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Chapter 94: The Old City Battlefield
October 19, 2022 Author: Great Demon Spirit
Night enveloped everything, and boundless darkness covered the land. Dark clouds drifted through the sky, layer upon layer, slowly obscuring the last sliver of the moon. Looking up, the entire sky was pitch-black, without a single glimmer of starlight.
The residents of the prosperous New City District had long since drifted off to dreamland, or for a small number of young people, their colorful nightlife had just begun.
But in the dilapidated and backward Old City, many people moved stealthily in the darkness, like predators lurking in the night, waiting for their prey to appear.
This was a group of shabbily dressed people; it was clear their living conditions were not good. Every one of them held a weapon—be it a hunting rifle, a pistol, or in some cases, a brand-new machine gun or shotgun.
"Is everyone here? Falcon's goons will be here soon," the burly man in the lead said softly.
"Are we a bit short on manpower? We already lost thirty-seven men in the firefight the day before yesterday, and we're low on ammo."
"Don't worry about that. I heard the higher-ups told us to wait for the right moment. Tony won't abandon us. He secretly stockpiled a large cache of weapons throughout the Old City a long time ago! Rumor has it that Tony is planning something. We need to incite more people to resist Falcon. The dawn will surely come."
"That Mechanist? I heard he can mass-produce all kinds of weapons. I wonder if it's true," the people chattered excitedly. Metahumans were a rare sight, to say nothing of someone as famous as Tony.
"I heard he's a vicious character, is that right?"
"He's encouraging us to rebel. Does that mean he wants to replace Falcon and become the new gang boss?"
The group was mostly made up of young men, and they discussed amongst themselves, their faces filled with expressions of yearning. It was a group of mixed ages. There was the leader, who looked to be in his forties or fifties, and youths of seventeen or eighteen. Although they had fought desperately against Falcon several times recently, they couldn't hide their youthful nature.
"Why do we have to fight? Why don't we try to make peace with the Falcon family?" one young man asked timidly, muttering the words.
The others fell silent for a moment, then broke into cold sneers, mocking the boy's naive idea.
"If talking could solve problems, what would we need guns for?" A large man brandished his new firearm. It was the best weapon he had ever owned; he even slept with it every night. He had used this very weapon to kill four of Falcon's henchmen recently.
"But my mom told me that many problems can be solved by just saying sorry in time. She reminded me not to always get into conflicts with people..." His face was still tender, clearly not yet an adult, and some of his ideas were still very naive.
"And where is she now?"
"Dead. Died of an illness the year before last. We had no money for medicine..."
"Exactly. If your family could find work, unless it was some major illness, you would get timely treatment... If the Falcon family didn't control the Old City, you wouldn't have ended up like this!" The leader wiped his gun. "With scum like Falcon, 'sorry' is useless. Only blood will make them take notice. The first time he bullies you, you chop off his arm. The second time he bullies you, you chop off his leg. Then there's no way they'll bully you a third time. It's a simple principle."
"In this world, teaching them a lesson with your fists is far more effective than just running your mouth! Only by making Falcon feel extreme pain will they back off a little," the leader said, bringing the topic to a close.
The men quieted down. They waited silently, clutching their weapons tightly, their eyes flickering with something called "hope." They were using their own hands to push back against the villainous Falcon family.
Right now, the entire Old City, apart from a few densely populated areas, had seen its peripheral regions descend into a battlefield. Here, abandoned buildings and factories provided the perfect combat zones. Many civilian resistance groups operated mainly in these fringe areas, only periodically dispatching small teams to secretly transport food and ammunition.
The exception was a large plot of land near the Arkham district, which was said to have been purchased by Wayne Enterprises. It was undergoing massive construction day and night, with all sorts of heavy trucks delivering materials daily. Although Wayne Enterprises claimed it was to improve traffic, it didn't look like it. The commotion was too great, not to mention the entire construction process was strictly sealed off...
Through the murky shadows, the men from the Falcon family finally arrived. The resistance fighters had received a tip that Falcon's scum would be sweeping this area tonight, giving them a perfect opportunity for an ambush.
"Hey, something's not right. How come there are so many of them... Th-th-this is too many!"
Although there was almost no light at night, occasional rays from other areas managed to stretch across the distance and faintly illuminate the scene. In the blurry darkness, a dense crowd of people was rushing toward their position, accompanied by the sounds of shouting and dogs barking.
The leader's face immediately turned ashen! He knew instantly that they had been sold out! Or rather, the intel they had bought was flawed from the start!
"Bastard! If I get out of this alive, I don't care who it was, I'll hunt them down and get my revenge!" The leader gritted his teeth so hard he could have shattered them. He gripped his weapon; at this moment, only this gun could give him a sense of security.
"What do we do? What do we do? Should we retreat?" The men began to panic.
The leader barked, "All of you, shut up! You're giving away our position! Listen, I'll stay behind and cover you. You all escape in the chaos! When you get back, make sure you kill the one who sold us the intel!"
The men looked at each other. Someone whispered that he would stay too and fight it out with the bastards on the other side, but he was immediately shouted down by the leader. He was determined to stay behind himself, to buy time for his comrades to escape!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Falcon's men seemed to have spotted them. Someone had already started firing a machine gun, the sound mixed with the piercing barks of dogs.
Despair began to creep onto some of their faces. Resistance fighters had clashed with Falcon's forces from time to time recently, but they undoubtedly lost more than they won. Many had already died in the fighting. It wasn't that they hadn't considered this day would come—how could you take up a gun to risk your life without being prepared to die? They just never thought they would die in such a pathetic, frustrating way.
The men grew agitated. Some decided to throw caution to the wind, raising their weapons and firing back. If they were going to die, they would take someone down with them. A look of desperate ferocity appeared on every face; these civilian soldiers were ready to fight to the death.
Rumble!
A series of massive explosions suddenly erupted, accompanied by towering flames that shot into the sky, exceptionally blinding in the pitch-black night! In the nearby darkness, a Giant Robot emerged, striding forward with heavy steps. The massive thing was about four or five meters tall and astonishingly heavy; each step it took made the ground tremble slightly.
Most importantly, there wasn't just one of these massive things. Many smaller shadows followed behind it.
As the resistance fighters stared, dumbfounded, a young man walked over. Standing under the light of the soaring flames, he looked up at the people wailing amidst the artillery fire, a mocking look in his eyes.
"The Joker hasn't killed you all yet... Of the Falcon family, only Maroni is left clinging to life, right? As much as I hate to admit it, I have to say, the Falcon family was instrumental in getting me to this point. Otherwise, it would have been more of a hassle."
(end of chapter)
October 19, 2022 Author: Great Demon Spirit
Night enveloped everything, and boundless darkness covered the land. Dark clouds drifted through the sky, layer upon layer, slowly obscuring the last sliver of the moon. Looking up, the entire sky was pitch-black, without a single glimmer of starlight.
The residents of the prosperous New City District had long since drifted off to dreamland, or for a small number of young people, their colorful nightlife had just begun.
But in the dilapidated and backward Old City, many people moved stealthily in the darkness, like predators lurking in the night, waiting for their prey to appear.
This was a group of shabbily dressed people; it was clear their living conditions were not good. Every one of them held a weapon—be it a hunting rifle, a pistol, or in some cases, a brand-new machine gun or shotgun.
"Is everyone here? Falcon's goons will be here soon," the burly man in the lead said softly.
"Are we a bit short on manpower? We already lost thirty-seven men in the firefight the day before yesterday, and we're low on ammo."
"Don't worry about that. I heard the higher-ups told us to wait for the right moment. Tony won't abandon us. He secretly stockpiled a large cache of weapons throughout the Old City a long time ago! Rumor has it that Tony is planning something. We need to incite more people to resist Falcon. The dawn will surely come."
"That Mechanist? I heard he can mass-produce all kinds of weapons. I wonder if it's true," the people chattered excitedly. Metahumans were a rare sight, to say nothing of someone as famous as Tony.
"I heard he's a vicious character, is that right?"
"He's encouraging us to rebel. Does that mean he wants to replace Falcon and become the new gang boss?"
The group was mostly made up of young men, and they discussed amongst themselves, their faces filled with expressions of yearning. It was a group of mixed ages. There was the leader, who looked to be in his forties or fifties, and youths of seventeen or eighteen. Although they had fought desperately against Falcon several times recently, they couldn't hide their youthful nature.
"Why do we have to fight? Why don't we try to make peace with the Falcon family?" one young man asked timidly, muttering the words.
The others fell silent for a moment, then broke into cold sneers, mocking the boy's naive idea.
"If talking could solve problems, what would we need guns for?" A large man brandished his new firearm. It was the best weapon he had ever owned; he even slept with it every night. He had used this very weapon to kill four of Falcon's henchmen recently.
"But my mom told me that many problems can be solved by just saying sorry in time. She reminded me not to always get into conflicts with people..." His face was still tender, clearly not yet an adult, and some of his ideas were still very naive.
"And where is she now?"
"Dead. Died of an illness the year before last. We had no money for medicine..."
"Exactly. If your family could find work, unless it was some major illness, you would get timely treatment... If the Falcon family didn't control the Old City, you wouldn't have ended up like this!" The leader wiped his gun. "With scum like Falcon, 'sorry' is useless. Only blood will make them take notice. The first time he bullies you, you chop off his arm. The second time he bullies you, you chop off his leg. Then there's no way they'll bully you a third time. It's a simple principle."
"In this world, teaching them a lesson with your fists is far more effective than just running your mouth! Only by making Falcon feel extreme pain will they back off a little," the leader said, bringing the topic to a close.
The men quieted down. They waited silently, clutching their weapons tightly, their eyes flickering with something called "hope." They were using their own hands to push back against the villainous Falcon family.
Right now, the entire Old City, apart from a few densely populated areas, had seen its peripheral regions descend into a battlefield. Here, abandoned buildings and factories provided the perfect combat zones. Many civilian resistance groups operated mainly in these fringe areas, only periodically dispatching small teams to secretly transport food and ammunition.
The exception was a large plot of land near the Arkham district, which was said to have been purchased by Wayne Enterprises. It was undergoing massive construction day and night, with all sorts of heavy trucks delivering materials daily. Although Wayne Enterprises claimed it was to improve traffic, it didn't look like it. The commotion was too great, not to mention the entire construction process was strictly sealed off...
Through the murky shadows, the men from the Falcon family finally arrived. The resistance fighters had received a tip that Falcon's scum would be sweeping this area tonight, giving them a perfect opportunity for an ambush.
"Hey, something's not right. How come there are so many of them... Th-th-this is too many!"
Although there was almost no light at night, occasional rays from other areas managed to stretch across the distance and faintly illuminate the scene. In the blurry darkness, a dense crowd of people was rushing toward their position, accompanied by the sounds of shouting and dogs barking.
The leader's face immediately turned ashen! He knew instantly that they had been sold out! Or rather, the intel they had bought was flawed from the start!
"Bastard! If I get out of this alive, I don't care who it was, I'll hunt them down and get my revenge!" The leader gritted his teeth so hard he could have shattered them. He gripped his weapon; at this moment, only this gun could give him a sense of security.
"What do we do? What do we do? Should we retreat?" The men began to panic.
The leader barked, "All of you, shut up! You're giving away our position! Listen, I'll stay behind and cover you. You all escape in the chaos! When you get back, make sure you kill the one who sold us the intel!"
The men looked at each other. Someone whispered that he would stay too and fight it out with the bastards on the other side, but he was immediately shouted down by the leader. He was determined to stay behind himself, to buy time for his comrades to escape!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Falcon's men seemed to have spotted them. Someone had already started firing a machine gun, the sound mixed with the piercing barks of dogs.
Despair began to creep onto some of their faces. Resistance fighters had clashed with Falcon's forces from time to time recently, but they undoubtedly lost more than they won. Many had already died in the fighting. It wasn't that they hadn't considered this day would come—how could you take up a gun to risk your life without being prepared to die? They just never thought they would die in such a pathetic, frustrating way.
The men grew agitated. Some decided to throw caution to the wind, raising their weapons and firing back. If they were going to die, they would take someone down with them. A look of desperate ferocity appeared on every face; these civilian soldiers were ready to fight to the death.
Rumble!
A series of massive explosions suddenly erupted, accompanied by towering flames that shot into the sky, exceptionally blinding in the pitch-black night! In the nearby darkness, a Giant Robot emerged, striding forward with heavy steps. The massive thing was about four or five meters tall and astonishingly heavy; each step it took made the ground tremble slightly.
Most importantly, there wasn't just one of these massive things. Many smaller shadows followed behind it.
As the resistance fighters stared, dumbfounded, a young man walked over. Standing under the light of the soaring flames, he looked up at the people wailing amidst the artillery fire, a mocking look in his eyes.
"The Joker hasn't killed you all yet... Of the Falcon family, only Maroni is left clinging to life, right? As much as I hate to admit it, I have to say, the Falcon family was instrumental in getting me to this point. Otherwise, it would have been more of a hassle."
(end of chapter)
