DC & Marvel: This Guy Is Crazy

Chapter 157: Allen Repeatedly Toying with Ra's al Ghul

Boom!

A thunderous explosion rocked the top floor of Wayne Tower.

Instantly, it alarmed the entire city of Gotham.

To dare attack the Wayne family—it was sheer audacity.

Commissioner Gordon immediately rushed to the scene, flanked by numerous officers keeping order.

Soon after, fire trucks arrived to control the blaze.

"Tonight is destined to be a sleepless one."

Gordon gazed up at the flaming rooftop, concern weighing heavy on his heart.

He had received an advance warning that Allen was planning something big.

And now it seemed the warning was spot-on—he had gone so far as to blow up a Gotham landmark.

Indeed, the explosion was Allen's doing.

Rather than waste time sabotaging the ritual site, he figured a bomb would be more efficient.

In moments, the top of Wayne Tower was engulfed in flames, drawing the full attention of Gotham's many factions.

Of course, capitalists always have their safeguards, such as insurance coverage.

After all, in the United States, the insurance industry is a pillar of the economy.

No one can guarantee whether superheroes or supervillains will duke it out near your home.

As flames raged, the Court of Owls quickly changed plans, relocating the ritual site to the Gotham Museum of Antiquities.

Armored trucks disguised as freezer vans emerged from a dark tunnel.

Driving them were Talon warriors, transporting the Pureblood Dukes to the museum.

The journey was smooth—everything had been prearranged for an immediate transfer.

The Court of Owls wielded no small amount of power in Gotham.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, numerous figures stood atop rooftops, quietly watching the convoy.

Naturally, they were Pureblood vampires lying in wait.

Beside Lilith, thirteen Pureblood Princes stood silently, awaiting her command.

"The game has begun," Lilith said with a seductive smile. "Wipe them out in one blow."

To dare violate vampire taboos was to declare oneself an enemy, even a power like the Court of Owls was no exception.

As for the Parliament of Owls above them, the vampires didn't care about them either.

After all, the Court's influence was limited to the U.S., while the vampire clans were a global power.

The Antiquities Museum

A private structure founded alongside Gotham itself.

Most of the time, it remained closed to the public, housing artifacts and antiquities from around the world.

Of course, the means of acquisition were dubious at best—most items had questionable origins.

When the Talons arrived with their cargo, the Judges of the Court, the Strigoi Priests, and Dracula himself were already in place, waiting.

Ra's al Ghul arrived as well, accompanied by numerous elite assassins to ensure security.

At this moment, thirteen Pureblood Dukes were shackled in silver restraints, positioned around the ritual space, gazing in horror at the ritual's center—Dracula.

Once the ritual began, their deaths were inevitable.

Dukes, once exalted and proud, now clung desperately to their lives.

"The ritual must begin at the stroke of midnight," one priest declared.

The Blood God Ritual followed a precise sequence—one mistake, and it would all be for nothing.

Pureblood Dukes from various clans were extremely hard to capture. There would be no second chance.

Unless, of course, they were willing to lower the standards and use low-ranking vampires as substitutes.

Meanwhile, on the museum rooftop—

The "Comedy Troupe" of four Robins were secretly preparing.

A cloaking field generator blocked their scent and body heat from vampire detection.

Nanaue set down a sack and pulled out a bound priest.

The elderly priest, hair completely white, looked upon the bizarre group of three men and a humanoid shark and immediately began to whimper in fear.

His hands and feet were tied, a ball gag stuffed in his mouth.

"Isn't this a bit much for an old man?" Cobblepot hesitated.

"Blame the boss. Ask him." Arthur was busy untying the priest while holding a gun to his head. "Don't scream, okay? I'm very sensitive. If I get triggered, I can't control what I do… hehehe…"

The elderly priest nodded frantically.

He had immediately recognized the infamous criminal—the Joker. And now, with a black mask on, he looked even more deranged.

"I'm an old man… Please don't mess with me…"

His face was full of grievance.

He'd spent a lifetime serving his faith and preserving his purity, only to possibly meet his disgraceful end like this.

"There are vampires here. We need your help with an exorcism," Edward explained.

The priest replied solemnly, "Young man, you must believe in science. Vampires were made up by capitalists to make money."

"Look at him."

Edward pointed at King Shark.

"Oh lord, what an ugly bear."

The priest's failing eyesight couldn't make out the details and assumed he was some poor fool's pet brown bear.

"Cut the nonsense, old man. Bless the water tanks right now, or tomorrow's headlines will be about your naked corpse in a tank," Cobblepot snapped.

Everyone knows vampires fear holy water.

That's why Allen had ordered them to abduct a priest to bless the water tanks installed in the fire suppression system.

Once the Purebloods arrived, they'd use that as a trap to wipe them out en masse.

"I need a crucifix and a Bible."

The old priest agreed without hesitation.

Blessing holy water was a routine task for him.

Besides, these supervillains didn't care about whose orders they were following.

"No problem."

Arthur handed over a crucifix pendant and a Bible—standard items, really. Not having them would've been a rookie mistake.

---

Dong! Dong! Dong!!!

The ancient bell in the hall tolled deeply and solemnly.

Midnight had arrived.

The ritual began.

Dracula stood in the center of the hall, while the rest looked on from around the edges.

Even the League of Assassins' leader, Ra's al Ghul, was intrigued by the Blood God Ritual.

Of course, the League had intel on the vampire clans, though their paths rarely crossed.

If conflict ever did break out, Ra's wouldn't fear them. Their weaknesses—sunlight, silver, holy water—were well-documented.

In truth, the vampires were more powerful overall. Still, he would not be underestimated.

The first step: channeling blood into the ritual grooves.

It took time and required patience until the blood filled every rune.

"Intruders!" a frantic assassin burst in. "Vampires are attacking from all directions!"

Outside, waves of Pureblood nobles were converging on the museum.

Talon warriors and assassins fought fiercely to hold them off.

"Hold them for ten minutes! Once I gain the Blood God's power, I alone will be enough to defeat them all! In return, I'll do three things for you—excluding the retrieval of the Redemption Blade," Dracula vowed.

The Blood God's power was within reach, and he wouldn't let anything ruin this.

After tonight, he'd be the true King of Vampires—and perhaps ruler of the world.

"Deal," Ra's agreed, turning to order his men to fight to the death and block all vampire access to the ritual zone.

If he could reclaim the Redemption Blade, he could revive his fallen assassins.

Thud…

"Who's there?!"

Everyone turned to the upright stone sarcophagus placed nearby.

An ancient artifact of great historical value, still fully intact.

Thud. Thud…

"Come out!"

The Talons and assassins raised their weapons, hearts pounding.

Was this a mummy revival like in Night at the Museum?

Given everything else happening—vampires, rituals—it wasn't hard to imagine.

Creak…

The lid slid aside. A black-gloved hand emerged from the gap.

Hiss!

A real mummy?

Sweat dotted their palms.

The curse of the mummy was a well-known legend. Tomb robbers rarely met good ends.

Then, a black head popped out from the gap.

"Hsss… hsss… must've been the leftover steak I ate cold. Almost gassed myself to death."

Allen climbed out, fully suited in a Batman costume.

The black hand was a glove. The black head—a helmet.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Of course there was no mummy. What were the chances of multiple supernatural events converging?

"Don't mind me, carry on. Keep drinking, keep flirting," Allen said in a creepy tone. "I'll jump in at the perfect moment."

Next thing they knew, Talons and assassins had him surrounded.

"I surrender."

Allen calmly raised his hands, showing no resistance.

Now they were really confused.

Allen was infamous for being a heavy hitter—even capable of soloing Batman. Why would he just surrender?

Something was definitely off.

"Hand over the Redemption Blade, and I won't kill you," Ra's said cautiously.

He couldn't guess what the madman was thinking, and didn't dare approach. Who knew what traps he had laid?

Last night's assassination mission had been a nightmare.

Over a hundred healthy assassins went in—now all were hospitalized.

Even Talia was too busy explaining Damian's parentage to carry out orders.

Allen scoffed, "What do you think I am, stupid? If I give it to you, I'd be dead."

"…"

Ra's was speechless.

True. That hit a little too close to home.

"Hehe, nailed it, didn't I?"

Allen grinned. "You villains love to break promises. I already had King Shark swim off with the blade. Kill me, and you'll never find it."

Ra's frowned. "What will make you hand it over?"

He was crazy—but never stupid.

His stunt at the snow base proved he was a smart lunatic.

"Say I'm handsome, and I'll tell you."

Ra's hesitated, then said, "You're handsome."

"Since you're being so sincere, I'll be generous."

Allen coyly stuck out his butt. "I hid it in my ass crack. Come get it yourself."

"…"

Ra's froze, completely convinced now this was just Allen mocking him.

Who hides a blade there?! What if it stabs you?

Allen shrugged. "I told you the truth and you don't believe me. So hard to deal with."

"I'll make you talk."

Ra's was already picturing multiple torture methods.

"Look! Batman and Superman are kissing!"

Allen pointed in one direction.

Everyone instinctively looked up.

Where?

There's nothing…

By the time they realized it was a trick—Boom!

The lid of the second sarcophagus blasted off, hurtling toward Dracula.

Smash!

Dracula countered with a punch, shattering the lid.

"Attack!"

From the sarcophagus leapt Drake, now fully transformed and powered up by his armor—strong enough to match Dracula in melee.

Unfortunately, Dracula had magic on his side.

Still, the ritual was only halfway through, giving them time to fight.

"You've all walked right into my trap," Allen said smugly. "Not just the Midnight Bruisers—my Comedy Troupe too. Two elite teams. No one's leaving this museum."

…Crazy bastard.

The museum was already surrounded by vampires. Escape was impossible. No need for Allen to "trap" anyone.

Suddenly, the third sarcophagus opened—Midnight Werewolf Russell emerged, fully transformed and emanating killing intent.

Two meters tall and terrifyingly fierce, he made Talons and assassins tremble.

"Go get 'em, Doggy Man!"

Howl!

Russell roared in protest at the nickname, clearly displeased.

Then he vanished into motion.

Allen looked at Ra's al Ghul with meaning. "Fate puts us on opposite sides. Will you submit to destiny's cruelty or defile it by resisting?"

"I want to kill you," Ra's said bluntly.

"Hold that thought."

Allen raised one hand, then reached into his pants with the other and pulled out the Redemption Blade. "See? I was telling the truth earlier. Why didn't you believe me?"

"…"

Ra's felt like a boulder had lodged in his chest.

In just a few minutes, he'd been toyed with three times by a lunatic. He could hardly save face.

Hesitantly, he asked, "So… you're giving it to me?"

You never know what a madman might do on a whim.

Allen grinned, baring his teeth. "Are you stupid? I just wanted to mess with you one more time."