"Ah!!" Blob screamed, his voice twisted in agony.
This time, it wasn't just fat spilling out—it was real blood. His ability had finally been breached. The twin blades had pierced deep enough to tear through his thick layers of blubber and strike living tissue.
"It hurts! It really hurts!" He howled.
Ever since he'd gained his powers and become this walking mass of fat, he hadn't felt pain like this in a long time. The sudden pain ignited the fury buried deep in his heart.
"You're dead! I'll kill you!" Blob roared.
Gritting his teeth, he tore the two katanas from his shoulders with a wet, squelching sound. Blood poured from the wounds, but his swelling body had already begun to regenerate. He rose to his full height, his massive form towering over the battered mercenary.
Then he raised one foot, aiming to bring it down on Deathstroke's skull.
If that foot landed, it would be the end. His head would be crushed into paste. And if the brain was completely destroyed, even someone like him couldn't survive.
The danger was as real as it could get.
But just then, a bright light shot into Gotham's night sky.
It was the bat signal.
That huge bat-shaped glow lit up from the rooftop of the Gotham City Police Department.
"Batman?"
Blob noticed the sudden change, but it was already too late.
A dark shadow streaked across the sky, and with it came a sharp hook that shot down from above. It embedded itself directly into the gaping wound left by Deathstroke's katanas, tearing into the mutant's exposed flesh.
"AHHH!!!" Blob let out another scream.
But there was no time to react. The other end of the hook was already pulling tight—connected to a hovering Batplane in the air.
"His gravity control only works when he's in contact with the ground? What a flawed ability," came a voice from the cockpit.
The pilot was Kate Kane—Batwoman, 'Bruce Wayne's' cousin, and one of Gotham's newest protectors.
"Hook is locked in," she said through her comms. "Batman, are you ready?"
Elsewhere, on a rooftop overlooking the battle, 'Batman' stood motionless, watching the scene unfold. On his right arm was a heavy metal gauntlet—a shock glove developed with Wayne Enterprises tech. Too heavy for fast-paced regular combat, but a single punch from it could deliver over a ton of force.
"I'm in position," he replied. "Lift him up."
Hearing 'Bruce's' response, Batwoman pulled the Batplane higher into the air. With the aircraft's power, even Blob's enormous frame was lifted off the ground. The moment he lost contact with the earth, his gravity control ability failed completely.
At the same time, 'Batman' leapt from the rooftop. With the shock glove aimed straight at the mutant's head, he delivered a punch that landed with a force of over ten thousand newtons.
Thud!
The same dull sound that had struck Deathstroke's head earlier now echoed from Blob's skull.
No matter how much fat covered his body, the head was always the hardest place to build up fat. Not even bullets could be blocked there, let alone a punch from 'Batman.'
That single blow knocked Blob unconscious. His body went limp, hanging from the cable.
"It's done," 'Batman' muttered. "Shame Azazel was taken out too early. The mental gas and sonic weapons I prepared never got used."
His words revealed the deeper truth behind tonight's events.
Batwoman didn't know the full plan, but 'Batman,' as Reid's clone, had prepared everything in advance.
He knew the mutants would come for Joker. That had always been part of the plan. He'd allowed himself to be delayed by a robbery a few blocks away to give Batwoman the time she needed. The goal tonight was to take down the two mutants from the Brotherhood—Azazel and Blob.
Unfortunately, Deathstroke's unexpected involvement led to Azazel being defeated too soon and managing to escape. In the end, only Blob was captured.
As 'Batman' looked at the unconscious mutant hanging from the hook, he already knew how it would end.
When Batwoman wasn't paying attention, he had already coated the hook with a toxin that dissolved fat.
For someone like Blob, who was mostly fat, the result was obvious. His death would be disguised as a rare medical condition and no one would suspect a thing.
The mutants might sense what was really going on. But that didn't matter. 'Batman's' true objective was to make sure Batwoman—a hero he couldn't fully control, wouldn't question his actions. That was enough.
While 'Batman' stood thinking, Deathstroke climbed back to his feet nearby. He still hadn't recovered from the madness brought on by his injuries.
Now that the gravity suppression was gone and his body was free again, he grabbed his katanas from the ground and lunged straight at his rescuer.
Naturally, 'Batman' would never be caught off guard. But instead of moving, he stood still and watched.
Just as the katana was about to strike his neck, Deathstroke suddenly froze.
His face twisted with effort. He was putting everything into the swing. Yet the katana wouldn't move an inch closer to his target, as if some unseen force held him back.
"So it really is the system's doing, huh?"
Even though he was now Batman, at the end of the day, standing in front of Deathstroke was still a fragment of Reid.
It was the perfect moment to test whether what the system had claimed was true. That a follower who would never betray or harm him, no matter what.
And now, the answer was clear, even in a state of madness, Deathstroke couldn't bring himself to hurt him.
Tossing aside all his doubts and conspiracy theories about the system, 'Batman' reached out to mentally connect with his main body in New York.
In the next moment, Deathstroke blinked, his crazed expression fading. The katanas slipped from his hands and clattered onto the ground. Calm slowly returned to his face.
"I… lost control again, didn't I?" he said hoarsely.
"You're back to normal now."
'Batman' stepped forward and picked up the fallen blades without saying much else.
From above, Batwoman dropped down beside them.
"This guy's your backup?" She asked, glancing at Deathstroke with a touch of disdain in her voice.
"Never underestimate anyone," 'Batman' said. "Now let's head back to the cave. If you're still not convinced, you can spar with him there."
With that, the three of them boarded the Batplane and returned to the Batcave, bringing an end to tonight's chaos in Gotham.
About thirty minutes later, Batwoman walked out of the training room, her face clearly frustrated. Behind her, Deathstroke followed, calm and composed.
The sparring session was over and the result was obvious.
It was common knowledge that with enough preparation, Batman could take on the entire Justice League by himself.
And Deathstroke? Even without the advantage of gathering intel from inside the League, he had managed to do the same.
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