signingbooks Chapter 7 Money Power
Chapter 7 Money Power
Chapter 7 Money Power
Under the illumination of four huge searchlights that the mercenary squad had prepared in advance, two box trucks drove into the abandoned parking lot.
The man with the slipknot and tattoos closed the car door, walked over with a stern and cold expression.
They, along with Death Shooter, Cheshire Cat, and Javelin Captain, were all mercenaries hired by Chen Tao.
Of course, in their view, the person employing them was a criminal ventriloquist, not the famous Batman.
Slipknot was a strong Mexican man skilled in using lassos. He was the one who had previously created the trap that bound the killer crocodile like a dumpling. Now, seeing the killer crocodile tied to the ground, a slight smirk appeared on his lips.
The tattooed man, true to his nickname, looked like a watercolor painting covered in bird droppings. More than an assassin, he resembled a sailor struggling to make a living on the beach. He arrived with a merciless taunt: "Ha! Our target is an idiot!"
With a bang, a plume of white smoke shot out from the top of Killer Crocodile's head.
With everyone working together, they dragged the killer crocodile to the back of the two vans. During this time, the tattooed man made a couple more sarcastic remarks, and then almost got bitten on the arm by the killer crocodile, causing another chaotic scene.
humiliation.
anger.
The killer crocodile was enraged to the extreme.
The raging anger was stronger than the gamma rays produced by the Orion supernova explosion; the insult that trampled on human dignity could not be washed away even if all the liquid water of Europa were poured out.
Even exploring the mysteries of the universe, reversing the distance of space and time, turning the sun and moon upside down, and causing the oceans to surge, cannot diminish this rage in the slightest!
He couldn't help but roar loudly:
Unforgivable!
The sound was comparable to the lament of Prometheus stealing fire!
Unforgivable!
The sound was like the roar of Jesus on the cross!
Unforgivable...
With a loud bang, the ventriloquist didn't waste any words and opened the back door of the van, then a ton of banknotes was thrown directly at Killer Croc's face.
There's no trickery involved; it's all in US dollars.
Because the movement was too rough, the lush green money mountain collapsed directly from inside the carriage to the ground, like a box of overturned toilet paper.
The killer crocodile's voice abruptly stopped, like a duck being choked.
"This money is all advance salary; as long as you agree, it's all yours."
"No...this is inexcusable..."
With a clang, the ventriloquist opened another van, and another ton of banknotes poured down, the cold rain of money slapping haphazardly on the killer crocodile's face.
Killer Crocodile was so angry that his blue face turned red.
Stop insulting me with these banknotes!
He wanted to righteously rebuke the other party, saying that Killer Crocodile was a cold-blooded beast, a cruel freak, but not such a casual person!
So what if you have money? No way... Just because you give me money, does that mean I'll grovel and worship you?
Snapped.
A banknote was pasted over his eyes, obscuring his vision.
Unforgivable...forgivable...
Original……
I forgive you!!!
The killer crocodile swayed, the psychological and physical dizziness from being hit on the head by a huge amount of money causing his brain's language module to fail instantly. Holding the banknotes, he said very seriously:
"father!"
Deadshot: "?"
Then Killer Croc suddenly remembered that he was black, and black people usually don't have fathers.
"Ahem, what I mean is..."
"I've wandered for most of my life, and my only regret is not having met a wise boss. If you don't mind, I'm willing to..."
"My God, there are at least tens of millions of dollars here!" The javelin captain jumped straight into the pile of banknotes. "I'm going to die!"
"Get out of my way!" Killer Croc roared in fury. "This is my money!"
"Even though she's yours, I'm the one holding her in my arms and indulging in unrestrained pleasure right now!"
Enraged, Killer Crocodile, bound like a dumpling, somehow managed to spring up using the strength of his waist and abdomen, and then rolled into the pile of banknotes.
"Mine! Mine!"
"..."
Death Shooter felt as if he had completely lost his ability to speak.
Looking at banknotes under the lamp, the more you look, the more blurry your vision becomes.
Unlike Javelin, he wasn't someone who had never seen money before. Therefore, his estimation of the amount of money wouldn't contain the same level of error as Javelin's.
Tens of millions?
That's at least 2 million!
Damn it! He had no idea that the van driven by the guy with the slipknot and the tattoo was full of cash! And the guy with the tattoo and the slipknot probably didn't know either.
For a fleeting moment, he almost wanted to shoot everyone present and then run away with the $2 million!
Fortunately, reason prevailed in the end, and he realized that if someone could pay 2 million to buy Killer Croc, they could also pay 2 million to buy his head.
He has a daughter; he can run away but he can't hide. Money is good, but he might have the life to take it but not the life to spend it.
And most importantly, there are more than two tons of money here. Even if he manages to steal it, he won't be able to take it out of Gotham.
He forced himself to turn his head, and then met the red eyes of the slipknot and the tattooed man, which startled him so much that he pulled out his gun.
"Hey! Calm down, guys."
While secretly guarding against these two unprofessional idiots doing something irrational, Deathshooter said:
"Ventriloquist, where are you?"
This time it's not called an employer.
What? Ventriloquists are employers? I don't believe you for a second.
If a middle-aged, balding white man could easily pull out $2 million, would there be any need for the Gotham City mob?
For no apparent reason, Deathshot remembered the Batman doll in the Ventriloquist's hand and couldn't help but shudder.
The mere thought of that bat-like figure made his ribs ache.
The last time he came to Gotham, he got into a fight with Batman on the train and broke three ribs afterwards...
I don't want to think about him anymore...
The Death Shooter shook his head.
First, let's rule out Batman; he would never do such a thing.
So... someone with money who can mobilize gangsters like ventriloquists...
Is it the Penguin? Or Two-Face? The Riddler? Could it be the Roman? He's already fled to Hong Kong—maybe we should broaden our search for suspects…
For example, Bruce Wayne?
Forget it, he has no motive, let's just rule him out.
"Ventriloquist, ventriloquist? You fucking bastard—let the real employer talk to me."
"What are you talking about?"
Don't play dumb with me.
The tattooed man and the slipknot man both had strange looks in their eyes.
The Death Shooter stared intently at them, slowly retreating.
Even the dumbest javelin thrower realized that something was off.
He crawled out of the pile of banknotes and stood next to Deathshooter, while Killer Croc lay on the ground grinning like a cat that had just taken catnip.
Deadshot didn't intend to start a fight here. It wasn't that he wasn't confident he could kill everyone present except Killer Croc, but rather that the feeling of being subtly manipulated made him very uncomfortable.
The person behind the scenes seems to have figured out that he has a family and a business and wouldn't dare to act recklessly, so they plan to use him to suppress these unruly mercenaries... And if suppressing them fails, using him to eliminate unstable elements within the team is also an acceptable option...
Wait a minute, Death Shooter suddenly realized that the other party had even anticipated his "not wanting a firefight," meaning the scenario of "Death Shooter failing to suppress the enemy, killing everyone, and causing a loss of combat power under the mastermind's control" was simply impossible. This felt too strange. How could he know so much about him?
As for Killer Croc, if he wanted to run away with the money, the $2 million would probably immediately become a bounty on his head, and then the people present would immediately start killing people and dividing the money.
If he were to accept the job, in order to keep the salary he had just received, he would have no choice but to stand with his Death Shooter. The two of them working together would be able to wipe out the other three people present without fail.
Then, the mastermind behind the scenes sends out the ventriloquist to make empty promises and use threats and inducements. The two guys regain their senses and will probably be able to put away their greed soon. He played the balancing act well, but didn't he ever think about overdoing it?
At that moment, he noticed the Cheshire Cat silently walk to their side, forming a pincer movement with him, facing the two guys, Slipknot and the Tattooed Man.
Oh! There's another trick up your sleeve.
Had the Cheshire Cat been bribed beforehand?
Damn it, why didn't you bribe me?
The Death Shooter gritted his teeth until they were shattered, showing no remorse whatsoever for his habit of demanding exorbitant prices.
The tense atmosphere vanished without a trace, and the Death Shooter lowered his gun, glaring at the Ventriloquist.
"So, doesn't the real boss want to reveal his true colors?"
Then he saw the ventriloquist nod and pull out five headsets from behind his back.
Damn it, the guys behind this even figured this out. I'm so annoyed.
Aha, it's now in a contracted state!
(End of this chapter)