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Chapter 361: Pummeling Batman Like a Dog
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 15:50:59 +0000 UTC
“Stay back! Or I’ll kill him! I swear I will!”
The bald thug’s desperate roar split the night air.
Alex, who had been casually observing Batman’s methods while organizing his own thoughts, suddenly found himself seized from behind. The cold edge of a dagger pressed tightly against his neck.
Alex: “…”
Really?
A hostage? Him?
For a brief moment, Alex almost laughed aloud at the absurdity. This wasn’t fear—far from it. It was… amusing. Interesting, even. Being threatened like this gave him the same sensation as an actor trying out a new role. He tilted his head slightly, as if curious how far this fool thought he could go.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here. He won’t hurt you.” Batman’s gravelly voice cut in at once, controlled yet reassuring. His posture shifted, hands subtly lowering as he tried to diffuse the standoff.
Alex chuckled, the sound low and careless. “Of course he won’t hurt me.”
Slowly, deliberately, he raised one hand. With unhurried calm, he grasped the very blade pressed to his neck.
Batman’s eyes widened under the cowl. His pupils constricted. 空手入白刃? Catching a blade bare-handed? Who was this man? His movements weren’t the flailing of someone cornered—they carried certainty, precision. Not even a flinch as the steel met flesh.
But the next instant, Batman realized something even stranger.
The dagger didn’t pierce. The edge scraped against Alex’s skin without leaving the faintest line of blood. His palm remained flawless, unmarked, as though the weapon had been nothing more than plastic.
Clang!
With the faintest squeeze, Alex’s fingers tightened. The dagger shrieked under the pressure—and shattered into fragments. Steel splinters rained to the ground like broken glass.
“What…!” Batman stiffened. His mind, trained to analyze, immediately sought explanations. A prop? A cheap blade? But even then, breaking it barehanded was impossible. His instincts screamed—this wasn’t sleight of hand. This was raw, inhuman power.
“You… y-you…” The bald thug’s voice cracked. He stared at the broken hilt still clutched in his hand, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The disbelief in his eyes was almost comical.
Monster. That was the only word forming in his mind. He had tried to mug… this?
“You…” The thug didn’t get to finish.
Alex’s free hand shot forward, wrapping around the man’s throat with terrifying ease. His grip was iron, his arm steady as stone, and with one casual motion he lifted the thug completely off the ground.
The man dangled helplessly, kicking, choking, every ounce of weight supported by Alex’s single hand.
“This guy… he’s not ordinary.” Batman’s thoughts sharpened, alarm flashing like lightning. Crushing steel barehanded was one thing. But lifting a grown man with one arm, without even straining? That meant strength far beyond human limits—over two hundred pounds of raw force, minimum. This wasn’t possible.
Crack!
The sound was sharp and final. Bones snapped beneath Alex’s fingers like brittle twigs.
The bald man’s struggling ceased instantly. His body went limp, life extinguished in the span of a breath.
“Stop!” Batman’s growl came at last, a command laced with urgency—but it was too late.
Thud.
With a flick of his arm, Alex tossed the corpse aside. The body hit the pavement with a dull crash, as carelessly discarded as trash.
“You killed him. You actually killed him.” Batman’s voice was low, strained with disbelief. His jaw tightened behind the cowl, fury sparking in his eyes. For him, the line between justice and vigilantism was clear: no killing. It was absolute, non-negotiable. And seeing it crossed so easily in front of him burned like acid.
“That much should be obvious.” Alex shrugged lightly, his face calm, almost bored. To him, it was no different than swatting a fly.
And without pause, he turned, stepping toward the others. The men still writhing on the ground.
Because in Alex’s world, principles were simple: If others don’t offend me, I won’t offend them. If they do… I repay it a hundredfold.
“St-stop! Don’t come closer!” Henry stammered, his face ashen. His companions scrambled backward, eyes wide in sheer horror.
“Please, let us go! Don’t kill us!” Their pleas tumbled over one another, trembling voices breaking.
Moments ago, Batman had been their greatest nightmare. But now? Batman was salvation, a lifeline. Because Gotham’s criminals all knew the Bat didn’t kill. But this stranger? He killed without blinking.
Batman stepped sharply into Alex’s path, cape flaring as he blocked the way. His voice was hard, commanding: “That’s enough. Whatever you’re planning, I won’t allow it.”
“Help us, Batman! Save us!” Henry’s voice cracked in desperation, echoing the irony of the moment. Their enemy turned savior.
Alex stopped, tilting his head, eyes narrowing in faint amusement. “You?” His tone was laced with contempt. “Don’t overestimate yourself, Batman.”
Whoosh!
The instant the words left his lips, Alex blurred. His body moved with explosive speed, vanishing and reappearing in a rush of displaced air.
Batman’s eyes widened. “What—?!”
So fast. Faster than anything he’d ever tracked. His vision caught only a streak of shadow before the impact hit.
A crushing force slammed into him.
Thud!
Batman’s armored body smashed into the wall, stone cracking under the impact. He crumpled to the ground with the limp heaviness of a broken doll.
“Ugh—!” The breath tore from his lungs in a violent cough, blood flecking his lips. Pain lanced through his ribs, a deep ache radiating from his chest. His organs screamed in protest. If not for the reinforced Kevlar and plating of his suit, that strike might have ruptured his heart.
What is he…? The thought cut through the haze of agony. No human could achieve this. Not even close.
Across the alley, Henry and the other thugs gaped, speechless.
“F… fake, right?” one whispered.
“That can’t be real…”
Their eyes locked on Batman—Batman—lying sprawled on the ground like a beaten stray dog. This was the man who had terrorized Gotham’s underworld, who had dismantled syndicates and reduced crime with his sheer presence. Their city’s boogeyman.
And this stranger had flattened him with a single blow.
Unthinkable. Impossible. Yet undeniable.
Alex barely spared them a glance. He advanced calmly, his gaze fixed on Henry.
The man scrambled backward, shaking his head violently.
“No!” Batman’s voice, ragged but desperate, clawed out from the ground. He stretched out a bloodied hand, trying to stop what was coming. “Don’t—!”
Crack!
Alex’s boot came down. The sound of breaking bones rang through the alley like a grim verdict.
