Marvel’s Shadowed Knight

"Ahhh~~~"

The man slowly regained consciousness, only to find the world completely upside down.

He could feel the blood rushing to his head—his circulation disrupted from being suspended in midair.

"Where is everyone? Where did they go?"

He tried to raise his voice, but hanging upside down made it impossible to shout.

As soon as he spoke, Batman emerged from the darkness.

"Judging by your current state, in about half an hour—"

Before Batman could finish, the man cut him off, pleading desperately.

"I'll talk! Ask me anything! Just let me go!"

Clearly, he wasn't the type to endure hardship.

In fact, after seeing how he had acted earlier, Batman should have expected this—this guy was nothing but a coward.

There was no need for torture.

"Tell me, where are your weapons being delivered?"

Batman yanked him upright, allowing his blood to circulate normally again.

"Fisk Tower."

The man didn't hesitate for a second before revealing the destination.

Hearing this, Batman was genuinely surprised.

He had only taken control of Fisk Tower a few days ago, but he had already mapped out every inch of it.

If Fisk Tower was being used as a Hydra transaction hub, there was no way he wouldn't have noticed.

Without a word, Batman slammed the man against the wall.

"Cough! Cough!"

The violent impact left him struggling to breathe.

Seeing Batman raise his fist again, he immediately shouted, "Only Hydra knows the entry point!"

Batman's fist, already poised to strike, suddenly shifted direction, slamming into the wall beside the man's head.

The shattered concrete sprayed in all directions, leaving the Hydra operative visibly shaken.

Wasting no time, he stammered, "Only Hydra knows how to get inside!"

Batman slowly withdrew his fist, saying nothing—just staring at him in silence.

Faced with that unyielding gaze, the man spilled everything he knew, like a bamboo tube pouring out beans.

But to Batman, it all sounded like a joke.

If the weapons were really headed for Fisk Tower, then the deal wouldn't be happening in Hell's Kitchen.

After all, Hell's Kitchen was still part of Manhattan.

Setting up a deal in Manhattan but outside Hell's Kitchen made no sense.

Clearly, this guy wasn't being entirely truthful.

"I told you everything—does that mean you'll spare me?"

He forced a flattering smile, acting as if he had just revealed the biggest secret.

With a flick of his gauntlet, Batman's wrist blades sliced through the rope suspending the man.

But before he could even celebrate his newfound freedom, Batman slammed him back against the wall.

Reaching to his belt, Batman retrieved a pair of brass knuckles—etched with the bat symbol.

He locked eyes with the man, his expression unreadable.

The Hydra operative's ingratiating smile twisted into sheer terror as he watched the knuckles in Batman's grip turn a deep, glowing red.

Gone was his false bravado—all that remained was raw fear.

This time, Batman didn't give him a chance to speak.

He struck first.

The burning-red knuckles crashed into the man's side with brutal force.

"Ah!!!"

A wave of searing pain surged through his entire body.

"No tricks!"

Batman's voice was now raspier, colder—far more terrifying than before.

"I'm telling the truth! It's all true!"

Even through the unbearable agony, the man clung desperately to his previous statement.

His neck veins bulged from the sheer intensity of the pain, yet he still refused to change his story.

Suddenly, Batman withdrew his knuckle dusters and took two steps back. He stared down at the man, who lay limp on the ground, utterly drained by the pain. His gaze was now devoid of any emotion.

"Cough! Cough! Cough!"

The man choked and gasped, his mind overwhelmed by the agony coursing through his body.

"I trust you're aware of Kingpin's underground smuggling routes," Batman said.

The moment those words left his mouth, the man—who had been on the verge of coughing up a lung—suddenly froze.

His entire body trembled.

Not from pain.

From fear. Or something even worse.

"We paid Kingpin a visit," the man finally said, lifting his head to meet Batman's eyes. "He did confirm your existence. A superhero, but possibly just a man."

A twisted smile crept onto his lips.

"Did you really think we knew nothing about what you've been doing?"

He suddenly let out a laugh.

"The smartest ones always fall victim to their own arrogance."

Out of nowhere, a chorus of chaotic noises erupted from all around them.

Clearly, the place was now completely surrounded.

Batman frowned. "I scanned your body—there were no trackers."

This situation was far from ideal.

Yet, he remained calm, speaking in the same steady tone.

The man smirked and stuck out his tongue, revealing a tiny device embedded at its base.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. tech. X-rays can't detect it."

His demeanor had completely shifted. Gone was the pathetic, groveling coward.

Now, he bore an eerie grin as he spoke to Batman.

Lowering his gaze to his own injured side, the man suddenly chuckled.

"I knew it. Batman is real."

The moment those words were uttered, Batman instantly pieced together who this man was.

This was the same individual the newspapers had linked to a theory that Wick John Kane might be Batman.

"Now I have irrefutable evidence."

His voice carried an unsettling confidence. "No one will ever call me a journalist who fabricates stories again."

That smile—chilling, unhinged—made it clear.

He wasn't just a journalist.

He was a lunatic.

A madman obsessed with finding Batman.

"You're that reporter?"

"Oh, right. I used to be Clark Kent."

His grin widened as he continued, "But now, you can call me Joker."

The moment he spoke his name, Red Death—lurking within Batman's mind—nearly lost control.

Thomas Wayne had never heard the first name before.

But as he stared at this so-called "Joker," a hazy memory surfaced.

A woman, forever etching a smile onto her lips, in mourning of her lost son.

"So, there really is someone in this world with that name," a voice muttered.

But it wasn't Red Death speaking.

This voice was clearer, lighter—belonging to none other than the Barry Allen within him.

"This is the NYPD! Drop your weapons and exit the building slowly!"

Only now, after surrounding the entire area, did the police activate their sirens.

The flashing red and blue lights pulsed through the silent night.

(End of Chapter)

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