Chapter 381: The Underground Labyrinth (1)
Luke's Mechanized Advance
The underground labyrinth has a total of seven entrances and exits. Apart from a secret passage known only to the Grandmasters, the other six are distributed across various areas of Gotham City. Some are in the city center, some in the suburbs, and some are disguised by factories.
With the current crisis—the complete collapse of the Court of Owls' offensive and their shift to defense—they must secure their escape routes. Luke understood the mindset of these "upper-class" people well. Though they presented themselves perfectly, their first thought in danger was never to advance, but to retreat. Everyone fears death, and the rich and powerful fear it most of all.
Five of the six publicly known entrances are within the city, with only one located outside the city—this would be their best option for escape.
As the night deepened, the clock struck midnight.
Luke and ten of his subordinates in power armor arrived at a farm outside the city. The farm owner, Willie, was a member of the Court of Owls, effectively a guard dog.
He was guarding the warehouse and immediately raised his hunting rifle when he saw the approaching figures.
"Who are you? This is my home! Get out!"
Bang!
A gunshot pierced the night. Willie's eyes widened. A thumb-sized, circular hole appeared in his forehead, and his brain matter slowly seeped out onto the ground.
"Throw his corpse into the pigpen."
"Understood, Boss."
One subordinate stepped forward, dragging Willie by the leg. The others were indifferent, long used to such scenes. Everyone participating in this operation was one of Luke's trusted inner circle, and every person's hands were stained with blood. Killing was perfectly normal for them.
Luke strode forward and kicked open the warehouse door. The stench of horse manure rushed out. He waved his hand in disgust.
"Clear out everything inside."
His men quickly went to work, and in minutes, the warehouse, previously stacked high with hay and straw, was completely cleared. Luke walked around the warehouse, stopping at a specific spot. His pants began to change, flowing like liquid. Upon closer inspection, one could see they were composed of millions of tiny metal particles. These nanoparticles, controlled by a core program, merged in a miraculous way, transforming into silver armor that covered his legs.
This was Luke's new portable armor, an advanced version of Ghost-2, developed using Kryptonian energy technology, Zamarons' dimensional material folding, and nanotechnology. Its performance far exceeded the first generation. Its advantages and disadvantages remained the same: it could be worn instantly, could change into different styles of clothing and jewelry (eliminating the hassle of laundry), offered merely excellent attack and defense, and had a short battery life.
Visible air ripples appeared on the armor's surface. Zamarons' energy technology was far inferior to Kryptonian tech, but they excelled in field manipulation and material construction. These air ripples were a product of Zamarons technology. Unlike an energy field, they offered high physical defense and could generate shockwaves.
"Open!" Luke shouted, lifting his right leg and smashing it down. A white burst of air gathered at the sole of his foot and exploded upon contact with the ground. Milky white waves of air swept outward, scattering dust that rattled against the walls.
Once the dust settled, a downward-sloping metal door appeared on the floor.
"This is it," Luke murmured, giving an order. "Open the door."
Two subordinates stepped forward and forcefully lifted the iron door. A cold wind rushed out, revealing an underground tunnel two meters wide and long.
Dior turned on his light source and went in first.
The tunnel descended for a full three hundred meters before opening into a spacious cavern. Judging by the walls, it was a natural grotto that had been artificially widened.
"Ava, set the trajectory."
"Understood, Boss."
A moment later, squeaking sounds came from the front. Three large, sturdy rats crawled out of the corner, their red eyes faintly glowing in the shadows. One of them approached Luke. Its slightly bloated body split open in the middle, revealing a flashing red signal source.
Luke nodded slightly.
"Lead the way."
The rat seemed to understand Luke's command. It walked side-by-side with the other two rats, taking the lead.
Exiting the grotto, they were faced with five circular junctions that all looked identical. This marked the official beginning of the labyrinth. According to the intelligence provided by Delk and the "rats," the total area of the underground labyrinth (including all side passages and undeveloped natural caves) was roughly one-quarter the size of Gotham City.
Without a map, it would be impossible for a normal person to find the exit in such a complex and massive maze—unless that person was Bruce Wayne.
Luke knew he didn't possess Batman's luck. To prevent any mishaps, he had deployed his "rat" army two nights ago. Over a hundred mechanical rats scurried through the maze. After a day of exploration, they had successfully mapped the correct route.
With the route map, the so-called labyrinth was merely a slightly exciting underground adventure for him.
Batman's Grueling Trial
In stark contrast to Luke's effortless journey, Bruce Wayne's experience was grueling. No, it was exceptionally difficult.
He had already taken nine wrong turns, encountered fifteen traps, and endured seven consecutive assassination attempts by Talons.
Despite being fully prepared, Bruce had suffered unprecedented injuries. He had a deep stab wound in his abdomen, which was bleeding profusely, and his eyes were nearly shut due to chemical burns from poisonous gas.
Stumbling for an hour, the pale-faced Batman had to stop. After treating his wound and replenishing his energy, he took out his tracker to confirm his position.
He was currently directly beneath Ninth High School, about three miles in a straight line from the warehouse location provided to Jim Gordon. Typically, the Court's warehouses were built near the main structure, meaning that by locating the warehouse, he might find the members' hiding place.
After confirming his route, Bruce stood up again, activated his night vision, and cautiously moved forward.
Exiting the narrow corridor, he was once again faced with four identical junctions. Bruce clenched his fist, a look of faint exhaustion in his eyes. Based on his previous experience, only one of the four junctions was the correct route; the others were either death traps or dead ends.
"No matter what, I will find you. I absolutely won't allow you to continue controlling Gotham."
With renewed resolve, Bruce marked the entrance he had just used, then chose the far right path. Fifteen minutes later, smelling strongly of kerosene, he reappeared at the junction. If he hadn't been cautious moments ago, he would have been roasted alive.
"Court of Owls!"
Bruce took a deep breath and chose the middle junction. After a short walk, he heard the rushing sound of water. It came from ahead, suggesting an underground river. The water was flowing rapidly, meaning this river was likely a subterranean branch of the Queens River, the Merchants River, or the Atlantic Ocean.
"The underground river should be potable. There might be a water point nearby." Bruce muttered to himself, a grim look in his eyes.
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