Marvel : Master of Role-Playing

"You..."

Through the gas mask, Gordon stared at the chilling face before him, struggling to say something.

But the earlier beating from the gangsters had already left his body wracked with pain, and now his spirit was nearing its breaking point. Before he could utter a single word, he slipped into unconsciousness.

"Oh dear, passed out already, huh?"

At that moment, Solomon and Killer Croc, also wearing gas masks, approached Reid's side.

"Let's go, gentlemen. Tonight's performance has ended. In the coming days, we have a series of encore acts to deliver."

With his two enforcers in tow, Reid slowly disappeared into the shadows.

…...

Crack!

A bolt of lightning struck, briefly illuminating Gotham's dark night. Moments later, a torrential downpour began, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

The rain washed away the lingering traces of crime from Gotham's streets but simultaneously provided the perfect cover for the city's criminals.

In the alley, the laughing gas gradually dissipated, washed away by the relentless rain. Gotham Police Department officers arrived belatedly, as expected.

When they reached the scene, their faces turned pale in unison.

What greeted them were grotesque corpses in bizarre poses.

The bodies belonged to the Maroni gang thugs, well-documented in Gotham Police Department's records. Each one lay lifeless, their faces frozen in an unnatural blue hue. Even in death, their mouths were twisted into wide, ear to ear grins, a macabre, haunting smile that sent chills down the officers' spines.

Amid the grotesque corpses, the officers discovered a familiar figure—a man who, by all accounts, should have vanished into the shadows of the night. He lay silently among the bodies.

"Captain Gordon!!!"

Among the responding officers were some who had been involved in the Maroni deal—the ones who had knocked Gordon out and handed him over to the thugs. But now, with the thugs all dead and Gordon the sole survivor, they didn't dare lay another finger on him.

Was this the work of the Falcone family? Or perhaps the handiwork of one of Gotham's newly rising lunatics?

Why had Gordon survived?

And more importantly, would they share the same fate as the dead gangsters if they made a move against him?

The officers didn't dare take the risk. They weren't willing to gamble. If keeping Gordon alive meant ensuring their own safety, they were ready to protect this steadfast captain, so out of place in Gotham's tainted streets.

As time passed, Gordon slowly regained consciousness.

An ambulance soon arrived, ready to transport him to Gotham General Hospital for treatment.

At the crime scene, investigators made a peculiar discovery: a playing card tucked inside the mouth of one of the dead thugs.

At Gordon's request, one of his fellow officers retrieved the card and handed it to him.

"A Joker? … The Joker?" Gordon muttered as he stared at the card in his hand.

As he was transported to the hospital, three figures hiding in the shadows watched in silence. Only after the ambulance disappeared into the night did they quietly leave the scene.

…...

Two nights later.

A group of police officers gathered at a bar owned by the Maroni family.

These weren't just any officers—they were the ones involved in Gordon's abduction. It was their coordinated effort that allowed them to knock Gordon out within the police station and "sell" him to Maroni's men.

"You think Gordon's figured out that we're the ones who did it?" one of them asked nervously.

The gruesome murders two nights ago had been eerie and terrifying, but in Gotham, there were always more horrifying events unfolding daily. Two days had passed, and their initial fear of the killer had gradually faded, replaced by a growing resentment toward Gordon, who they feared might be closing in on the truth.

"I say we do it again," one officer proposed. "There are still plenty of people in the Maroni family who hate Gordon's guts. In just two days, he's already raided several bars, and now he's even pissed off the Falcone family. He's got a death wish. This time, we'll make sure he's done for."

"Exactly! If we let him keep this up, Maroni and Falcone will be fine, but we're the ones who'll get fired!"

Gotham Police Department might be powerless to control the city, but it still had the means to police its own ranks. If Gordon's investigation persisted, it was only a matter of time before these officers faced consequences.

If Gordon truly had solid evidence, even though the commissioner of Gotham wasn't exactly a good person, it was entirely possible that he'd throw them under the bus to claim credit for a successful case.

As they fiercely debated whether to cooperate with the Falcone family or the Maroni family, the bar's door slowly creaked open.

Gradually, as everyone turned their gaze toward the massive figure walking step by step toward the bar counter, the entire room fell silent.

It was a towering figure, humanoid in form with four limbs, yet covered entirely in reptilian scales—a humanoid crocodile.

Bang!

Killer Croc dropped heavily onto a barstool at the counter and said to the bartender,

"One bottle of brandy, lots of ice."

He spoke while obediently placing a few crumpled dollar bills on the counter with his massive clawed hand.

"S-Sure... right away..."

Lacking the courage to touch the filthy bills Killer Croc had placed on the counter, the bartender, trembling, grabbed a bottle of brandy, poured it into a glass, added ice, and handed it over.

Killer Croc didn't do anything extra. He simply picked up the glass, opened his massive jaws, and downed the drink in one gulp.

Seeing this, the bartender began to relax slightly. It seemed this monstrous creature was capable of conversation and had indeed only come for a drink.

Thinking along those lines, the bartender, driven by professional instinct, struck up a conversation with Killer Croc.

"Sir, your skin... Is that really something a human could develop? It looks almost like..."

Bang!

Killer Croc slammed the glass down on the counter, then glanced sideways at the bartender, who had been startled by the sudden movement.

"You want to say I don't look human?"

The bartender, shaking with fear, hesitated for a moment before responding, nodding slightly.

"No..."

Smack!

In the next instant, Killer Croc threw a punch, and the bartender's head was crushed like a watermelon, shattered in an instant by the force.

The scene stunned all the customers in the bar, causing the Maroni family thugs to grip their weapons tightly.

"I hate it when people say I'm not human."

He was human. If his DNA were tested, it would prove he was 100% human. It was just that due to a regression phenomenon, his appearance had turned into something monstrous.

Killer Croc then scanned the room, his gaze landing on the Maroni thugs, who had already drawn their weapons and aimed them at him. A cruel smile spread across his face.

"Looks like you think I'm not human too, huh?!"

A massacre began.

Killer Croc exploded into action, using his claws and sharp teeth to tear through the Maroni thugs, ending their lives one after another.

The cramped bar was certainly not ideal for a giant like Killer Croc to fight in, and the bullets fired by the thugs were nearly impossible for him to dodge.

However, the same was true for the Maroni thugs, they had no way to avoid Killer Croc's rampage.

The bullets that struck Killer Croc's body merely got stuck between his scales and muscles, doing little damage.

But Killer Croc's claws and fangs could easily take away the lives of those who crossed his path.

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Hey guys, I've edited the earlier chapters a bit, especially the ones where Alfred converses with others (specifically tony). So, if you want a better reading experience, go check them out. Future conversations will also follow this style. Also, I've changed the quotation marks "" to square brackets [] for when the system speaks.

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Patreon.com/SilverShark769

Every bit of support is greatly appreciated.