The door of the restaurant was knocked open, and the wind and rain on the street poured into the shop with a sour smell. But as the door was gently closed, all the noise seemed to be isolated, and the shop returned to silence and darkness.
The new person who came in seemed unfamiliar with this place. You could hear the grinding sound of his lighter's grinding wheel. After a few humid sounds, a large swaying fire illuminated a small area.
Since the lighter was lit, don't waste the fire. The wet figure took out a slightly twisted cigarette from his pocket, straightened it, put it into his mouth, and put the cigarette butt close to the flame.
The firelight illuminated his face. He was still handsome, but his eyes were sunken, his lips were blue, and his messy hair looked like weeds. Except for those eyes that were still somewhat shiny, he looked like a mummy.
.
But he didn't come here to eat, but because he knew that this place had the best wine in the city.
In the logic of an alcoholic, a bottle of sake that costs tens of thousands of dollars is probably not as good as a thirty-dollar brand of strawberry champagne, for no other reason than that the latter has a higher alcohol concentration.
If you ask what kind of drink is strong, mercenaries and agents will say whiskey, Mexicans will say tequila, and sailors will say rum. Each has its own answer.
But if you ask what kind of alcohol is the strongest, the answer is always the same, that is vodka, and the kind produced by big factories and sold in supermarkets is not strong enough. It has to be purified after private crafting. Ordinary people can smell it.
The kind that makes you dizzy.
"Ahem, fu. Haha."
Doomsday Blues exhaled a puff of smoke, made a retching sound, and then spit out some black water-like blood.
He doesn't know how long he can live, but he should still have time to drag all the people on Earth 0 to hell and bury him with him!
My world is destroyed and there is nothing left.
When 'my lord' approached him, he agreed without even thinking.
Of course he knows that coming to Earth 0 is basically a suicide mission, especially coming to Gotham, but how should I put it, what risks should people who are not afraid of death be afraid of?
You won't lose money if you pull one Earth-0 superhero to back you up, and you'll make money if you pull two of them.
Thinking back on his own Zatanna when the earth was annihilated, he shook his head, wiped the rain off his face with his sleeves, jumped up to the bar with a lighter and sat down, turned his body and rolled into the inside of the bar.
Start looking for that legendary moonshine.
The escape journey has come to an end, and I can finally take a break and have a sip of good wine.
What happened to the people of 'My Lord'? He didn't know, but he knew that 'Blank' was mysterious and powerful, so there would be no problem.
Speaking of being mysteriously chased by Red Hood and Harley before, it was nothing. He only needed to release a little magic to get them into trouble without even being able to touch his shadow.
But the strangers they were with were a bit unexpected.
The deformed freak, the masochistic mage covered in needles, the masked man who can't be beaten to death, the woman who can turn into a monster, they're all actually okay.
Mainly the guy who smells all over and is wearing a red and black tights is so disgusting and smelly, even more nauseating than the acid rain in Gotham.
As a result, there is still a vague smell of his in my nostrils, as if that guy is still around me.
But thinking of this, Doomsday Blues shrugged. He felt that Red Hood and the others would not be able to find him, especially now that Batman has been plotted and may have turned into the Laughing Bat.
"Let me see, ah ha! This hidden faucet, right?"
After searching with the flame of a lighter, he saw an inconspicuous faucet behind a baffle under the bar. With the intuition of an alcoholic, he concluded that this was the 'hidden wine list' prepared for regular customers.
He casually took a cup from the sink nearby and impatiently took a cup for himself. He watched the transparent, colorless but pungent-smelling liquid flow over the wall of the cup. The hanging cup made him swallow a big gulp of saliva.
It smells so good that the alcoholic demon in my head is already pole dancing with a steel fork.
He raised his hand and raised his neck, and almost 200 ml of strong liquor was poured down his throat. A blush appeared on his pale face, and his facial features wrinkled as if they were pinched together by external forces.
After about ten seconds, he put down the cup and let out a long gasp.
"Huh~~~~~"
Needless to say, you know how happy he is. It is difficult for non-drinkers to understand the preference of alcoholics for the water of life. It is a feeling that the medicine cures the disease and the body becomes alive again.
Every cell and every nerve is jumping for joy amid paralysis, and the heart is beating to send alcohol to all parts of the human body. However, the human brain mechanism is destined to be unable to fight against chemicals.
But at this moment, he felt someone suddenly appeared behind him, and that person also knew that he had been discovered, so he said directly:
"Haha, do you like your last glass of wine? Constantine from nowhere?"
There is no nonsense in the doomsday blues. He hid his palms in his windbreaker and threw a fireball while turning around. It was the flames from hell and also a dark magical art.
Black worm-like energy rolled inside the fireball. It looked like a living creature, not a piece of magic.
However, the 'spirit' behind the sound was obviously well prepared. He didn't dodge the fireball, but just swiped it from bottom to top with his batarang, splitting the fireball in two like cutting a watermelon.
The two halves of the fireball flew in other directions, causing a fire after the explosion. The wooden furniture in the restaurant was soaked with oil stains, and there were spirits everywhere. These things were good accelerants, and the fire was out of control.
The blazing fire surrounded the two of them, and Doomsday Blues finally saw it clearly, a Batman.
The other party was wearing a purple tights, and the bat logo on the chest was even bigger and more wanton, but the most eye-catching thing was the big smile under the half-masked mask.
"The Laughing Bat?"
The magician was a little nervous. Although he now knew that his birth was more like a joke of the Laughing Bat, he had not even seen this madman with his own eyes.
But Laughter existed, and the terrifying reputation it left behind is enough to make people wary.
"Beep! Wrong answer." Zorn Batman turned the batarang in his hand, making it spin rapidly like a fidget spinner. He shook his head and denied with a smile: "I am Batman, although I am not the same one as before.
, but it’s not laughter, I’m stronger than laughter. By the way, I haven’t thanked you for poisoning Batman so that he could fight against himself and release me.”
"Isn't Fu the Laughing Bat?" Doomsday Blues blew out a smoke ring and squinted his eyes: "If you think you can fight me with the promethium metal dart in your hand, are you overthinking it?"
"Really? Do you really think that as Batman, I would underestimate the combat effectiveness of any Constantine?"
Zorn Batman did not attack, but instead made a please gesture, asking the enemy to try out any tricks they had:
"You still don't understand me well enough, but it doesn't matter. No one in this world understands me. Come on, attack me. Let me explain in advance that the way I inflict fear is different from the previous Batman."