Bruce is not a superhero in the popular sense.

He has an extremely deep understanding of society, politics, war, and human nature. Therefore, he was not surprised when he learned of the secret transaction between the Assassin League and the high-level Americans from Andrew.

The truth in the world is not only black and white. In many cases, gray is the main color.

Andrew couldn't stand the torture. Bruce asked what he asked. When it came to power armor, his eyes were a little erratic, and he finally said a name.

"Dern Albert?"

Bruce frowned, feeling something extraordinary. "Which Dern Albert?"

"There is only one Dern Albert in the White House."

He did not say the position of this person, Bruce already knew, CIA Deputy Director Dern Albert, the absolute top of the U.S. authority.

"He gave you the core technology?"

"Yes it is."

"Why does he give such an important technology to the Assassin Alliance?"

"I... I'm just a middleman."

"Where did the technology in his hands come from?"

"It seems to be Tesla. It is rumored that they provided it. I don't know how it is."

Bruce's expression changed, and he realized that this matter was far more complicated than expected. The CIA provided such an important technology as power armor to the killer organization. What do they want to do, cooperate? Or is it a war?

And what role does Tesla play in it?

Andrew hissed, "I've said everything I should say, please, let me go, I... I'm just a contact person, and I haven't done anything bad."

Bruce punched him, told him to shut up, and continued,

"The last question, how did those armors flow into the market? Where is the secret port?"

Half an hour later, Bruce took off his night clothes, put on a suit, and appeared at the upper-class banquet. Alfred came to him with a wine glass.

"As a retired agent, I sincerely advise you not to investigate further."

Bruce shook his head in silence, refusing the butler's kindness.

Alfred said helplessly, "The deputy director of the CIA is not an ordinary person, and the consequences of torturing him are hard to predict.

"I will find evidence first."

Bruce picked up the wine glass and walked to the two exposed **** girls. Tonight, he is not Batman, but only a flower girl of the Wayne family.

...

On the west coast, somewhere in a slightly remote port.

It was early in the morning, and the port was still operating. A cruise ship full of containers was docked in the deep water area. A dozen heavily armed soldiers appeared on the deck. They were dressed in Marine Corps clothes and armed with military-standard weapons. There are epaulettes, positions, ranks, and numbers, just like real soldiers, but once you get close you will find that they speak Arabic.

The crane transported the container to the dock. The person in charge opened the container. After seeing the power armor inside, he rubbed his hands in excitement. As he greeted, the port immediately became lively.

The staff moved the power armor to the truck, and the person in charge went to connect with the cruise ship owner.

The sea wind roared, and the busy people did not notice that there was another person on the roof. That person was like a ghost, blending with the darkness, or in other words, he himself was darkness.

Bruce took out a voice collector to eavesdrop on the conversation on the cruise ship. This is not the first time the two parties have conducted a transaction. Similar smuggling activities have been carried out dozens of times. In addition to power armor, there is also a special metal on the cruise ship called kryptonite.

"Kryptonite?"

Bruce raised his brows slightly, and he was completely unfamiliar with this word. Judging from the conversation between the two of them, it is not difficult to judge that this kind of metal is far more important than power armor.

"Is there a special purpose?"

Many questions surfaced in his heart. After thinking for a moment, Bruce decided to change the original plan and set his goal on kryptonite. He wanted to know what this metal was used for.

After the conversation, the person in charge left the deck carrying the silver box. At the same time, the handling work came to an end. A total of 500 sets of imitation power armor, 300 sets of light, 200 sets of heavy, and matching weapon devices.

Although it is far inferior to Tesla's products in terms of performance, safety, and stability, it is enough for the gangs who have been in the underground world all year round.

The purpose of their purchase of power armor is not to show off, but to protect themselves, fight the police, and fight the FBI.

As Bruce once said, once the magic box is opened, there are endless troubles.

The police used power armor to destroy one gang after another. On the contrary, the gang members would also respond. They could not buy through formal channels and had to go through the back door.

When there is demand, there is market.

This is how the pirates come.

Seven large trucks full of power armor started in turn and left the port in batches. A black car was escorted behind each truck, and the person in charge was the last batch to leave.

Not long after they left, a cool black off-road sports car rushed out of the woods and galloped in the direction where the truck had left.

The sports car was extremely fast, and it only took a few minutes to catch up.

Bruce was not polite. They met with two missiles. The car's **** was hit by the missile and flew directly into the sky. After a 270-degree somersault, it hit the road heavily.

The large truck was even more miserable. The cargo box overturned and slid on the ground. After rushing out of the road, it plunged into the ditch next to it.

Bruce walked to the car lying on the side of the road, ignoring the two young men, and pointed directly at the person in charge who was carrying the silver box. His left hand was handcuffed to the box. Even if he was confused, he still clung to the handle.

Bruce dragged him out, stuffed him into the trunk of the sports car, the wheels started, and disappeared into the night.

After dozens of minutes, somewhere on a sparsely populated cliff.

The person in charge of regaining consciousness looked at the tall figure in front of him with an ugly face,

"Batman?"

"Asshole, do you know what you are doing?"

Bruce ignored him and opened the metal box. Five bumpy ores appeared in front of him. The ores flashed green from time to time, which looked very strange.

"What is kryptonite used for?"

The person in charge grinned and was about to mock, suddenly a fist appeared in front of him.

boom!

The bridge of the nose made a clear cracking sound, blood spattered out, and along with the ups and downs, painful tears flowed out.

Bruce pushed him to the ground and beat him wildly~lightnovelpub.net~ and then kicked him down the cliff.

The person in charge screamed in horror.

"I said, I said, don't kill me, I'll tell you all."

Bruce grabbed his clothes and didn't let him fall.

"who are you?"

"Larry Edward."

"What is the identity?"

The person in charge hesitated, Bruce let go of his right hand, his clothes fell down, and the person in charge suddenly panicked.

"I am an arms dealer, responsible for reselling imitation power armor."

Bruce said coldly, "What I want is a real identity, not a middleman."

Edward's face changed suddenly, his eyes flickering, he could only smile bitterly when Bruce was about to let go.

"I work for the CIA."