American comics: You're asked to fish, but you catch a Superman template?

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Luther sat down and stared straight at him.

5.7 "Superman of Metropolis, the embodiment of justice, a god worshipped by countless people. All your courage, kindness and sense of justice are built on power. It makes you fearless and omnipotent, making you an unapproachable god. But once you lose your power,...."

Bang

Gunshots rang out, and Clark trembled with excitement.

The bullet grazed his scalp and hit the back wall. Looking at his pale, bloodless face, Luther laughed loudly, a triumphant laugh.

“Look, you’re afraid, you’re trembling in the face of death. You’re not a superhero at all, you’re just a silly kid living in a dream.”

"You're not much better than Batman. He can create fear and use it to protect Gotham City." "And you don't even know what fear is." "But that's okay, fear is right in front of you."

Chapter 1450 Batman's Interrogation Techniques

Bruce is not a superhero in the traditional sense.

He had a very deep understanding of society, politics, war, and human nature, so he was not surprised to hear from Andrew about the secret deal between the League of Assassins and the highest leadership of the United States.

The world is not just black and white; gray is often the dominant color.

Andrew couldn't stand the torture and answered whatever Bruce asked. When the topic of power armor came up, his eyes flickered slightly before he finally revealed its name.

"Dern Albert?"

Bruce frowned nervously; he sensed that the situation had escalated beyond what was initially thought. "Who is Denn Albert?"

There is only one Denne Abbott in the White House.

He didn't say what the person's position was, but Bruce already knew: CIA Deputy Director Denn Albert, the absolute pinnacle of the US power structure.

"He gave you the underlying technology?"

"Yes".

Why would he hand over such important technology to the Assassin's Guild?

"I'm just a mediator."

How did he obtain this technology?

"It seems to be Tesla, supposedly they provided it, but I don't know the specifics."

Bruce's expression changed; he realized things were far more complex than he'd imagined. The CIA had given the assassin organization such crucial technology as powered armor—what kind of cooperation did they want? Or war?

What role does Tesla play?

Andrew cried out hoarsely, "I've said everything I need to say, please let me go. I'm just a liaison, I didn't do anything wrong!"

Bruce slapped him to shut up, then continued.

"One last question, how did this armor come to market?" "Where is the secret interface?"

Half an hour later, Bruce took off his bathrobe, changed into a suit, and appeared at a high-society party. At that moment, Alfred walked towards him with a wine glass in hand.

"As a retired special agent, I sincerely advise you to stop looking for me."

Bruce silently shook his head, declining the butler's offer.

Alfred said helplessly, "The CIA deputy director is no ordinary person; the consequences of his torture are unpredictable."

"I will find the evidence first."

Bruce raised his glass and walked toward the two clad beauties. Tonight, he wasn't Batman, just the Wayne family playboy.

Somewhere in a remote little port on the west coast.

It was still early, and the port was still operating. A cruise ship loaded with containers was anchored in the deep water. A dozen fully armed soldiers appeared on the deck. They were dressed in marine corps uniforms, carrying military weapons. Their shoulder boards, positions, ranks, and numbers were just like those of real soldiers, but upon closer inspection, it became clear that they were speaking Arabic.

The crane transported the container to the dock. When the person receiving the goods opened the container and saw the power armor inside, he rubbed his hands together excitedly. His shouts immediately enlivened the port.

The crew loaded the power armor onto the truck, and the person in charge went to meet the cruise ship owner.

The sea breeze howled, and the bustling crowd did not notice the extra person on the roof. He was like a ghost, blending into the darkness, or rather, he was the darkness itself.

Bruce took out a recorder to eavesdrop on the conversation on the cruise ship. This was not the first time the two sides had bargained. Similar operations had been carried out dozens of times. In addition to the power armor, the cruise ship also had a special metal called kryptonite.

Kryptonite?

Bruce raised an eyebrow. He was completely unfamiliar with the term, but it was clear from their conversation that this metal was far more important than power armor.

Does it have a special purpose?

Bruce had a lot of questions on his mind. After a few minutes of thinking, he decided to change his original plan and target kryptonite. He needed to know the uses of this metal.

After the conversation ended, the person in charge left the deck carrying a silver box. Meanwhile, the moving work was nearing completion. A total of 500 sets of simulated power armor, 300 sets of light armor, 200 sets of heavy armor, and auxiliary weapon devices had been assembled.

It can't compare to Tesla's products in terms of performance, safety, and sustainability, but it's good enough for gangs that frequently operate in the underworld.

They buy power armor not to show off, but to protect themselves from the police and the FBI.

As Bruce said, if you open Pandora's box, the consequences will be endless.

The police used power armor to take down one criminal after another. In return, the criminals could not purchase the armor through normal channels and had to resort to back channels.

When there is demand, there is market.

At this point, the pirates came to the rescue.

Seven large trucks, fully loaded with powered armor, started up one after another and drove away from the port in batches, each followed by a black sedan. The driver of each truck was the last to leave.

Shortly after they left, a cool black SUV sped out of the woods and drove off in the direction the truck had gone.

The sports car was extremely fast, and he caught up with his target in just a few minutes.

Bruce rudely met the two rockets head-on. The rear of his car was hit by the rockets, sending it soaring into the sky, flipping 270 degrees, and then crashing heavily onto the road.

A large truck encountered an even greater misfortune: its cargo compartment overturned, skidded on the ground, slid off the road, and crashed into the ditch next to it.

Bruce walked to the car lying on the side of the road, ignoring the two entourage members, and pointed directly at the person in charge. He was carrying a silver briefcase, and his left hand was handcuffed to the briefcase. Although he was in a daze, he still gripped the handle tightly.

Bruce pulled him out, stuffed him into the trunk of a sports car, started the engine, and disappeared into the night.

A few minutes later, on a sparsely populated mountain ridge.

The recovered chief looked at the tall figure standing in front of him with displeasure.

"Batman 877?"

"You bastard, do you know what you're doing?"

Bruce ignored him, opened the metal box, and five uneven pieces of ore appeared in front of him. The ore occasionally flashed with green light and looked very strange.

What is kryptonite used for?

The chief grinned, about to mock him, when suddenly a fist appeared in front of him, and with a "bang," the chief was knocked to the ground.

Bang

A distinct tearing sound came from the bridge of his nose, and blood gushed out, accompanied by bittersweet, painful tears.

Bruce held him down, brutally beat him, and then threw him off the cliff.

The chief screamed in terror.

"I will talk, I will talk, don't kill me, I will tell you everything."

Bruce held onto his shirt, trying to keep it from falling off.

"who are you?"

Larry Edwards

"What kind of personality is this?"

Bruce released his right hand, his shirt slipped down, and he panicked.

"I'm an arms dealer, I sell replicas of powered armor."

Bruce said coldly, "What I need is genuine personality, not some middleman."

Edward's expression suddenly changed; his eyes darted around. When he saw Bruce about to reveal everything, he could only manage a wry smile, and then...

"I work for the CIA."

Chapter 1451 The Crisis Facing Tesla

Death is the greatest fear, and few can remain true to themselves in the face of such power.

Under Bruce's threats, Edward, an outsider to the CIA, had no choice but to reveal everything that had happened.

It turns out that the factory producing the power armor replicas does not belong to the League of Assassins, but is a joint venture of several organizations, including the CIA, and apparently the military as well.

The power armor produced by this factory was smuggled to the Middle East and the United States, a small amount was smuggled to Europe, and some was smuggled to the United States.

This is why bandits and terrorists possess powered armor.

The profits generated from replica power armor are enormous, far exceeding those from drugs. Power armor with a cost of only $2 can be resold for ten times the profit.

Besides making money, the CIA and the Department of Defense also want to destroy the Middle East with powered armor. Simply put, the more chaotic the better, because only chaos can control it.

Upon hearing these words, Bruce remained silent for a long time, unsure of what words to use to describe his feelings at that moment.

Talia warned him: "Don't investigate any further. She's right, you really can't investigate any further. The CIA and the military have a joint strategic plan, and the White House is also involved. If it traces back to him, it's tantamount to going to war with the entire country."