There is no Batman in Gotham City comics.

Chapter 63 Dead Shot

"Whenever a gun barrel sticks out the window, I always remember what Ms. Karina said back in school—'Freud, take that damn eye of yours back out the window. You know, nobody's going to pay for looking out the window in the future!'"

"Now I really want to tell Ms. Karina: Look, I did it! Not only are people willing to pay, but they're paying high prices, a full $100,000 at a time!"

"Although I prefer painting to this job."

"Life is similar to painting. It is not an artwork pieced together by plans and calculations. More often, it is like the yellow leaves piled up in the corner of a park. No one moved them there. It is all a coincidence, plus a gust of wind."

"Please! The wind is really important. The angle, speed, and degree of wind fluctuation all need to be meticulously calculated. Of course, the bullet's descent speed also needs to be calculated; otherwise, how am I supposed to put it into the target's brain from such a distance?"

"The wind is my friend, and just now, my old friend stuck a flyer from the Lower District on my face. You know, the Lower District and Naihe Island are separated by an entire city! What a coincidence."

"Two hundred thousand US dollars plus bonuses, that's enough to entice a mercenary."

"With this money, I can leave Gotham, find a school to study painting. I have a long life ahead of me, and there are endless possibilities."

After disassembling the gun barrel, Floyd stuffed the parts into his canvas weapon bag.

He stood atop the tall building, took off his sunglasses, and shielded himself from the dazzling halo of the sun shining through the clouds.

……

Recruiting is still ongoing. Qin Wei picked and chose from the remaining candidates and finally assembled a simple team.

The team includes a black market boxer, two notorious bank robbers, and a recently retired assassin from Rome. They have the fighting prowess and a demolition expert, but Qin Wei always felt they were missing someone who could oversee the entire operation from above.

Thump~ thump thump!

A knock sounded at the door, and the group looked in the direction of the sound. A young man carrying a canvas bag was peering into the factory with his hand on his brow.

He had neatly styled short flaxen hair, but his U-shaped mustache that stretched all the way to his ears was a mess; he wore a pair of aviator-style sunglasses on his nose. Didn't he know it was a cloudy day?

"Are you hiring here? I came over when I heard the noise. You can afford to pay 200,000 in commissions but can't even afford to turn on the lights? That makes me doubt your financial strength!" the young man complained.

"Why don't you take off your glasses before you speak?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I've gotten used to these sunglasses, they're like a part of me." The man chuckled awkwardly, but made no attempt to take them off.

"I'm a mercenary, it's nice to meet you!" He extended his hand and walked towards Qin Wei.

He's an oddball, but that's good news, since the strength of Gothamites is linked to their eccentricity.

Qin Wei also reached out his hand, and then watched helplessly as the other person passed by him and crashed headfirst into the steel pillar in the corner.

啷！

The echo is clear and long, indicating it is a good head.

Qin Wei rubbed his forehead speechlessly. This kind of neurotic guy is either a formidable character or a complete idiot. Judging from the man's behavior, the result is probably more inclined to be the latter.

"If you can't emit any red laser light from your eyes, then I suggest you take off your glasses."

"That's a good suggestion, but... it's best not to."

While the man rubbed the large, red bump on his forehead, Qin Wei glanced at the man's hand.

The inside of the first joint of the index finger, the web between the thumb and index finger, and the entire palm were covered with a thick layer of yellowish calluses, suggesting that the other person was an experienced gun user.

It's missing a vantage point overlooking the enemy; it would be perfect for a skilled marksman.

"You use a gun, right? Are you good at shooting?" Qin Wei asked.

"Accurate shooting? No, no, no, accuracy can always be improved with practice, but I'm the only one who's both fast and accurate. I guarantee that on Nah Island... no! In all of Gotham, nobody has a better shot than me!"

A gun expert from Gotham? Qin Wei hesitated for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. He thought of someone.

"die……"

The nickname almost slipped out, but thankfully Qin Wei reacted in time. The first time he exposed Catwoman's identity and background, it had attracted a huge wave of hostility and hatred; luckily, he had a gossipy tongue.

But the tongue doesn't always work, so it's best to learn to be more discreet.

But Freud wasn't deaf: "Friend, did you just say something?"

"Really?" Qin Wei put his hands in his pockets and lied without batting an eye.

"No! I definitely heard it, it sounded like D...De...dead!"

Thinking of this, Freud slapped his thigh.

"I've come up with a brilliant new nickname, how about 'Deadshot'? Listen to that! It sounds way better than 'Cowboy Gunman' or 'Shooting Kid'!"

It really was him!

The "Deadshot" of the Suicide Squad, an art student who lost his faith, a freakish genius proficient in all firearms, the most accurate shooter on Earth, a notorious bounty hunter, and AKA Freud, who shared the "Kidney Hitting a Running Lightning Boy at High Speed" award with the Apokolips Gun God!

Qin Wei was so excited that he rubbed his hands together like flies. First Jason, then Floyd, one after another, all the famous figures in the DC universe came to him. It seems that the recruitment flyers did not have any gray hairs.

However, he still had doubts. So far, apart from Dr. Hugo's cyborg, everything in this world seemed abnormally real. Qin Wei suspected that Freud could not replicate the miraculous marksmanship in the comics.

Qin Wei turned his pockets inside out and turned his gaze to Oswald.

"Do you have 10 cents? Can I borrow one?"

"I think I do, it's the change I had when I bought the pizza the day before yesterday, let me look for it..."

Oswald fumbled around for a while before pulling one out of his wallet's inner pocket.

After handing the money to Qin Wei, Oswald couldn't resist making a sarcastic remark: "What do you need this for? There's nowhere here to buy your favorite bear-shaped lollipops."

But Qin Wei's sharp tongue wouldn't let him get his way: "Damn Oswald! See that rocking horse machine by the door? Hurry up and sit on it, and once I put in the coin, you can rock it for ten minutes with a snot running down your face!"

Since the two became acquainted, they would occasionally exchange similar jokes, with wins and losses being roughly equal, but Qin Wei temporarily won this round.

"Do you want someone to give you a definite answer...?"

Freud muttered under his breath, displeased with the two men's abrupt change of topic, but dared not protest loudly for fear of angering his prospective employer and losing his hard-won high-paying job.

"I'm really good, let me shoot a couple of shots, or if that doesn't work, I can even do a backflip."

Floyd's tone was humble. Now that the situation in Gotham is stable, there are quite a few professional hitmen like him who have been out of work for a long time.

"Sorry, sorry, here's the test for you."

The coin peeked through Qin Wei's fingers, then suddenly he flicked his wrist and tossed it high into the air.

"bring it on……"

boom!

boom!

boom!

Before he could finish speaking, Floyd fired three shots in quick succession. The coin was hit by the bullets, and it flew in a bright arc before landing at Royce's feet on the fourth-floor platform.