"The Laughing Bat won't be on the battlefield; he has his own agenda, but he should be somewhere in Gotham City. I'll leave it to you."
Bruce gestured for Diana to take action. He had already spotted his target on the battlefield; the massive figure of the Tyrant was particularly conspicuous a few hundred meters away.
Batman disappeared in the blink of an eye, and so did Barry. Now only Bruce stood in place, fiddling with his phone.
Honestly, the Justice League and the Avengers next door really have different styles. They don't even shout a battle cry before joining the fight.
Maybe it's a difference in leadership style. Captain America likes to shout 'Avengers Assemble!', while Batman usually quietly murmurs 'Let's go' or 'Start the operation' after making all the plans.
Thinking about these random thoughts, Bruce took a deep breath, adjusted the GPS info on his phone to standby mode, put it in his bag, and started advancing toward the battle line. Naturally, this made him a target for many enemies.
"Solid bullet weapons, no need to dodge... This punch is aimed at the head, dodge aside and cut off its leg with the Great Sword... Energy beams, Godslayer Mirror Shield to reflect it back..."
He quickly charged into the crowd, with all sorts of attacks coming from all directions. He moved swiftly, his mind calm, with various countermeasures flashing through his mind one by one.
Like a stone thrown into the sea, blood and severed limbs around Bruce constantly flew into the air, staining the black rock beneath his feet red.
Among these otherworldly villains, some he could guess the identity of, others he couldn't. But now he had steel bones and enhanced self-healing, balanced armor for both physical and magic defense, and the Nightfall Greatsword coated in X Metal. These villains might be stronger than the cannon fodder, but not enough to stop his progress.
He fought his way upstream through the crowd, steadily closing in on the Tyrant under Clark's cover.
Finally, he saw his target.
Perhaps because of the presence of the Doomsday Spores, other villains still kept a certain distance from the Tyrant, leaving a small blank area around him.
He was covered in spikes, like a giant hedgehog walking upright, but his face had completely morphed into a Bat, standing about four meters tall. One of his arms was thicker than Bruce's entire body.
The fragments of a Bat Suit still clung to his chest, nothing more than a piece of rag flapping in the wind. He came from Earth Negative-1, the physically strongest of all the Nightmare Batmen, and due to the Doomsday Virus, he was practically undying.
Doomsday can resurrect infinitely, getting stronger each time, and the method used to kill him last time would no longer be effective.
The Superman of Earth Negative-1 went insane first, with Clark killing his wife and child. Batman felt betrayed, convinced the Kryptonians were inhumane.
He went to Metropolis to fight Superman, but the Kryptonite Weapons were not very effective, and Superman used his Heat Sight to cut off one of his arms.
In desperation, Bruce injected himself with the Doomsday Virus, and fury and power instantly consumed him.
Superman could no longer harm humans, and the Tyrant took only a punch, a grab, and a kick to finish the job.
The Laughing Bat suddenly appeared and told him there were still many worlds where fools believed in Superman.
The Tyrant needed to kill more Supermen to vent his anger at being deceived, so he joined the Dark Knight Order.
After reaching the Main World, a few days ago, he directly threw the Violent Wolf into the sun, without much effort. He also defeated many powerful superheroes, hanging them on the Tuning Fork.
Now, encountering Bruce on the battlefield, an evil smile appeared on his monstrous face.
Despite the herpes and lumps covering his face that had become unrecognizable due to his transformation into a Bat, Bruce knew it was a smile, full of contempt and cruelty.
"Zha Kang, I hope you didn't set me up. If the Scroll you gave me is a fake, you'll have a lot of fun in the future..."
Bruce swung the Great Sword to push back the surrounding enemies quickly, then swiftly took out the Magic Scroll given to him by Zha Kang and set it ablaze without hesitation.
An aroma, both fragrant and putrid, like stinky tofu fried in sesame oil, assaulted his nostrils.
The small Scroll emitted a huge dense smoke, engulfing Bruce entirely for a moment, with the firelight almost invisible, only the black smoke billowed out.
"Cough, cough... So smelly... Is this Scroll written with crap?"
Bruce suddenly felt nauseated; the smell was deeply repulsive and unacceptable, and a faint sense of danger lingered in his heart.
When the smoke cleared, an elderly man with white hair and a spirited appearance stood before Bruce, leaning on a civilized cane.
He wore a high-quality handmade white suit, a friendly smile on his face, holding a handmade cigar, smoking it with satisfaction.
But he was barefoot, with feet as black as if soaked in ink, and even the lower pant legs were black, with endless black mud flowing from them.
In an instant, the spot where the two stood was covered in black mud.
"Aha, Constantine, I came to collect your soul... Huh? Not Constantine?"
The old man looked Bruce up and down, instantly realizing this was another person tricked by Constantine. But whatever, since Constantine offered another fine soul, he would give his filthy soul a few more days of leeway; after all, people always end up dead.
Bruce immediately cursed in his heart. He had indeed guessed that Zha Kang would give him a Summon Devil Scroll, like the particularly belligerent Three Palaces or Neilong, but he hadn't expected him to bring out his ace.
Others might not recognize the old man in front of him, but Bruce needed only to look at those black feet to know.
This was Satan, the strongest among the Hell Demon Kings.
It's hard to say how strong he was, but if he could arm-wrestle God, he couldn't be weak. The key was, he utterly detested Zha Kang.
Zha Kang sold his soul to nearly all the Demon Kings of Hell, and because his soul was so filthy, it was considered a great delicacy for devils, something they all wanted.
He was as crafty as a fox, often causing trouble when making deals with the devils, using all sorts of ways to avoid giving up his soul.
Last time, he tricked Satan into doing a series of major tasks for him, and when the dust settled and Satan reached out to claim his soul, he handed him a chicken...
It turned out the blood on the Contract Scroll wasn't his. He used a Blinding Technique to replace it with chicken blood - essentially, Satan had signed a contract with a chicken. When completed, the contract could only claim the chicken's soul.
This infuriated the Hell Demon King to the point of exploding, but there was nothing to be done. The rules of Hell dictate that everything is a transaction.
While Bruce pondered, Satan turned to survey the battlefield, as if he understood something.
"Oh? A Multiverse crisis? Human who summoned me, would you like to make a deal with me?"
A low laugh emanated, and a burning Pentagram instantly appeared on the ground, isolating all approaching enemies.
Both bullets and energy were blocked by the rapidly rising wall of fire, instantly redirected to the Hell Plane.
"What deal?"
Bruce licked his lips, deep in thought. The nature of the deal was no mystery; it would involve his soul. He had merged with Slade's soul, which was likely no cleaner and stronger than that of ordinary people, making it certainly tempting to the devil.
But he feigned ignorance to stall for more time.