - 3360: Bloodbath in New City (72)

The tall man with his upper body naked sat in front of the Doctor. The Doctor was looking at the results of his imaging examination, spouting a slew of professional jargon, then handed him an examination report.

Paul walked out of the clinic, where the manager had been waiting impatiently outside. He said, "You don't understand medicine; why bother listening to all that? Don't worry, we promised you treatment, and we will deliver. When do you plan to kill Tomkins?"

"Tomorrow," Paul swallowed before saying, "But I've been feeling unwell lately. You need to treat me first, otherwise I can't guarantee there won't be any complications."

The manager's expression grew even more impatient. But still, he said, "Fine, return to your ward and wait there. I'll go and ask."

Paul didn't say anything, he took his examination report and went back to his ward. But after returning to the ward, he carefully examined his own results.

Indeed, he couldn't fully comprehend the professional data, but he compared these data with others he had obtained from Tomkins. Then he realized, his results were shockingly similar to those people's.

The same type of cancer, the same development trends, the same rate of deterioration, even the shapes of the images were hardly different. Naturally occurring tumors couldn't be this similar.

Paul slowly closed his eyes. The strings in his heart tightened more and more.

And eventually, when the manager handed him several red pills, that string snapped completely.

"There, this is the miracle drug. Once you've taken it, your cancer won't deteriorate further. Hurry up and take it, then get to work!"

The manager tossed the pills to Paul.

And in the moment when he turned his back to leave. A longsword pierced through his body. Amid the splattering of blood, a tall figure descended like a shadow.

Looking at the slowly collapsing body in front of him, Paul laughed.

He didn't know why he was laughing, it just suddenly seemed funny to him. He released the hand holding the longsword, and tossed the few pills into his mouth.

As the medication gradually began to take effect, he sensed the world in front of him start to change.

He really seemed to have become an avenging angel. The doctors and nurses, coming and going, all their sins laid bare before his eyes.

He didn't know if he was having an episode. He only knew that he had never before felt as powerful as today.

Today, God had recognized his actions as just, given him true freedom, permitted him to punish these sinners with fire. In the end, he would ascend to Heaven upon the deaths of these people, becoming a true angel.

Late at night, the Upper city area was awakened by screams.

Car after car, police vehicles rushed toward a hospital in the Upper city with their sirens wailing. The rich scent of blood drifted on the cold night wind, even stirring an inexplicable chill among the beasts hiding in their warm caves.

When the Deputy Chief of the Gotham Police Department, Harvey Bullock, arrived at the hospital entrance, the sight of the pool of blood in the hospital lobby gave him a very bad feeling.

He looked up, under the dense clouds overhead, a tall figure stood holding a blood-stained longsword, looking down on everyone below from on high. Like an angel descending.

The police raised their guns, aiming at the figure, but Harvey stopped them with a gesture of his hand. He knew someone wouldn't just stand by.

Indeed, a black figure jumped from another building to the top of the hospital. The Bat Cloak flashed before people's eyes.

The red-robed Death Angel turned around. He found it absurdly comical after seeing that somber figure.

"Batman..." he called out his name, seeing flames burning brightly upon him. But no, he thought. Batman might be guilty, but now was not the time for judgment.

"Stop," Batman said. But the Death Angel didn't pause at all, he walked straight toward Batman.

Stopping three meters away from him, the Death Angel raised his longsword, staring at the roaring flames on Batman, and said, "I should have taken revenge on you, Batman. But now, I don't care anymore who this city really belongs to."

"Be it Wayne or Vare. They are all sinners. You as well. One day I will purify all of you with fire—cleanse all these sins!"

Just as Batman's dart was about to leave his hand, he heard a scream from downstairs. He rushed to the edge of the building and looked down to see flames trapping a mother and child on the balcony of the second floor.

Without a thought for anything else, Batman hurriedly jumped down to save them. The Death Angel's figure disappeared into the night.

The fire blazed all night long.

The next morning. The thick smoke intensified the gathering of dark clouds, worsening the air quality. The air seemed to be perpetually filled with the smell of burning flesh, almost nauseating.

But the judgment did not stop. That tall figure wandered the Upper city, judging every sinner he saw. His longsword was covered in the blood of sin. The screams made the place seem like Hell.

The security forces organized by the rich were useless; Paul had completely lost his mind. A mentally unstable patient who could fully relax his muscle constraints. The burning flames in his heart also made him abandon all rules and morals, leaving only the desire to kill.

A bloody storm is spreading across the upper city area.

The once quiet and leisurely parks no longer had the sight of people picnicking, and the streets were devoid of leisurely strollers. Police and ambulance sirens wailed frequently; uniformed figures were everywhere, armed security guards watched vigilantly, and people loitered uneasily inside windows.

In the Gotham Police Department office. Harvey hung up another phone call. He'd lost count of how many pleasantries he had exchanged today, but no one could truly comfort a rabbit hiding in a snake's lair.

Nightwing walked in, looking very tired. He sighed and said, "Fei Jia is still dead. Severe full-body burns, didn't make it through three hours."

"Any news on that madman?"

"No. We can't catch him. They never allowed GTO to enter the upper city area before; they regarded us like dog shit. Now we are unfamiliar with the terrain, hindering our search; can we really be blamed for not being dedicated enough?"

Harvey replied somewhat helplessly, "In a way, it's their own fault. If they hadn't constantly complained about the police, invariably resulting in punishments and job losses, the rank and file wouldn't be so jittery."

"But we can't let this madman keep slaughtering. Fei Jia might not be a good man, but his little three-year-old daughter was burnt to a crisp in her own room..."

Nightwing's fists slowly clenched, as if recalling some unpleasant images. After pausing, he took a deep breath and said, "Even if he wants revenge, killing so many people should be enough. We need to find a way to stop him."

"That's easy for you to say." Harvey extinguished his cigarette, turned around, and said, "That guy must have eaten something extraordinary to grow up so strong. He's like a tank, still able to run off like nothing happened after taking two bullets. Maybe he's Bane's brother."

Hearing Bane's name, Nightwing said, "So could we have Bane go after him?"

"Are you crazy?" Harvey looked at him in shock and said, "The Death Angel is a madman, isn't Bane one too? If you let him out, we would have to deal with two madmen."

"At least we can communicate with Bane; we could hire him." Nightwing said, "If Bane can take care of him, great. If not, Batman can clean up the mess."

"You really are Batman's good assistant," Harvey couldn't help saying. "If he knew you got him this gig, would all your bonuses be docked?"

"I don't have a bonus, I don't even have a salary." Nightwing said, "But I'm not hurting Batman; this is his duty."

"So why not let him deal with the Death Angel directly?"

In truth, Nightwing didn't know why Batman hadn't gone after the Death Angel. By all accounts, Batman should be tracking Death Angel by now and have engaged in combat. But right now, there was complete silence as if he was investigating something else.

Harvey waved his hand and said, "Your plan is too insane. We can't use it unless it's absolutely necessary. Let's search for a while longer."

Nightwing had no choice but to leave. Just as he went downstairs, Batgirl greeted him, "Guess what I found out?"

"What?"

"Do you know who the Death Angel is?"

"...Who?"

"His name is Paul. He used to live near San Marino Church. But that's not important, the important thing is, he is a descendent of a mysterious figure."

"A mysterious figure?"

"Yes." Batgirl said as she walked alongside Nightwing, "If you want to investigate the history of Gotham, you can't just look into Gotham's history. I checked the history of East London in England and found many key clues."

"In the diary of a sheriff from East London, a jailbreak incident was recorded—a Divine officer with a plump figure and white beard in red attire robbed a convoy. Within that convoy, a man charged with impersonating nobles was named Edmond Wayne."

"This Divine officer called himself Bakar. He came from an ancient family in England, the Vare family, and later became a Priest of the Order Sect. He managed to save an ancestor of the Wayne Family and came with him to the New Continent."

"I speculate they might have reached some sort of agreement, sharing things equally perhaps. But in the end, Bakar's records were erased, and only Edmond Wayne remained in history."

"And this man named Paul is the descendant of Bakar, the last blood member of the Vare family." Batgirl stopped, turned around, and said, "His return this time is likely for revenge against the descendants of the Wayne Family."

"I understand what you're saying." Nightwing nodded, "He wants revenge against the Wayne Family, so why are others the ones suffering?"

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

"Uh..." Batgirl choked for a moment and then said, "I found his medical records in the healthcare System. He's a bona fide madman, I mean, a psychiatric patient. So it's possible he's just going insane."

"Is that your conclusion?"

"I'm not guessing the reason for Paul's killings; I'm guessing why Batman hasn't acted for so long."

"So what is it?"

"If Edmond Wayne was a treacherous thief, then wouldn't Batman's years of defending Gotham be a joke?"