Chapter 2495: Battle for the Cloak (14)

"How dare he... how dare he?!!" King Robin threw down his popcorn and bellowed, "How could that damn bumpkin possibly comprehend the subtlety of the trap I set? He just doesn't understand..."

But no matter how loudly he roared, it couldn't drown out the Red Hood in the screen, who was relentlessly sarcastic, not only deftly avoiding trap after trap that he had arranged but also constantly babbling criticism, his mockery turned up to the max.

The traps set by King Robin were nothing if not comprehensive, with spikes on the ground, flamethrowers above, and crossbow bolts from the walls, and all kinds of explosives that would send one flying sky-high upon stepping on them—laser traps and decoy doors and pathways were all too commonplace.

He wasn't trying to use these traps to kill the fish he was angling for; rather, he enjoyed watching the fish thrash towards the blade, battering themselves bloody, before presenting themselves to Batman for the most persuasive effect.

In theory, these traps shouldn't bother Arkham Knight at his peak, just as Red Hood said, Arkham Knight could even fight all night long with Batman, common traps were no match for him, and that was exactly where King Robin delighted in this plan, as he had long noticed that the symbiont Batman used to heal his injuries was not so simple.

At first, King Robin was merely curious as to where this seemingly endless self-healing power came from, but as he researched, he began to notice a faint connection with something outside. It was by following this thread that King Robin managed to locate Arkham Knight and learned part of his story with Batman through reading his memories.

Thus, King Robin deliberately kept inflicting wounds on Batman, stimulating the symbiont, and used the powers of a fifth-dimensional imp to interfere with the symbiont's thought process, making it send a distress signal to Arkham Knight in a critical moment.

After the distress signal was sent, Arkham Knight naturally became greatly unsettled. A prime Arkham Knight could easily handle these traps, but with an unsettled mind, naturally, his reactions would slow. Should an already panicked Arkham Knight come here, he was bound to suffer greatly.

Unfortunately, it wasn't Arkham Knight who came; it was the Red Hood, who had a great deal of critique about this story.

Ever since hearing the story of the Universe Batman and Arkham Knight, Red Hood had been harboring a burning frustration.

He had to admit that for a while, his unique position among all the Robins was indeed his death, and his conversations with Batman always circled back to that.

But then Shiller arrived in the Prime Universe and after a series of events following Batman taking Red Hood to see a psychologist, Shiller said something to the Hood, "Your uniqueness to Batman will no longer be about your death."

At first, Red Hood couldn't understand, but later he gradually realized that his relationship with Batman indeed began to shift subtly; they started discussing the process of seeing psychologists, which books might be conducive to soothing mental states, and even touched on subjects like mechanical engineering and vehicle engineering.

They were both aware that the tragic event had happened, but also simultaneously, and without prior agreement, realized it was time to let it pass.

It was quite natural; there was no discussion over it, not even an acknowledgment, and the others who witnessed all this took it without question, thinking it perfectly normal, even with some not realizing such a change had occurred.

But in this universe, Red Hood had to admit that what the Arkham Knight went through was worse, yet there was no sign from either of them to let it go.

Leaving Batman aside, Red Hood really couldn't understand why Arkham Knight insisted on dwelling on the past. For a long time, he himself had been trapped by such emotional ties as if all the relationships he built were because of his death.

It was as if his living now was due to his having died, he faced everyone alive, yet all they cared about was his past death.

Red Hood had been deeply tormented by this, felt pain, and when he wanted to change, found himself powerless, until one day he was saved.

But now, it seemed that the Arkham Knight of this universe not only was not troubled by these kinds of relationships but even took pride in them, intending to maintain them indefinitely. Everyone looked at him as if they were looking at someone who was a resurrected corpse, and talking to him as though they were speaking to a grave.

Red Hood couldn't understand this mentality at all, and he was acutely aware that while Arkham Knight was indulging in it, the harm done to himself was set aside, he himself didn't realize that demanding others to focus on his grave was also a drain and harm to them.

You can't just unilaterally decide to stay in the past and arrogantly drag everyone else back there with you, not even if you're dragging Batman.

Had it been someone else, Red Hood might not feel justified in imposing on them to move out of their mental shadows like some moral kidnapping, but Arkham Knight was another version of himself; his show of concern seemed excessive, wouldn't it cause those who met him to assume that other counterparts also cared that much?

This could cause a lot of trouble. Red Hood thought, anger edging his thoughts. Just now, when the other Robins from the Arkham Universe were telling their stories, Nightwing and Red Robin were giving him looks that were slightly off—looks that seemed to say, are you sure you're as okay as you seem?

Again, when people believe you don't need to explain, the matter is practically beyond justification. And when they put on an air of "I understand, I know everything," whether it's true or not, it becomes the truth.

What does that guy's damned fragility have to do with me? Red Hood was enraged all the way, was it his fault that a psychologically fragile pity case emerged in this universe? Hadn't I worked hard to free myself from that predicament, only to be dragged back in with one stroke?

Already simmering with anger, Red Hood now found himself caught and brought in to clean up Arkham Knight's mess, further fueling the rage he nurtured. He too had grown up on the streets of Gotham, not like Bruce Wayne, who was raised in an ivory tower and could be so easily cursed out.

King Robin might be brutal, cruel, and out of touch with humanity, but when it comes to cussing someone out, he couldn't hold a candle to a street kid, just as, even if the Joker showed up, if you made him insult a rapper using only words, he probably couldn't outswear him either.

The Red hood was getting angrier by the minute, his insults growing increasingly vile; it wasn't so much about executing a plan, but rather a litany driven by personal vendetta.

It wasn't enough for him to call the traps and actions of King Robin childish; he began berating the Joker, the instigator of this mess, and how could he insult the Joker without dragging Batman into it? While walking through the ruins of the Capitol Building, he cursed the ancestors of this group of people back to the eighteenth generation.

King Robin had never faced such a situation where people cursed him without fear; but what does it mean when they start cursing others instead? Isn't that a bit disrespectful to me?

"I've set so many traps for you, and out of every ten curses you utter, only one is directed at me, the rest are all about the Joker and Batman. Am I worse than them?"

This was equivalent to stepping on King Robin's tail because he had another unspoken secret for coming here, which was also why he was so eager to get answers from Batman now.

His master had recruited an entity that was a combination of the Joker and Batman. King Robin had had a minor friction with him before and had started making his own schemes, so naturally, he wanted to figure out what was really going on with this guy.

But that wasn't something that could be investigated, and King Robin didn't dare to ask directly, so he chose a different path, searching for another entity that was a fusion of Batman and the Joker—eventually finding Arkham Batman.

He harbored a sly little thought he couldn't openly express, believing that he wasn't inferior to the fusion of Batman and the Joker; because he was a naturally evil Batman, unique in the cosmos. This time, he was determined to prove he was stronger than such a Batman and make the fusion submit willingly, regaining the face he had lost in their previous friction.

Now, the Red hood had been ranting and raving, with Batman and the Joker still the main focus of his tirade, as if King Robin were just an insignificant catalyst used to provoke a confrontation between rivals—could King Robin bear such insult?

He immediately ordered the crazed Robins stationed at the Capitol Building to swarm and commanded them to tear the Red hood to shreds.

Unfortunately for them, the Red hood wasn't caught unprepared. Before he left, the Robins stripped Spider-Man naked of his gadgets. While the Spider-Man suit didn't fit because of size differences, the new Spider-Man recruits who had joined the Spider Legion had more than just suits.

Nick was overly concerned that these rookie hotheads would get themselves—and by extension, him—into serious trouble with their recklessness, so he prepared them with ample defensive measures.

Besides the enhanced Spider Silk Launcher, there were Laser Shields, Nano Reconnaissance Drones, Time Leap Devices (only applicable in Marvel), drone swarms capable of forming a hive, the Mechanical Omnipotent Eye, a Magic Wand containing five Shield Spells, and so on. Put together, their accessory arsenal was formidable.

Armed with this newbie gift pack, the Red hood exerted an even greater power due to his rich combat experience and proficiency in narrow-space street fighting. He turned the various evasive and flanking tactics into an art form, making several teams of crazed Robins fail to lay a finger on him,, instead getting them beaten until they saw stars.

King Robin cursed his useless subordinates from inside Wayne Tower, fuming with rage, he pulled a small bottle from his belt and shouted into the air, "Tawny, Tawny, go now and deal with that guy in the red hood! Or I'll put you back in the bottle—you hear me?!"

"The bottle! It's the bottle!" Barbara yelled through the Red hood's communicator: "Your Nano Reconnaissance Drones are in the bottle—pour them out and use the bottle to capture the fifth-dimensional being! Its name is Tawny!"

"How do I capture it?!"

"I don't know, just try it!"

Whoosh—a small shadow appeared before the Red hood. Before he could make out its form, a mighty force hit him on the chin.

Bang—the Red hood was knocked down to the ground.

He rolled on the ground, clutching the bottle tightly, yanking off the cap, then was flung by a huge force, rolling several times and retching.

Then he flashed One Hand, took out the bottle, and shouted towards the bottle's mouth, "Tawny! Get in here! Tawny!"

"Say it backwards!" Jason yelled.

"Get in here! Tawny Devit!"

Whoosh—bang!

The Red hood caught the bottle with a look of surprise on his face, looked down, and saw the pitiful fifth-dimensional imp inside.