Chapter 8: The Clown's Resurrection!?

At four o'clock in the morning, a drizzling rain fell from the sky. The cold night wind blew through the dim and quiet alley beside the Black Mask Club. The half-broken lampshade on the worn-out street lamp at the alley entrance emitted an annoying creaking sound as usual.

It was early autumn now, and the cold air and raindrops in the early morning made the two guards in raincoats outside the club's back door drowsy.

Although their boss had instructed them to keep watch, they didn't really know what they were supposed to be watching for.

"Do you think the brothers from the harbor can succeed?" "They definitely can. The boss has bribed several security personnel. The situation inside is very clear. That bastard second-generation rich kid will be brought here soon and will obediently surrender all his assets under interrogation. Huh? Do you hear any sound?" "Uh, no, maybe you misheard?" "Seems like I did."

They didn't mishear anything. A remote-controlled RC car, commonly seen on the market, was making its way through the central air conditioning duct and into the core area of the second floor of the Black Mask Club.

This RC car, equipped with a camera and priced at only four hundred dollars, easily penetrated the Black Mask's proud bulletproof glass defense line and entered the duct above his office.

Through the grating of the air conditioning vent, the figure of the person making a phone call at the Black Mask was caught by someone's eyes.

The next moment... "Boom!" A large bundle of TNT explosives detonated!

The shattered fragments of the air conditioning duct turned the explosion point into a massive fragmentation grenade. The terrifying shards, akin to the scythe of death, emitted a piercing scream as they tore through the space.

All of this happened so suddenly that Roman Sieninis had no preparation whatsoever.

Faced with fragments as dense as a torrential rain and the terrifying wave of flames rushing toward him, all he could instinctively do behind his desk was lean back, attempting to use the large and solid desk to withstand the catastrophe.

Too late!

Even though he possessed hand-to-hand combat abilities rivaling Batman's and was an extremely skilled marksman, he couldn't escape unscathed from this explosion.1

A zinc-plated iron sheet, the size of a washbasin, sprayed out by the explosion, sliced through his right arm like cutting through a cloth doll. Moreover, more than thirty fragments of varying sizes that hit him turned him into a sieve on the spot.

It was thanks to his exceptional physique and the Kevlar bulletproof vest he wore that he didn't die on the spot.

His subordinates weren't as fortunate.

Out of the four armed gang members, three were killed instantly by the explosion, and one fell into a pool of blood, seemingly lifeless.

A piece of the black mask on Roman's face had shattered due to the explosion, revealing his handsome face behind the mask. Perhaps due to a temporal anomaly, he hadn't suffered the facial burns that Batman inflicted on him during his arrest. Now, he was still a handsome middle-aged man.

However, someone accomplished what Batman hadn't. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" A continuous sound of explosions echoed on the second floor of the Black Mask Club.

Not just one or two, but a series of TNT explosions in succession.

The enormous explosions caused parts of the ceiling of the nightclub downstairs to collapse. Light fixtures came crashing down, and flames and electric sparks filled the entire dance hall.

Fortunately, it was already the latter half of the night, and there weren't many people in the nightclub. The guests who were originally seeking pleasure and enjoyment screamed and fled the terrifying place in an instant.

Sean knew that the Black Mask Club was finished.

The other side clearly intended to uproot him.

In a stroke of bad luck, he heard the noise and gunfire from the street corner. Struggling to crawl out from under the table, he unfastened his belt, used his mouth and left hand to tightly tie off his severed arm to stop the bleeding, while standing upright and leaning against the window.

In the distance, a large group of members from the Clown Gang rushed over, engaging in fierce gunfire with his men stationed at the street corner.

"Clown Gang..." His resentful voice seemed to come from the depths of hell.

At least a hundred opponents.

With his current manpower, he couldn't possibly withstand it.

Without a hint of nostalgia, after quickly tending to his wounds, Sean lunged toward his safe, swiftly opened it, took out the most important things, and immediately left.

Stumbling, he rushed out of the chaotic office, having to forcefully push through the warped door frame due to the explosion.

"Is anyone there? Is anyone alive?"

There was almost no response, occasionally accompanied by a few painful groans.

The opposition had been merciless.

The explosion had affected the entire second and third floors. This three-story building was nearly emptied on the upper two floors.

Without hesitation, Roman abandoned his severely injured subordinates. The garage door of the club's back entrance had collapsed, so he had to dash out through a side door on the back street.

Very luckily, he saw that two guards at the gate were still alive.

"Follow me! Protect me!"

"Ah! Yes, boss!" The two gunmen were initially bewildered but instinctively obeyed the command.

The pressure from the Black Mask was immense; until it was absolutely certain that he couldn't go on, no one dared to defy him.

At this moment, the rain in the sky grew heavier, and things twenty meters away were almost indiscernible.

One gunman led the way, while the other supported Sean.

Suddenly, there was a loud thunderclap in the sky.

In the dazzling lightning, the three of them suddenly saw a horrifying clown face grinning at them from a stormwater drain that was continuously filling with rainwater.

At that instant, time seemed to stop.

The hearts of the three also ceased to beat.

Those white eyes with yellow pupils, paired with the massive red-painted smile at the corner of the mouth, were as eerie as could be.

"Clown—" The three of them screamed in unison while subconsciously pointing their guns towards the stormwater drain.

Too slow!

A black demonic claw, or whatever it was, shot out like lightning from the stormwater drain, precisely grabbing Roman's left ankle. Before anyone could react, Roman's entire body was already pulled down into the drain, dragged forcefully.

"Ah! Save me—"

"Boss—"

The boss blocking the muzzle meant the gunmen couldn't shoot. They tried to grab Sean, but their hands closed on thin air.

Roman instinctively swung his remaining left arm, only managing to scrape the ground. With extreme effort, his five fingers carved five clear blood streaks in the muddy ground.

Due to the excessive force, Mr. Black Mask didn't even notice that his nails had been turned over.

The strength of the clown inside was overwhelming. In just a couple of movements, he dragged the six-foot-two Black Mask entirely into the drain. Gotham City's stormwater drain entrance was quite large to prevent blockages – it was a full meter wide and thirty centimeters high.

Who could have known that this would turn into the greatest horror?

The pitch-black opening, continuously flooded by surging rainwater, accompanied by the ceaseless echoing screams inside, was this really a stormwater drain entrance? It was more like an abyssal maw that chose its prey.

"Save me! Save me!"

No matter how desperately Roman screamed for help, the two gunmen were frozen in place as if nailed there. Trembling, they looked at each other, neither daring to utter the words "let's go down together to save him." The dilated pupils told of the fear in their hearts.

"How about we run!" "Agreed!" Terrified, the gunmen fled without looking back.

The nightmare behind the black masks was far from over. Honestly, he was confused at the beginning too. Caught by something unknown, he struggled instinctively. But as soon as he fell into the sewer, a massive net awaited him. Thick nylon ropes formed a mesh that rendered his formidable skills useless.

Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness inside, a searing pain shot from his left neck. It was a sharp iron claw. The Joker's gang often fashioned scraps of iron into claw-like shapes, sharp and covered in menacing rust.

Roman instinctively fought back, throwing an elbow that hit nothing. Because what came at him was only the iron claw, no person attached. Another trap. Mr. Black Mask finally unleashed his ultimate secret weapon—mind control! Initially, he thought only the Joker would have abandoned this move, as it was ineffective against the insane. Unexpectedly, his opponent fell for it.

"You're not the Joker! Who are you?" Even more unexpected for Roman was that his all-encompassing mind control was significantly weakened by the damage to Mr. Black Mask's mask. He couldn't have anticipated the resilience of his adversary's mind.

In response, he was met with a sword of physics—a crowbar! Another thunderbolt struck the sky. His questioning shout was drowned by the roar of thunder, and even if it had reached them, his two fleeing subordinates wouldn't have heard.

Illuminated by the faint light filtering into the sewer, the last image reflected in Sean's eyes was the graceful arc traced by the crowbar in midair.

The "holy sword" descended, shattering half of Roman's head. In this world, the Black Mask exists no more!

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