C 85

"Regret?" Anton laughed in anger.

Since becoming Batman, he could hardly recall anyone daring to threaten him like this. Hawkeye might be a skilled fighter with solid combat capabilities, but compared to Coulson, his ability to handle delicate matters fell short. 

It wasn't that Hawkeye lacked intelligence, but his low emotional intelligence was undeniable.

"Humph!"

When Anton saw him take off his bow and arrow, he snorted coldly, stepping forward with lightning speed.

Hawkeye's expression remained unchanged as he used his bow like a machete, attempting to meet Anton's attack head-on. 

But Anton's battle armor absorbed the impact of the blow effortlessly. His right fist, carrying immense force, whirred through the air and connected with Hawkeye's left rib.

Hawkeye staggered backward, pain shooting through his body. His face showed a flicker of shock as he tried to steady himself, but he stepped too far, landing on the edge of the rooftop.

Crunch—

The fence behind him gave way, tumbling into the deserted alley below.

A few seconds later, the sound of the crash echoed up from the street, cutting through the tense silence on the rooftop.

Anton and Hawkeye locked eyes, the tension between them palpable, as though sparks crackled in the air.

Hawkeye's gaze hardened, filled with newfound respect. He realized he had underestimated Batman. 

This so-called superhero had proven his reputation, and for someone like Hawkeye, who excelled at long-range combat, Anton's armored advantage was undeniably unfair.

"Now," Anton said, his tone sharp, "do I send you flying, or are you leaving of your own accord?"

Hawkeye's face shifted with conflicting emotions. The humiliation of being bested burned within him, and Anton's taunt only fueled his anger.

"You're not qualified to make me leave," Hawkeye snapped, leaping backward onto the roof of a nearby building. Midair, he drew an arrow from his quiver and aimed it at Anton with precision.

Anton, unfazed, raised his hand and threw a batarang.

The sharp projectile sliced through the air, spinning like a thunderbolt, and collided with Hawkeye's arrow just as it left the bowstring.

Boom!

The arrow shattered.

An instant later, both the batarang and the arrow detonated midair, sending shockwaves and fire bursting outward. The unexpected explosion caught Hawkeye off guard, propelling him backward.

Hawkeye fell hard onto the rooftop, the impact rattling his body. His attempt at retaliation had ended in utter failure.

The deafening explosion reverberated through the outskirts of Manhattan, loud enough to alert nearby police near Oscorp Tower.

Amid the fading echoes, a figure slumped to the ground on the adjacent rooftop. The sheer drop of over a hundred meters was a terrifying sight.

"This...!" Spider-Man gasped, his breath catching in his throat as he observed the scene. "That... that was intense!"

He was frightened and suddenly turned his head to look at Batman.

"He's a member of an official agency. Won't you cause trouble if you kill him?" Spider-Man sounded panicked, feeling like something big had just happened.

"Who said I killed him?" Anton's tone was calm, almost indifferent. 

"The explosive power of the batarang could hurt an ordinary person, sure, but for someone like him? It's not a big deal. Besides," he added with a faint smirk, "he fell on his own. What's that got to do with me?"

"Ah... this..." Spider-Man was left speechless.

"Relax, he's got a tough life. He's not going to die so easily," Anton assured him, waving dismissively. "This was just a lesson. I have no intention of dragging this out with him. If he still wants to bother me, there'll be plenty of opportunities for that later."

With that, he turned toward Spider-Man. "I'm leaving now. If you ever need me, you know where to find me."

As his words trailed off, Anton casually knocked Connors unconscious, then picked up both the unconscious Green Goblin and Connors. With a leap, he unfurled his cape, gliding away with Batmobile until his figure disappeared into the city skyline.

Spider-Man watched him leave, then jumped off the rooftop. Using his webbing, he swung between buildings until he spotted a figure hanging awkwardly on a wall. 

Spider-Man sighed in relief, muttering to himself as he disappeared down the street.

Meanwhile, the figure hanging on the wall—disheveled, bruised, and fuming—was none other than Hawkeye. His face burned with frustration as he clung to the wall, seething.

"Batman!" Hawkeye gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing with anger.

Only when the city around him settled into silence did he take his gaze off Spider-Man and look toward the distant horizon.

Batman was gone.

But that didn't stop Hawkeye's irritation.

…

Elsewhere, Anton stopped at a specific location and glanced at the sewer beneath his feet. He lifted the manhole cover and, after a quick call to Eddie for directions, navigated through the maze-like underground passages.

About ten minutes later, he arrived at the turtles' dojo.

"Who's there?"

Inside, the turtles had just returned home.

They were gathered around Splinter, the large rat who served as their sensei, complaining about their fruitless trip.

"We went through all that trouble, and Captain George Stacey still treated us like criminals!" Michelangelo whined. "And when we finally met Batman, he helped us, sure, but—"

Michelangelo kept talking, oblivious to Splinter's growing headache. The wise old rat rubbed his temples, trying to focus as Anton entered.

Suddenly, the four turtles and Splinter all reacted simultaneously, their expressions shifting as they turned to look toward the entrance of the dojo.

Standing in the doorway was a dark figure, cloaked in shadows, his cape billowing slightly. In each hand, he carried an unconscious body.

"Batman!"

The turtles froze in surprise.

Splinter, however, though taken aback, quickly masked his emotions with a calm expression. Yet, deep down, he was genuinely astonished.

Batman had arrived at their dojo silently, completely unnoticed by them. For Splinter, this was a startling revelation—it meant that if the figure before them had been an enemy, they might already be ambushed.

"I mean no harm," Batman said, his voice steady and calm. He stepped into the dojo and gently set down the unconscious Green Goblin and Connors.

"I've come to talk to you about the Foot Clan—and about yourselves..."

He paused, then added with a faint edge of humor, "Also, I need to deal with a small issue right now."

"Please, sit," Splinter said, motioning for Batman to join them.

As the discussion deepened, the turtles and Splinter began to grasp Batman's intentions. His arrival was primarily due to two matters: the Foot Clan and the unconscious Green Goblin and Connors.

The Foot Clan needed little explanation—it was a persistent thorn in the turtles' side and one of Batman's current targets. Through their exchange, Anton clarified the connection between Shredder and Sachs, which further emphasized the importance of addressing this threat.

The second issue, however, was more complex: what to do with the Green Goblin and Connors. While Anton had yet to finalize their fate with S.H.I.E.L.D., he had an interim solution in mind.

The city's sewer system, with its isolated and labyrinthine structure, made for an ideal temporary prison. Batman proposed that the four turtles act as jailers, ensuring the two prisoners remained secured.

Splinter, who primarily stayed at the base, could oversee things as well.

There was another matter of significant importance that Batman brought up—the mutagen in the blood of the turtles and Splinter.

This mutagen, which had transformed the turtles and Splinter into intelligent, humanoid creatures, bore a striking resemblance to the fields of study pursued by Connors in his "body regeneration" research and by Norman Osborn in his "human enhancement" experiments that led to the Green Goblin transformation.

Despite being over a decade old, the mutagen technology was, in many ways, far more advanced and successful than the genetic engineering projects at Oscorp.

As their conversation concluded, a faint twitch in Connors' eyelids drew Anton's attention.

Turning his head, he observed the scientist lying on the ground. A faint smile appeared on Batman's lips.

"So," Anton said with a dry chuckle, his tone laced with amusement. "Since you've heard everything, are you planning to keep pretending you're unconscious, Connors?"

…

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