DC hero at Marvel

The bellhop at the Continental Hotel widened his eyes as he watched a massive motorcycle with wide tires charging straight toward him. He quickly dodged to the side.

Boom!!

The hotel's bulletproof glass door shattered with a loud crash.

The steel frame by the wall, as flimsy as paper, was crushed under the motorcycle, twisted into scrap metal.

Screech!

The motorcycle skidded to a stop in the hotel lobby, leaving a prominent black tire mark on the floor.

Finally, it halted.

The man riding the motorcycle dismounted, clad in pitch-black armor with a helmet sporting pointed ears. His eyes held a cold gleam as he calmly surveyed the area.

At the entrance.

The bellhop, who had successfully dodged, reacted.

He pulled a gun from his waist, aiming it at the man in front of him.

"Batman?"

He had seen the recently popular movie and recognized the costume's likeness. "Where'd this lunatic come from? Don't move! If you're here to mess around at the Continental Hotel, you're not enough to—"

Bang!!

Anton's expression didn't change. He flipped his hand, throwing a Batarang.

Slash!

Blood spurted as the gun fell to the ground.

The bellhop's wrist had been sliced, and he clutched his bleeding stump with a look of agony. Staring at the man dressed as the movie character, his eyes were filled with terror.

"For real?"

The thought crossed his mind; he had no intention of retaliating. He grabbed his severed hand and ran.

He knew he couldn't mess with someone like this.

As for the severed hand, he'd get it treated at a hospital. Rumor had it that a certain Doctor Strange was an excellent surgeon.

Meanwhile.

Anton's arrival had attracted the Continental Hotel's attention.

"Trouble?"

"Killing at the Continental Hotel—you're breaking hotel rules. Do you have a death wish?"

Immediately, the guests in the hotel began to retreat.

Other bellhops and assassins gathered around, their gazes fixed on Anton standing by his motorcycle in the center of the lobby.

"Rules?"

Anton glanced at the person who spoke, his voice low. "I'm here to establish new rules."

"Kill him!"

A shout went up.

Before the words even finished, people raised their guns, pulling the triggers in unison.

Whoosh!

To their astonishment, the motorcycle vanished.

And so did Anton, the man dressed as Batman, standing next to it.

Shing!

Batarangs flew through the air.

The brightly lit Continental Hotel suddenly plunged into darkness.

Shadows flickered everywhere.

The muzzle flashes briefly illuminated a towering silhouette, but they couldn't harm Batman lurking in the darkness.

"Ahhh!"

"Where is he?"

"Shit! I'm going to kill you!"

...

Top floor of the Continental Hotel.

Winston received the news from his men and turned on the monitor, seeing only pitch black.

But the sound of intense gunfire and continuous screams filled the room.

"Who's causing trouble?"

He furrowed his brow, anger in his eyes.

"Uh…"

The man reporting hesitated, then said, "Batman."

"Who's that?"

Winston had never heard the name before, but the gunfight and screams coming from the dark monitor screen made his expression grow tense. "Who is Batman? He doesn't seem like a nobody."

"He's a movie character."

The informant looked puzzled.

Honestly, he felt the same way Winston did when he first heard the news.

"A movie character?"

Winston looked baffled, his anger undiminished. No matter what, someone had broken into his domain, trampling the rules of the Continental Hotel without fear. This was more than a simple matter of respect.

If he didn't handle it well, he might lose his position as the hotel's head.

The High Table would never tolerate such an affront to its dignity.

"Mobilize all assassins!"

Winston's face was cold. "I want him dead in front of me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

The man nodded. "The order's already been issued."

"Good."

Winston's gaze was dark, his anger simmering. "Find out who this Batman is. I want to know what's going on."

...

Back in the lobby.

In the darkness, a massive bat shadow flitted through the shadows, hovering above as it took down every assassin in sight.

One by one, they fell, wounded and lying in pools of blood, yet none of them died.

Defeated, the hall filled with groans, transforming into a hellish scene.

The assassins lay in their own blood, enduring the pain, watching the ghostly figure still flitting among them like a reaper wielding a scythe, fear filling their eyes.

If they had another chance, they swore they wouldn't have stayed to fire on him. They'd have run, like the bellhop had.

This was Batman's brutal approach to dealing with violence.

In a way, he instilled more fear in these criminals than even the Joker.

Anton's mission was to step over the bodies in the Continental Hotel establish his own rules.

After this battle, he didn't just want the name Batman to echo in the underworld. He wanted everyone to know that the newly emerged Batman was no mere child's play.

Before long.

Amidst the groans, Anton moved toward the staircase, transforming into a one-man army.

With every move, he grew more familiar with Bruce Wayne's skills imprinted in his memory. This overwhelming, transformative feeling could only be described as having a cheat code.

Simply put, against these ordinary assassins, Anton was unstoppable. He'd kill them all if he had to.

Boom!!

The blast from a powerful shotgun made Anton raise his eyebrows.

A Black man in a sharp suit stood by the wall, holding a shotgun. He narrowed his eyes, relying on the faint sounds to track Anton's movements.

It was clear he wasn't surprised that the first shot hadn't hit Anton.

This was likely an assassin on par with John Wick.

the Continental Hotel was full of talented individuals skilled in murder and interrogation techniques, but that was child's play compared to what Bruce Wayne mastered.

Anton stepped into the hallway with ease.

Boom!

The Black man fired again.

Anton's basic Batman armor, though simple, had some impact resistance. It didn't have the same level of firepower as other armors, but it added to his strength.

With the armor's protection, Anton fought with full force.

Bang!!

Anton stood still, letting the massive force of the shotgun blast spread across his chest.

"What?"

The Black man's eyes widened, showing the whites in shock.

He hadn't expected this costumed stranger's armor to withstand such a powerful shotgun blast.

This wasn't ordinary gear.

It was on par with military tech!

"Heh."

Anton smirked, walking up to him.

Bang!

One punch was all it took to send the Black man flying, leaving him sprawled on the ground, spitting blood.

Stepping over him, Anton approached a metal door.

Bang!

With one punch, he smashed the control panel, using his "knowledgeable" skills to easily open the door that should've been impenetrable.

Inside.

A man holding a glass of whiskey stared grimly at Anton.

"Winston, I was hoping you'd help me stretch this out for two chapters."

Anton sounded disappointed. "Turns out you didn't even last one."