Marvel’s Shadowed Knight

Bruce didn't hear what Stark had said.

He just kept heading west at full speed.

He needed to reach the Blue Nation as quickly as possible. No one could be sure whether the man who had been scheming behind the scenes would act sooner than expected.

It was all very uncertain.

As Bruce passed over the only bridge crossing the watershed, the once-bustling bridge-town was now deserted, its buildings empty and void of life.

Some people, upon seeing Bruce arrive from the Iron Nation, simply shook their heads. Perhaps, in their hearts, they believed that Ms. Sharp's death was due to Tony Stark.

They weren't particularly surprised that someone would leave the Iron Nation—this seemed only natural to them.

Who would feel any affection for a country led by the man who killed a woman devoted to preserving peace?

And this wasn't the first time the townsfolk had seen such a scene.

Even before that incident, there had been people leaving the Iron Nation and heading toward the Blue Nation.

Likewise, there had also been people traveling from the Blue Nation to the Iron Nation.

One could say there was once regular exchange between the two sides. But after Ms. Sharp's death, everything changed.

A large number of people began moving to the Blue Nation, and no one traveled from there to the Iron Nation anymore.

It was as if, in an instant, the Iron Nation had become a place everyone despised.

Because everyone knew that the only one capable of carrying out a long-distance assassination was Bullseye—the one who had always been close to Stark.

There was hardly any need for investigation—this alone was enough to convince people that Stark had no intention of pursuing peace.

Bruce simply observed all of this, with no intention of stopping. He twisted the throttle and sped ahead.

Until he came to a halt at the border checkpoint of the Blue Nation.

Although the Blue Nation and Iron Nation were said to be divided by the watershed, by the time Bruce reached the border town of Steelridge, it was already dark.

And this was the exact location—Steelridge—that Stark had initially detected as Bullseye's destination.

"Steelridge is under curfew until sunrise, sir, unless you've been invited. Can you remove your helmet? We need to inspect you," said a Blue Nation guard. To their credit, even without strict legal codes, these guards still maintained a courteous demeanor.

Bruce took off his mask and pulled out the forged identification that Stark had given him in advance—something Stark had someone make.

"Bruce Wayne. I'm a doctor. A patient of mine asked me to come check on his condition—it's urgent. Sorry to trouble you," Bruce said with a polite smile, handing over the fake ID.

"Alright, all clear. Who's doing the secondary inspection tonight?" one of the guards asked after examining the ID, apparently seeing nothing suspicious.

It had to be said—Stark's forger was among the best. Even the most trained eyes wouldn't notice anything wrong.

It just happened that someone else would be doing a second check tonight to verify identities.

Another guard said casually, "That big shot. I'm still surprised he takes the time for this, but I guess we all have our roles. He should be arriving shortly."

"My patient's case is very urgent. When exactly will this second check happen?" Bruce asked, as Stark hadn't mentioned anything about this beforehand.

"It's regulation. Everyone must undergo additional verification. As for the time, that person should be here soon," the guard replied.

"Sorry to interrupt. May I assist in any way?" A bald elderly man in a wheelchair slowly emerged into the light. He lowered his head to observe Bruce carefully.

From his face alone, it was clear this old man had been through a great deal.

His expression was lined with weariness and the marks of time.

The fully armed guard beside the old man spoke up, "Just an identity check, Professor X. We're verifying that this gentleman's story matches who he claims to be. It won't take long."

"We need to question him. This gentleman says he's a doctor who needs to enter during curfew to treat his patient," one of the border guards shouted to the old man above.

Bruce simply looked up at the man, already guessing how the old professor might verify his identity.

There was no physical contact and too much distance. The methods available could only be telepathy—or magic.

"Of course. I'm happy to help," the elderly man said with a kind smile, nodding to the guard and then to Bruce before reaching out his hand.

"This will only take a moment."

He placed his hand on his temple and focused on Bruce. What exactly he saw was unclear.

After a moment of silence, the old man looked at Bruce, lowered his hand, and said to the guards:

"Yes, this gentleman's identity is consistent with his statement."

"Sir, you're clear to pass," the guard said to Bruce, then signaled the gate to open. Bruce nodded and rode his motorcycle into the city.

Once inside, the scene was completely different from the Iron Nation. If the Iron Nation under Stark's rule represented a typical futuristic society, then the Blue Nation under Captain America's leadership felt more like a cyberpunk world.

Of course, there were only two ironclad laws here:

Do not harm others. Help others as much as possible.

But everyone knew—if you defied Steve Rogers' laws, the Avengers under his command would come for you. And if what you did was serious enough, the Punisher would be the one to show up.

Bruce had no intention of commenting on these laws.

He had seen too many such idealistic codes—and had carried out plenty of his own idealistic actions.

Under these two laws established by Captain America, Bruce was certain that if someone like the former Lex Luthor or the Penguin were thrown into this place, they would absolutely thrive—unless Captain America himself decided to break his own ironclad rules. After all, those people knew how to climb to the top without hurting others.

This was also one of the reasons why the Winter Soldier chose to side with Stark instead of staying with his close friend, Steve Rogers.

Stark's governance philosophy was clearly superior to that of Steve Rogers.

But such rational judgment was far from enough. Whether it was heroes or the general public, most people simply followed their hearts. They would naturally gravitate toward whichever nation they felt suited them best—nothing more, nothing less.

At that moment, Bruce asked the other "bats" in his mental prison whether they had sensed or seen anything unusual just now—perhaps an energy intrusion of some kind.

Telepathy was just too overpowered—it often worked without the target even knowing, and there was no way to defend against it.

The bats in Bruce's mind hadn't seen anyone enter, but they had faintly felt a wave of energy sweep through. Then it vanished without a trace.

Maybe it was because that old man had grown too old, and his abilities had declined. Otherwise, the sensation wouldn't have been so weak.

After getting a response from the bats, Bruce finally took out the communicator that connected him to Stark.

"I thought you would've been stopped at the checkpoint," Stark said the moment Bruce came online.

"You're right, I almost was," Bruce replied. "An elderly man who apparently had telepathic powers failed to detect my presence."

That comment immediately raised Stark's alarm, as their intelligence reports had contained no such information.

"Wait, are you saying this old man—is he bald and sitting in a wheelchair?" Stark quickly asked.

"Yes," Bruce confirmed.

Hearing this, Stark sighed with some emotion. "Time… He's gotten too old. He's nowhere near the level he used to be."

"Getting sentimental isn't going to help us," Bruce interrupted coldly. "I'm about to begin. Please sync your intel to my device."

Stark was a bit helpless in the face of Bruce's bluntness. Who would've thought such a guy could be this cold? He had no choice but to comply.

"Already done."

"Good. I see it," Bruce said, nodding at the red dot that appeared on his device. Then he immediately ended the call.

Watching Bruce vanish from the comm channel, Stark felt a little exasperated.

That guy really was difficult to deal with.

"He's a tough one, isn't he?" Stark turned to Jennifer beside him with a smile.

"Can we really trust him?" Jennifer asked cautiously. She didn't believe someone so silent and aloof could be a reliable partner.

"Jennifer, you have to understand," Stark said seriously. "In this world, there are no eternal friends or eternal enemies—only eternal interests. And right now, we happen to have what he wants."

Stark never believed that he and this mysterious visitor would become friends or anything of the sort. They were simply cooperating for mutual benefit.

And clearly, Bruce understood that better than anyone—otherwise, he wouldn't have cut off Stark's sentimental reminiscing so directly.

Bruce didn't want any emotional entanglements with them—he didn't want any connection at all.

By now, Bruce had already located Bullseye's position.

It had to be said, the man's hiding spot was extremely well concealed. If no one were watching this place specifically, no one would've known that the infamous Bullseye was hiding here.

As Bruce observed Bullseye, he could faintly hear a voice coming from the desk in front of him.

"You need to be careful. Someone who previously entered the Iron Nation may have struck a deal with Stark and infiltrated the Blue Nation."

"I don't know what his mission is, but considering Sharp's death—maybe he's coming for you."

"Noted. If someone swears vengeance against old Bullseye, then today must be Thursday. Let him come."

Just as Bullseye finished that sentence, Bruce silently entered his room.

Not a sound was made.

At that moment, Bullseye suddenly spun around and threw the first object he could find at Bruce.

As a top-tier assassin, even a thumbtack could become a lethal weapon in his hands—even playing cards.

Two pieces of copper wire instantly shot toward Bruce.

As someone who never missed a shot, Bullseye was confident that no one could dodge his attack at such close range.

Not even Daredevil could.

But what shocked him was that Bruce effortlessly dodged the attack—and even threw a bat-shaped batarang at him in return.

"You think you can play that game with me, Bullseye? You're not ready!" Bullseye shouted as he grabbed a nail from nearby and flung it, breaking Bruce's batarang in mid-air. Then, he hurled a stream of steel nails at Bruce.

But not a single one landed.

Bruce gave him no chance to hit his target. In fact, he kept closing the distance between them, as if ready to strike any second.

"What the hell are you?" Bullseye muttered.

Bruce's movements had completely upended everything Bullseye knew about superhumans.

Some used brute force, some used powers to deflect his attacks, and some could even predict his moves.

But no one had ever evaded his attacks so continuously like Bruce did.

And now Bruce was right in front of him.

Still, Bullseye wasn't panicking. He had already reached his fallback point. With a swift motion, he grabbed a handgun beside him—but before he could pull the trigger, Bruce was on him.

Bruce raised Bullseye's gun-wielding arm high, and then slammed a heavy punch right into Bullseye's eye socket.

Bullseye still managed to fire a shot.

BANG!

At the very least, the noise would alert the ever-present Punishers outside!

But the next second, Bruce's punch knocked him out cold.

(End of Chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09