DC & Marvel: This Guy Is Crazy

Chapter 158: Allen's Second Masterpiece — The Blood God of the Night

Watching the pureblood nobles swarm into the museum, the hidden Pharaoh Nick finally saw his chance to act.

Each member had a task; his was to seal off every exit from the building.

Beside the museum was a construction site that had only just begun. The piled-up mounds of yellow sand were ideal for his spellcasting material.

Transforming into a mummy, he raised his staff high.

In an instant, a storm of sand swept into the air, surrounding the entire museum.

Every door and window was blocked off with sand.

Inside the museum, Lilith, the progenitor, stepped toward the ritual altar.

A host of pureblood nobles followed to protect her, facing off against Claw Warriors and assassins from the League of Assassins.

Clearly, they had come prepared—silver-plated weapons glinted in their hands.

In no time, the entire Antiquities Museum turned into a bloody battlefield.

…

"Protect me!"

As Ra's al Ghul made his move, Allen shouted and quickly turned to flee.

He ran straight to a pharaoh's sarcophagus and raised a hand to stop Ra's al Ghul. "Boss, I'll give you one more chance—guess if there's an ally of mine inside this coffin. If you're right, the prize is the Redemption Blade."

"You think I'm falling for that crap again?"

Same trick, different day. Ra's al Ghul wasn't playing along this time. Without a word, he swung his sword.

Clang!

A silver trident blocked the sword mid-strike.

Orm's eyes examined Ra's al Ghul with intensity. He could sense the threat this man posed—but only just.

"Who are you?" Ra's al Ghul asked warily.

His sword had struck the trident without budging it a hair—that kind of strength was no joke.

"Former King of Atlantis, current Lord of the Ocean, and part-time Midnight Bruisers superhero."

Allen chimed in with a grin, "Ooh, bet you're sweating now, huh?"

"Never heard of you," Ra's al Ghul replied bluntly.

The League of Assassins had been around for centuries but only dealt with land-based matters. They had no interest in the ocean—especially not some forgotten civilization.

Orm launched his assault, and Ra's al Ghul responded with calm precision.

While there was a clear power gap between them, the ninja master had survived for centuries and mastered countless martial arts—including techniques designed to overcome brute strength with skill.

"Almost time."

Allen glanced at his nonexistent wristwatch and muttered, "Time to wash those filthy hearts clean."

He pulled out a lighter he'd swiped from a relief center earlier and looked up at the ceiling.

"A bit too high."

The sprinkler system was about eight feet off the ground. Allen pursed his lips in frustration.

He walked over to a nearby sarcophagus and kicked it lightly, calling out, "Doctor Night, time to wake up and take a leak."

Lifting the lid, Morbius sat up and asked, "My turn?"

"Big trouble," Allen said, pointing at the sprinkler, then kicking the sarcophagus again. "I'm too short—help me move this over for a boost."

"…"

They'd all hidden in sarcophagi as Allen planned, lying in wait to launch a surprise attack.

Unfortunately, Allen's stomach had betrayed them and given everything away.

Might as well go all in—Morbius no longer needed to stay hidden.

The two of them pushed the sarcophagus beneath the sprinkler.

The rest of the fighters were too busy battling to pay them any mind.

Suddenly, thunder cracked overhead.

Lightning bolts struck the ritual sacrifice.

The Blood God ritual had reached its critical moment.

Drake and Dracula halted their fight at once, urgency flashing in their eyes.

The power of the Blood God—that was what they both craved.

"Terrible timing."

At the main hall's entrance, Lilith arrived with her forces, her eyes locked on the ritual at the center.

She hadn't expected the ritual to be completed before she could stop it.

Still, there was no turning back.

As long as she could kill both Drake and Dracula, the problem would resolve itself.

To wield the Blood God's power, the vessel must meet strict criteria: living by blood, served by blood—otherwise, the power would consume the vessel's own lifeblood.

In Lilith's view, only vampires qualified. Anyone else would die on contact.

The battlefield paused—three clear factions emerged:

The vampires, the Court of Owls, and the Midnight Bruisers.

The Midnight Bruisers, including Allen, had a mere five members—pretty awkward.

Above the ritual altar, several metallic tracks guided the condensing Blood God's essence.

The vampires wanted to destroy it, the Court of Owls wanted to protect it.

As for the Midnight Bruisers, their motives were unclear.

Allen had said he'd help Drake seize the power, but his true intentions were anyone's guess.

"Eyes on me, everyone."

Allen shouted, holding up the lighter toward the sprinkler.

People stared in confusion, unsure of what he was doing.

"Are you the Comedic Bat?" Lilith asked with a wry smile.

"Big-boobed chick, don't get cozy with me. I'm the main character. You wanna be the female lead? No chance—unless you 'audition' privately." Allen sneered.

"…"

Lilith's eye twitched.

The rumors were true—Gotham's so-called guardian was mentally unhinged.

She hadn't believed a lunatic could defend a city. But now? Nothing in this world made sense.

Allen looked toward the Court of Owls judges with mock reproach. "Excuse me, but has your court been embezzling funds? I've been burning this sprinkler head forever and nothing's happening. Don't tell me you haven't been keeping up with safety inspections."

That left them speechless.

What business was it of his if their facilities worked or not?

Pfft...

Suddenly, the sprinkler system burst into action like a showerhead.

Caught off guard, Allen got sprayed right in the face. Hands shielding himself, he yelped playfully, "Ahh, stop! Not in the face! It's too much! I'm soaked—so embarrassed—hehehe…"

Hiss...

Everyone collectively cringed.

This lunatic looked way too happy about getting sprayed.

They wanted to punch him until he cried like a baby.

At that moment, all the museum's sprinklers activated.

No one understood why the fire suppression had been triggered.

"Ah…"

They turned toward the source of the strange sound—Allen stood there, mouth wide open, catching water.

Gulp gulp... pfft!

He gargled, spat the water out, and looked around in shock. "Wait... you guys are fine?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" Lilith frowned.

"Hehe... no reason, no reason. I just think action scenes look cooler in the rain."

Allen clambered off the sarcophagus awkwardly and added, "I'll go check if the crew lunches arrived. Everyone's worked hard—today, three meals each. My treat."

…

On the rooftop—

Cold sweat poured down the old priest's back as the Joker held a gun to his temple, forcing him to stammer through scripture.

After barely finishing the incantation, he kissed the crucifix and tossed the silver pendant into the water tank.

…

"Kill him."

Lilith had had enough. She raised her hand, signaling her forces.

Allen didn't flinch, hands on hips. "Too late—I had someone bless the water. In a sec, it'll all turn to holy water. Good luck surviving."

"Don't listen to the lunatic. Kill him now," Lilith snapped. She couldn't believe a word he said.

Sssss...

Suddenly, smoke rose from Lilith's body—like she'd been splashed with boiling water.

"Ahh! It burns—it's burning me alive!"

"It really is holy water! Take cover!"

"How did it turn into holy water?!"

…

Screams echoed as the purebloods were scorched. Any vampire below Count rank instantly turned to ash.

Higher-ranked nobles lasted a bit longer but immediately scrambled for cover.

"Crap, I'm burning up!"

Drake, though immune to sunlight, wasn't resistant to holy water.

"I'm not immune either!"

At the same time, Midnight Werewolf Russell realized his dark-creature status was catching up with him. Smoke curled off his body too.

The two of them dove into nearby sarcophagi, slamming the lids shut and going silent.

The vampire faction had been dominant—until now. In one move, nine-tenths were wiped out. The rest either transformed and hid in jars or grabbed murals to use as umbrellas—anything to dodge the holy rain.

Lilith popped open a parasol, clinging to a thread of elegance. Her powerful magic barely kept the holy water at bay.

The sensation? Like standing next to molten lava—face and clothes sizzling from the heat.

No one was more furious than Dracula.

The ritual was seconds from completion. The Blood God's power was right there—but with his hands on a coffin lid, he couldn't reach it.

And then—

The final drop of Blood God essence condensed and began to fall.

Everyone held their breath.

This is it!

Dracula gritted his teeth. He was ready to endure the holy water to complete the ritual. With his undead trait, death wasn't a concern.

He darted forward like a blur—

But a figure intercepted him, even faster.

A trident lunged toward his chest.

It was none other than Ocean Master Orm.

With water everywhere, he was in his element. His Atlantean bloodline surged, boosting all his abilities.

"No—!"

Dracula dodged, helplessly watching the Blood God's essence land squarely on Morbius' forehead.

Allen howled from the sidelines.

Why was he yelling?

No one could figure him out.

Allen even mimed the pitch of the scream, clenching a fist and exhaling sharply. "Oops, sorry. Got carried away—stole your line."

He left Dracula completely dumbfounded.

The ritual reached its final stage.

Skeletal spirits burst from pureblood Dukes and pierced through Morbius.

Everyone realized the truth.

Allen had always intended for Morbius to inherit the Blood God's power.

Somehow, they'd all overlooked the obvious—Morbius, though vampiric, had never drunk blood while part of the Midnight Bruisers.

Drake, gripping the coffin lid, roared in fury. "Allen! You promised me! What the hell is this?!"

"You believed a lunatic? Idiot."

Allen grinned, no longer hiding the betrayal.

He'd been studying Drake from the start, and what he saw sealed his decision.

Drake had roamed Gotham like a starving ghoul—seeking not justice, but criminals to feed on.

He only wanted to use the team to seize the Blood God's power. Allen would never let that happen.

When he'd recruited Morbius, he had already planned for him to be the backup.

Lightning flashed. Rain poured.

Morbius threw back his head and howled, crimson eyes glowing with a chilling light. A terrifying aura burst forth.

Even Lilith's pupils contracted—her face turning grim.

Morbius' vampiric powers were already on par with a pureblood prince. With the Blood God's power now in his veins, he was a force to be reckoned with.

The ritual was complete.

A new king had risen.

"Damn… I've created another flawless masterpiece."

Allen strode proudly to Morbius' side and declared, "Mo, from now on—anyone who hits me, you hit back. Anyone I hit, you hit too. Anyone you want to hit, just hit."

"What if I wanna hit you?" Morbius asked…

Allen joked without a care, "Hey, no hitting the face—it's my meal ticket, you know."

The splashing water came to a halt.

The farce came to an end.

Gotham was about to return to how it should be.

This matter was more than enough for Doctor Night and the Ocean Master to handle.

The holy water flooding the museum, under Orm's water-element magic, was practically blessed by divine light magic.

"I suggest we cooperate—take them out first."

"No problem."

The tide turned. Lilith was forced to compromise, and the Court of Owls gladly agreed to the proposal.

The surviving purebloods transformed into bats, tightly surrounding the ritual altar.

"Why do you insist on forcing my hand?"

Allen said helplessly, "Do you people really think I'm weak or something?"

As he spoke, he patted Orm on the shoulder, activating his Holy Flame Power skill.

This ability was nearly useless against ordinary beings, but against dark creatures, it dealt true, undeniable damage.

And vampires were dark creatures—they were basically asking for it.

The trident, gleaming with pure white radiance, casually swept out, and bats were obliterated in swaths.

With every strike, Orm slaughtered a number of pureblood nobles, as if he were the nemesis of vampires.

Lilith glanced at her supposed allies, only to find them completely indifferent—clearly hoping to use the blood clan to exhaust their enemies.

"Retreat!"

She gave the order without hesitation.

She couldn't let the blood clan be annihilated, especially the thirteen pureblood princes—they were simply too valuable to sacrifice.

The bat swarm surged toward the ceiling like mad, shattering the glass and fleeing into the night sky.

"This isn't over. I'll make you witness the true heritage the blood clan has accumulated over thousands of years."

With that harsh warning, Lilith transformed into a swarm of crimson bats, ready to escape.

"You're not getting away, witch!"

Allen, swift as lightning, leapt high into the air, his hands shooting out like twin Flood Dragons, grabbing toward the swarm.

"Ah—!"

A startled, panicked shriek rang out as the swarm sped up even more.

Allen landed smoothly, blinking as he looked down at the pair of plump, red bats in his hands, beaming. "Who would've thought bats could be this cute? I'm totally keeping them as pets. They're so soft and springy."

The two red bats squeaked furiously, struggling with all their might, but couldn't break free.

It had been mentioned before—there was a flaw in this bat-swarm transformation. Each bat was a part of the user's physical body. If even one bat failed to return, a piece of the original body would be missing. And it wouldn't regenerate until that bat died and the missing part could regrow.

So, what part Lilith might now be missing was anyone's guess.