Chapter 75: Batboy's Life Is in Danger Again
"I can't walk anymore."
Poison Ivy, Lillian, squatted by the roadside, looking at Allen with a face full of frustration.
In the middle of the night, he had broken her out of Arkham Asylum—only to make her walk to the city on foot.
For reference, Arkham was built in the suburbs, dozens of kilometers away from Gotham. Walking the whole way? That was pure torture.
At this hour, there was no chance of a car passing by.
"Come on, Greenie, don't be so delicate. To achieve greatness in crime, one must first endure hardship, exhaust their body, starve their flesh, drain their spirit, and struggle against adversity. Only then can the mind be tempered and the will strengthened. Oh yeah!" Allen made a fist-pump gesture.
"…"
Lillian stared at him, utterly baffled. She didn't understand a word of the classical Chinese he just spewed and sighed in frustration. "I don't want to commit crimes. I'm not crazy."
"You say that like I am," Allen scoffed.
"As expected, a lunatic never admits they're sick." Lillian sighed again.
Allen retorted with a serious face, "Having mental issues has nothing to do with my brain."
"…"
If you don't have a brain, where does your mind come from?
Forget it. She was too tired to argue with a lunatic. Lillian simply lay down on the ground, gazing up at Gotham's perpetually overcast night sky. Dark and deep—just like Batman's cape.
Allen lay down beside her, one hand behind his head, the other resting on his waist, one leg crossed over the other. In a gentle voice, he coaxed, "Moe Moe, get up. You can do it, Moe Moe."
"Who the hell is Moe Moe?"
Lillian asked resentfully, her wariness rising. "What are you up to?"
"Moe Moe is a little pony." Allen replied with all seriousness.
"That's not what I was asking!"
Lillian, utterly exasperated, ran her hands through her red hair, turning it into a bird's nest. She blew a frustrated breath, sending her bangs flying, her mental state teetering on the edge.
"And you say you're not sick? Your emotions are all over the place. Dr. Allen's diagnosis: manic disorder."
Allen raised both hands as if consulting his left and right hand for treatment plans.
"Nurse Right suggests soothing therapy."
"Nurse Left recommends half an hour of physical therapy."
Allen nodded in agreement. "A half-hour session might not be effective enough. At least an hour is needed."
"What are you planning?!"
Lillian bolted upright in fear, jumping several meters away.
An hour of beatings? She'd be unrecognizable!
"Forget it. I'll treat you another day. This time, I called you out to help make an antidote for reversing vampirism."
Allen stroked his chin, smirking. "Though, I'd prefer if you could develop a drug that turns people into succubi to 'save' Gotham."
"Are you insane?!"
Lillian was beyond furious. "I'm a botanist, not a biologist! How the hell am I supposed to create a reversal serum?!"
Click.
Allen flicked open a lighter and lit it, his tone calm. "I'm a reasonable guy. I never force people to do things… You don't feel forced, do you?"
At that moment, Lillian recalled the Joker, who had been driven into a silent breakdown in Arkham.
His scalp was covered in horrifying burn scars.
If that happened to her—just the thought made her shudder.
She cherished her vibrant red hair. She couldn't bear to imagine losing it.
"As a Gotham citizen, contributing to the city is only right." Lillian's attitude took a complete 180. "Let's go. I can't wait to help."
Allen gave her an approving look. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you."
Just then, a car approached from the distance.
"Get ready to hijack it."
Allen executed a perfect frog leap into the roadside ditch, whispering, "You pretend to hail a ride. Once the car stops, I'll rob the driver."
"…"
His mental state was all over the place.
One second, he was grandly talking about saving Gotham. The next, he was planning a carjacking.
It was like he was walking a tightrope between heaven and hell. A true paradox of a man.
What choice did Lillian have? She was in his hands now, and who knew if he'd actually resort to that "physical therapy" of his.
With a resigned sigh, she raised her hand and stuck out her thumb.
The engine roared closer, its blinding headlights making it impossible to see.
Screech—!
A sudden brake. A black armored SUV came to a halt in the middle of the road.
Allen jumped out of the ditch, shouting, "Hands up! Feet out! Show me if you've got three birthmarks!"
The car door opened, and Damian Wayne looked at him, confused.
"Oh, it's you." Allen's excitement faded. "Never mind. I don't rob acquaintances."
"Get in. We have a problem. We need your help."
Due to the vampires' extreme danger, Bruce had sent Damian as backup.
And, just as expected, when Bruce and Eric arrived at the 11th floor of Starlight Tower, they walked right into a trap.
At this point, the only available backup was Allen, so Damian had been sent to pick him up.
"That Bat just won't let me relax."
Allen sighed. "Oh well, I spoil him."
As soon as he got in, Damian spun the wheel, making a sharp U-turn toward Gotham.
"Find a lab. Greenie here will work on the antidote."
Allen hadn't forgotten about Poison Ivy.
She was a specialist, and with her plant-controlling abilities, she was more than capable of handling various tasks.
"I'll drop you off first, then take her to a secret lab." Damian responded.
Bruce, ever meticulous, had multiple backup bases. Not only did they serve as supply stations, but they also showcased the wealth of Gotham's richest man.
A dedicated lab for antidote research? Of course, he had one.
…
Starlight Tower.
Among Gotham's many skyscrapers, it wasn't particularly eye-catching.
Official records listed it as belonging to a pharmaceutical company.
At this moment, Bruce was panting slightly as he faced his enemy.
The moment he and Eric entered the building, they were ambushed by vampires and the Talon assassins.
After a fierce battle, the two had gotten separated.
"Batman, heh…"
A burly vampire sneered. "I'm going to rip that mask off with my own hands and see what you really look like."
No need for words.
Bruce responded by throwing a Batarang.
Fighting vampires required preparation. They couldn't be treated as ordinary foes.
Underestimating them could lead to a fatal mistake.
The Court of Owls and the vampires weren't to be trifled with. The Talons had been pitted against Blade, while the vampires focused on Batman. This tactical setup gave them an advantage in intel.
The Batarang flew like a silver streak.
The burly vampire tilted his head slightly, dodging the attack with ease.
"That's all?"
He sneered. "Remember my name—Kainster."
In an instant, Kainster vanished like a shadow and lunged.
Bruce's eyes narrowed. This was bad.
A silver blade shot out from his gauntlet.
This vampire wasn't like the others. He had special abilities—his speed was inhuman.
Squelch—!
The sound of a blade piercing flesh.
(Support me and read ahead on Patreøn: patreøn.com/craxxtranslation. Thanks for your support! Don't forget to send Power Stones—300 Power Stones = +1 bonus chapter!)